#this one is pretty fun though just colored dots floating around

[boneless-mika]

Another fucking aura?? Already?? Motherfucker

[elmundodeflor]

The Tale Of The Butterflies - Now Out on AO3

CLICK HERE TO READ THE FULL FIC

"This goes out to my grandma

Who fell with the April breeze

And just like the autumn leaves

I hope she grows back to me

When butterflies migrate on to spring."

Grass creaks under their boots as they walk. It’s their one day-off, and Hanji had insisted on them going out the walls to explore.

“C´mon! It’ll be fun!”, they’d said. And Levi, though reluctant, had accepted in the end. He had thought about using the spare time to clean around headquarters. But the weather was too nice to waste. Besides, they had already fixed a cleaning-day a few weeks prior. A little sun wouldn’t hurt him much.

He sighs, stares at the clearing before him. It’s early spring, and the first-born sprouts begin to poke from the trees; branches dotted by shy specs of green. It’s a wonderful sight, he has to admit. Light seeps through the leaves, paints the fields of cellophane gold. And he thinks, he’s quite glad Hanji had dragged him out for a walk, after all. Even when, by walk, he means listening to their rambles or getting his clothes dirty.

“Look!”, he hears them call. They are pointing at a rare flower, lost somewhere in a midst of wood and brown. A butterfly floats around its petals; its wings fragile, fluttering in see-through yellow. “Isn’t this beautiful?”

Levi hums. Hanji had taken him discover the pretty to the world. The sparkle that laid in common-detail, so often invisible to the eye. He had a much more different stance at life before he met them, he tells himself. The Underground was harsh, and cold, and ruthless. And so, he thought he could only seek survival, then.

“It’s still a bug.”, he huffs. His voice is rather soft, despite the rough tone.

Hanji laughs at him, as if their fingers had caught the sweet within his words.

“I've never told you about butterflies, haven’t I?”, they ask; arms crossed over their chest. The afternoon light splatters over brown hair. Has turned their glasses into a stained kaleidoscope. “Come, quick! Get over here!”

Levi shakes his head, but does so, anyways. Truth is, they had shown him the colors of the wild, helped him understand rain and stars. It made him feel like he belonged, somehow. Like he could always find rainbows hidden in a universe that had unraveled to black and white.

"What is it?"

Hanji extends a finger. The butterfly has perched upon it, foolishly mistaken it for a flower petal. It makes them giggle; how its tiny legs trickle their skin. How Levi gives them a knowing stare, wide-eyed and curious.

“These babies”, they tell him, as they lift their hand up. “Only live for a single day.”

Levi frowns. His mouth parts open: an expression of sheer innocence. It’s almost as if he’s just starting to grow, like leaves that crawl from the mud. He doesn’t quite understand, yet, the way some things work. And he takes a guess, even if just to entertain the idea, that it’s nice to be a little bit naive, still.

“I call bullshit.”, he grunts. The butterfly sits in quiet; its wings shimmering under the timid rays of dusk. How could something so complex fade away so quickly?

Hanji laughs, louder this time.

“It’s true!”, they try to defend themselves. Their smile is warm and kind, wider than the open fields. “They start as caterpillars, first.”, they explain, though rather careful. “Then, they go through a transition process known as metamorphosis.”

Levi says nothing for a while, drinks in every trace of sunlight. He can’t help but think that they sound like an expert, indeed. That it’s just like they’ve spent their whole lives searching for answers to the mysteries of nature.

He looks at the butterfly first, and at Hanji, after. They’re holding their finger up to their nose, so near they’ve turned crossed-eyed and dizzy. He figures, probably, there’s tenderness about the ways they have for exploring. That his soul is left exposed at the sight of them: skewed glasses, clothes speckled.

“Ah, well…!”, he hears them speak again. “I just find it so incredible! A few months in and ta-da! They completely change forms.”

He scoffs. It seemed gross, in all honesty. But that, he wouldn't say. Hanji most likely knew already, anyways.

“All that and just to die within a day, huh...?”, he sighs, disappointed.

Hanji nods, and takes his hand into theirs for a moment. There’s a thin layer of dust that’s collected underneath their nails. A warm splotch of sweat that peppers over their palms, too.

Still, Levi doesn’t care.

"Super unfair, if you ask me.", he watches them shrug, ever so carefree. The butterfly's fumbled from their finger onto his, made a home out of his embrace. And he feels as though time has stopped, right there and then. Like he's cradling a daydream too good to be true. "So, pay attention, alright? We're probably never gonna see this again!"

He catches his breath. The butterfly spreads its wings, shows them every hue of golden and yellow. It's fascinating, he thinks, as he brings it up close to his face. He'd been told, the world was supposed to be one filled with despair. An irregular battlefield, where love could only come at the cost of loss.

Yet, he notices, there's a beauty that remains precious, even in the simple. Some kind of wonder that stays in moments of quiet: the fading sunsets, the blink of an eye. Hanji goes on adventures, smiles with their heart light. And he finds that it's contagious, really. That passion of theirs. That they can let joy bloom in places others had planted with sorrow.

How do they do it?

“I don’t get it.”, he complains. And they let out a giggle: a sound that drifts away with the breeze.

“You don’t have to, Levi.”, they tell him. The traces of their voice hang loose around the edges; his name a soft whisper on their lips. “To be frank, I don’t quite get it myself, either…”

He remains quiet for a minute, takes in the perfume that lingers in the air. A smile of his own has blossomed on his mouth, shy as wildflowers that push above-ground. He's aware of how stubborn he can be. How he can seem cool and unfazed, at times. Still, he decides that, maybe, Hanji can be right, if only just for now. That there’s some kind of comfort in sharing himself with someone who simply understands.

He exhales, and looks up at the butterfly: the way it floats off to the afternoon. It appears to him, somehow, the meadows feel emptier now that it’s gone. Yet, he’s certain, there’s not much he can do about what’s finite, after all.

Some things are meant to slip beyond one’s line of comprehension, anyways.

"I think we should start heading back.", he offers, as he gets up to sweep the mud that’s on his pants. The sun’s about to set, and all he really wishes for is a long, hot shower before dinner.

Hanji grazes him another smile, and helps themselves off the floor, as well.

“Then admit that you had fun, at least!”, they tease. And Levi figures, perhaps, to them happiness can be only but a butterfly, in the end. The brittle that's in beauty. The fleeting one yearns to keep from the sweet betrayals of time.

He huffs and turns around to stare at them, still walking a few steps behind. He did have a wonderful day, indeed. But that, he wouldn't say. Hanji most likely knew already, anyways.

"Don’t be stupid.", he goes, instead. And they laugh in response, loud, and wild, and clear. “We’re gonna be late for tea.”

[3-frogs-in-a-trench-coat]

Selfshiptober Day 14: date / vampire

Divider by @anitalenia

Tonight was a different kind of night. Aza was invited to a party by someone he met at work a few days ago.

Not much was mentioned other than the location, and that it was "Vampire themed."

Seeing how Phoenix seemed to enjoy their last Halloween themed date, he thought that it might be a good idea to come to the party as a throuple, making this a surprise date for both partners.

And here they were now, outside of the building at the location previously given to him.

Aza stood in between of their partners. Dressed in a black long sleeved blouse, red vest and black lacey jabot.

(Outfit can be found here: https://pin.it/3RWwkuUMt)

Phoenix, standing to their left, was in a recently bought outfit just for this occasion.

A black dress shirt with sleeves that puffed out near the wrists, high waisted black slacks, a waist corset, and some silver jewelry hanging loosely around their neck.

(Outfit can be found here: https://pin.it/4YKXfS4ny)

Thimble, standing to Aza's right, was wearing a black outfit that verged to a more punk-like style. The tips of a pair of faux vampire fangs could be shown sticking out over their bottom lip.

(Outfit can be seen here: https://pin.it/2QJLcio4i)

Holding each of his partners' hands, Aza led the 2 of them through the door, after double checking the address displayed on his phone.

It seemed like a pretty basic home. Nothing out of the ordinary. But once they were inside.....

Immediately the soft sounds of music could be heard from a separate room nearby. Dim ambient lighting shone throughout the interior of the house. Decor that had a mix of a Victorian goth and generic vampire vibe was displayed through the home.

A few people could be seen walking in between the rooms. Some in elaborate goth-like dresses, some wearing outfits with fake blood dotting their shirts.

The throuple managed to find their way to a living room, seemingly having had furniture moved around just for the event. A big table sat in the middle of the room with food and drinks.

Cups of red punch with fake (gummy?) fangs floating on top. Dark red rose shaped frosted cupcakes, filled with jam. Red velvet cheesecake. Even what looked to be a black colored fudge in a pan.

Basically anything that could be black and/or red, was there. It seemed to be the host's attempt to match the house's dark decor.

The throuple spent the next few minutes trying food and drinks, making small talk with other party goers, and walking around the house.

In one room, there were some games. Much of them seeming to have been bought for cheap, judging by the quality, but in a nostalgic kind of way. For example, Phoenix would later mention how it made them remember of some of the party games they played with some of their friends from their childhood.

The throuple would end up playing a few of these games. Taking pleasure in the small vampire themed prizes.

Random pins that had sayings or jokes related to vampires on them, fake vampire fangs, and more. All displayed in small coffin shaped boxes.

The little details delighted Phoenix in a way. They ended up making it a personal game, to see what kind of little vampire inspired details they could find throughout the rest of the night.

Making their way back to the living room, seemingly being the place where the music was coming from, and danced. A bit awkward to be honest, as there wasn't much room to properly dance. It did make the throuple chuckle a bit though.

It was a bit awkward, but fun nonetheless.

At some point during the night, Phoenix would pull Aza aside. Kissing them before thanking them for the fun night.

It seemed to relax Aza a bit. He originally wasn't sure how his partners felt about tonight. But seeing Phoenix's reaction in that moment? It seemed to melt away any worry he may have once had.

The throuple would spend the remainder of the night indulging themselves in more food and drinks, trying to win each other prizes from some of the games, and watching other party goers, pointing out to each other what piece of people's outfits they liked the most.

It seemed to be..... Maybe a bit more low-key or a bit more casual than some other dates or parties they went to together. But the throuple had fun nonetheless.

It was a nice change of pace from their otherwise busy days. Why would they ask for anything different?

They were also all together. And that's all that ever mattered.

Taglist:

@faerie-circle-ships

@sennamybeloved

[theonethatyaks93]

Animaniacs Super 7 Figures!

Hi everyone! I know in my last post, I said that my next post was going to be my biggest one yet (my ranking of every single Pinky and The Brain segment from the reboot) but something arrived before I could start that!

My Super 7 Animaniacs Ultimates figures arrived! Yakko, Wakko, Dot, and Brain arrived last Wednesday while Pinky came last Thursday. I’ve been waiting for these for over 1 year and two months and I’m so excited they are now in my collection! Here is my official review of these amazing figures (and all the trouble I went through to get them out of the box).

Here they all are in their boxes. First things first, I love the way they designed these boxes. They’re colorful and each one is different. I plan on keeping them for storage. Brain’s box is absolutely gigantic and sticks out compared to the others. I don’t have photos of the backs but it’s only a picture of each character and a little background. Now, onto each figure.

Here’s Yakko! I love how tall he is when compared to his siblings. He also has some good weight to him. The figure is a tad bit hard to move, but that’s a given since he’s new. Moving around the joints will loosen them up a little. The ears also move, which is a surprise! Unfortunately, I found it very difficult to put on his alternate head, to the point where I couldn’t actually get it on. I’ll figure it out and even if I don’t, I’m not really going to use that head anyways. Yakko’ s tail was also hard to change. The hands are cute, though I haven’t tried changing them. I really like the way Yakko looks even if there are a few paint smudges (but that’s always going to happen). The board with the countries of the world is very detailed and contains every single country mentioned in the song. The bag of fun is nice and weighted and I think the little pointer is a nice touch. This took me about 20 minutes to get out of the packaging because it was so secure! My fingers were sweaty and my thumbs hurt. I did manage after a while. While it was hard, I’m not going to let that detract from my opinion! Overall, a great figure.

Next up is Wakko! He was very easy to take out of the plastic thankfully. I think he looks really cute and I love his sweater! It does make it kind of hard to articulate his arms, but I’ll work on that. I didn’t even try to put on his alternate head since I didn’t want to have another Yakko situation. His tail was mercifully easier to change than Yakko’s. I love all the little hands and how they can actually hold the accessories. Speaking of which, these are the best accessories from the three Warners. The mallet was heavy and a good size, I love the USA on the board, the fiddle was a little big but it still worked, and the dynamite stick (which comes with all three Warner siblings) is very colorful. I love Wakko’s alternate head; I just think it looks neat. The paint job was good also. Another win here.

She’s cute, she’s feisty, she’s witty: it’s Dot! She was also really hard to get out of the box, though not as hard as Yakko. She is so tiny; she’s actually smaller than Brain! I love her heads, particularly her heart eyes head. Dot’s tail was hard to swap out since her skirt got in the way, but I figured it out after messing with it for a minute. Her hands are so cute! I love the rose and the butterfly. She also has fists! Sadly, she comes with the least amount of accessories only having a stick of dynamite and a little duck float (which has a softer plastic rubbery texture!). Dot’s paint was pretty good with barely any smudges. I can’t wait to find a little stool and do some Dot’s Poetry Corner things. I hope I can get her to sit down! She was very adorable and fun!

Pinky’s turn! Narf! This was hands-down my favorite of the 5 figures (and not just because Pinky is my favorite character). He feels the most accurate and was the easiest to pose and articulate. Removing him from the box was also easy. His tail will become a little loose though when moved around a lot. It does stay in place when positioned. Changing Pinky’s heads was easy and didn’t take too much time. His alternate heads were my favorite! I love the “bopped on the head look” and Pinky’s happy face was really cute. He also has the most hands. I also love it how they made Pinky left handed and gave him some hands that not only hold the accessories, but look like he’s giving a thumbs up. The accessories are cute too. I love the grappling hook, notepad, and the science equipment that make me wish we got a cage play set. And though I don’t personally ship Pinky and Phar Fignewton, the little picture was a nice touch. This was just an amazing figure and I can ignore the paint defects since he’s fantastic looking. I will be taking a lot of pictures of this mouse; he’s so photogenic!

Lastly, we have The Brain! The heaviest figure, (and shockingly, the easiest one to remove from the packaging) Brain is a tad bit top-heavy and is difficult to stand, though you can get him to stay upright. Brain’s head is huge, about as big as the palm of my hand. His tail can be popped out with ease, which can be frustrating, though it’s quick to put back in. He is easy to pose and his hands are so freaking tiny! I love his alternate head; it’s so expressive. I wish he had another head to get more expressions from him. His accessories are incredible! I love the giant magnet and the blueprint was made of cardboard to my surprise. The paper clip and pointer are also fun. My favorite accessory, perhaps maybe of the entire line, is the globe keychain. It’s a real keychain that can be put on things like backpacks and it comes from my favorite episode! I was so happy when I found out that this was going to be an accessory in this set. He was fun to pose and was size-accurate when compared to Pinky. I think he looks very close to the show and I can’t wait to put him in some situations with Pinky. Brain was amazing overall and I’m excited for some more pictures.

Overall, I loved these a lot. There were a few paint issues and the posing and swapping of heads and hands could be difficult, but I still adore them, especially Pinky and Brain. I am loving all the accessories and all the possibilities for articulation. These are honestly a must-have for people who love the show. They’re not perfect by any means, but I still find them really cool. Overall 8.5/10 for the entire lot. I hope you enjoyed my review! Here are a few pictures I took of Pinky and Brain below:

The mice (attempting) to hold hands. The posing for this took a while and the balance was hard. I’ll work on it later so I can get better shots. There will be a lot more Brinky photos in the future!

Here’s Pinky in his first dress! This was on a random fairy doll I had and I thought it would look perfect on him. Luckily, it did! Now, I can use this dress as a size comparison when I want to find more outfits. I think he looks beautiful, though I wish I had a blonde wig he could wear. Image what Brain would think! I’m looking forward to putting Pinky in more fun clothes and expanding his wardrobe!

[likeastarstar]

Boredom, Disinterest, & Intimidation.

Summary: Jungkook's in that suit and he's bored and you're not impressed by much...except for him. and then you fuck him in a public restroom.

(A/N: WARNING! SMUT AHEAD! for the anon requesting striped suit jk...I got severely carried away this is so much longer than I intended...feedback is appreciated.)

masterlist.

You weren't impressed by much.

Men were too boring to be impressive most of the time. They watered their personalities down, made themselves too accessible to be deemed worth it for your effort. Basically, you thought you were better than most of them. Your friends said you should lower your standards or risk being forever alone, but you didn't really understand why that was such a bad thing. At least you liked your own company, preferring to fly solo most of the time.

That's what you were doing at the event you were at, a networking thing that your company sent you to in order to make connections in different industries your CEO was interested in. You were the go-to for this sort of thing, where you had to be coy and work a room with no commitment.

You stared at the glass in your hand, wondering how many flutes of champagne the woman standing next you had consumed. She swayed off beat to the instrumental music playing and you couldn't help but guess that it wasn't a lack of rhythm that was causing it. Someone called your name and you lifted your gaze, falling on a bulky looking man with a kind smile. You recognized him as the PR connection your company had, one who was in charge of not only your own company but several larger clients in the entertainment industry. You smiled at him easily, floating over to where he was.

"Let me introduce you to my friends, they're in the music industry." He said pleasantly, gesturing to the group of men standing beside him.

You scanned the group neutrally, recognizing them instantly. Of course you knew who they were. You wondered why you were being introduced to them but soon connected the dots when you heard they were looking to explore the possibility of expanding their tour set-ups, primarily in the technology area, an aspect your company could help with. The tallest man did most of the speaking, his warm smile and easy going humor making it easy to see why countless people were in love with him. Your eyes stuck on another member of the group however, one standing towards the back with an uninterested look on his face.

While the rest of the men looked towards you eagerly when you spoke about previous experiences with audio and performance oriented tech expansions, he stared off to the side with his hands in his pockets. You studied his figure- black and grey striped suit tailored to a tee, skimming the length of his lean body. Straight shoulders, thin waist, legs for days- his proportions were scientifically perfect. His hair was gelled and neatly parted, jet black matching the inky color of his eyes. Everything about him was unapproachable, from the bored purse of his lips to the eyebrow piercing that reflected the light in a sort of warning. Another one of the group began saying something, sparking his attention.

His eyes flickered to you, flying over you at first and then doubling back to study you more closely. He frowned slightly, blinking a couple times before realizing you were staring back at him, refusing to look away.

"Seems like they're about to start the dinner, where are you seated?" Someone asked you, causing you to tear your eyes from his.

You just happened to be seated across from the man in the striped suit, who's name you had heard a couple times but had forgotten since you didn't personally pay attention to things like that. You ignored him and the way he slouched over in his chair, pushing his hips forwards with his neck stretched to the side so his head could rest back on the chair, watching the rest of the room out of the corner of his eye as if he couldn't be bothered to interact with it himself. He was distractingly handsome, chiseled jaw cutting a sharp line through space.

You started a conversation with a woman to your left who ran a charity organization or something, the details weren't really sticking in your mind since a certain someone had decided instead of zoning out, he'd zero in on you with total focus. You turned your head slowly towards him when you couldn't take the tension you felt from seeing his gaze locked on you out of the corner of your eye anymore, the knot of anticipation only tightening when you noted his smirk.

"Do you normally stare at people?" You asked in a flat tone.

"No," He said simply. "I actually make it a point not to make eye contact with people at these sorts of things. I'm making an exception."

He leaned forward in his chair, face tilted slightly so he was looking up at you through his eyelashes. You resisted the urge to squirm in your chair- this wasn't you. You didn't get intimidated easily, you were the one doing the intimidation usually. He rolled his broad shoulders back, sitting up straight as if to let you get a better look at him.

"Don't bother," You quipped.

"Aren't you bored?" He asked, a slightly surprised expression breaking the air of neutrality around him. "Don't you want to do something fun?"

"I'm working, I don't worry about having fun while I'm on the clock." You said, rolling your eyes before refocusing on the conversation you were having before as the appetizers were served. He was right though, things like this were incredibly boring. Rarely did you ever have fun at company events. You thanked the waiter, words hitching slightly when you felt a stiff shoe glide by your heeled foot, an ankle hooking around yours brashly. You blinked and looked back towards the man in the striped suit, a neutral expression on his face other than slight lift of his eyebrow, the silver hardware of his piercing sparkling. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to resist saying anything, trying to stop the heat pooling towards your lap.

You looked away quickly and he laughed, it's charming silvery tone ringing in your ears in a way that only distracted you further. You pushed your foot against his unconsciously, rolling your ankle around his as you carried on listening to the conversation around. It wasn't until he pulled away from you, touch ripped away that you realized you had been so forward with your actions. You watched him rise out of his chair, body limber and lean, looking down at you with a menacing intensity. He quirked his eyebrow again and you watched him stalk off towards were you knew the bathroom of the restaurant to be.

Even his walk was distracting, the way his shoulders rolled, hands swinging slightly, practically gliding across the room.

"What were you saying?" The woman next to you asked, tapping on your shoulder.

"I," You started, still staring off in the direction he disappeared to. "I was saying that...You know, I actually will be right back, I have to make a phone call."

You got up quickly before you really knew what you were doing, pushing through the waiters still trying to serve the large room full of VIPs. You passed the hallway to the bathroom when a hand snaked out and yanked you to the side, a now familiar pair of eyes staring down at you.

"I thought you didn't want to have fun?" He asked, a small smile on his face.

"I'm making an exception," You mocked, repeating his words from earlier before kissing him brashly.

His lips were soft on yours, tongue fighting against yours for control of the kiss almost instantly. His hands smoothed down your body and pushed you into the bathroom, ass pressing against the countertop. You matched his ferocity, biting down on his lip and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down closer to you. He lifted you onto the countertop, hands still kneading any part of you he could get his hands on. His hand settled on the jut of your hip, breath panting out as he moved down to your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there.

"Don't fucking leave a mark," You snapped, words venomous despite your hands pulling him between your knees. You hooked your legs around his figure, sighing as he pushed a sleeve of your dress off your shoulder and bit down on the space of your skin that was previously covered, laving over the spot with tongue.

"I'll be careful," he promised, "No one will see. My name's Jungkook, by the way."

You felt a lick of heat in the pit of your stomach, something animalistic that told you to keep going, ask for more, demand it from him. You didn't bother telling him your name and he didn't ask for it, pushing a hand up your dress instead. His hand rubbed circles on your skin and you realized he had rings on, cool metal pressing into the flesh of your thigh. Your brain felt like it was fizzing out, dial tones going off instead of coherent thoughts. God, why did his hands feel so good on your body? Why was he such a good kisser? What cologne was he wearing?

"Tell me to stop," He dared, pulling his lips off of you. He rested his forehead on the top of your shoulder, hand freezing in place. You said nothing, watching instead as he tilted his head back up to you with a surprised expression.

"Don't," You mumbled, voice so quiet you'd think he didn't hear you if he didn't smile at you. It wasn't a smirk this time, not a sly little expression, no cockiness in sight. He looked...sweet. Pretty. His eyes were sparkly and his cheeks fluffed up when he smiled like this, nose crinkling slightly. You felt your heart pang and wondered what the fuck was happening to you- who the hell was this guy?

"You wanna get fucked by a stranger in a random bathroom?" He grinned, going back to the cocky motherfucker you had known all night. He stood to his full height, hand still kneading into your skin as he gazed down at you, eyes catching on your parted lips. He tilted his head and leaned in, stopping just shy of contact. You skated a hand down his body, pressing fingertips against the firm abs you could outline under the silky material of his shirt, smiling slightly when you heard his breathing stop as you dragged your palm over the crotch of his pants, outlining his hard cock with your fingernail and wrapping your hand over it. You squeezed lightly, feeling Jungkook's fingers push up your leg and pull your panties to the side, "You're interesting." He mumbled, frowning slightly.

"No, I'm not," You said flatly, just before he dragged a finger through your folds. You breathed in sharply, feeling him brush past your clit and press down lightly, hips bucking up slightly. He thrust two fingers in you suddenly and you moaned. Jungkook kissed you, muffling your noises of need with his mouth on yours. Your back arched up to him, mind completely blank as he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Slow-"

"No, fast." He grunted, "Gotta open your tight little pussy up if you want my cock. You do want my cock, right baby?"

You kissed him desperately, feeling his fingers split and scissor inside of your pussy, his thumb rubbing into your clit in rough motions. Nothing about what he was doing to you was gentle or soft, pushing you, stretching your limits, teasing you where he could.

"Yeah," You nodded, "Yeah, I want you to fuck me."

Your breathing became labored and you felt your chest heave as he curled his fingers, looking for a certain spot until a jab of his fingers had you spasming. He kissed you still, smirking against your lips as he angled his fingers to hit the same spot over and over until he had you cumming around his hands, wrapped around his finger like a cute little bow, willing and able to do anything he wanted you to. He was staring at you again, inky eyes locked on your face, scanning your expression as you came like he was trying to memorize it. He pulled his hand away too quickly, taking your panties with him.

Jungkook tucked your now ruined lace panties in his suit pocket and gazed at you, grinning as he unzipped his pants, "Okay, I'm gonna fuck you now."

"Okay," You said weakly, feeling your pussy spasm around nothing.

He shuffled closer to you, standing in between your legs as he pumped his cock. You peered down, wanting to see what his cock looked like before it entered you. Shit- he was huge. Maybe he should've used another finger. You watched him reach in his wallet and pull out a condom, tearing it open quickly before rolling it over his cock. You bit down on your lip nervously, realizing how much this was about to sting.

"What? Nervous? Wanna stop?" Jungkook asked, tilting your head back up to look at him with a finger underneath your chin.

You locked eyes with him, eyes warm and inviting. His lips were flushed pink and had some of your lipgloss smudged on them, cheeks flushed and a glow on his skin. He was really pretty like this. He was just pretty in general. No, you definitely didn't want to stop.

"No," You said simply, "I want you."

He smiled and nodded shortly, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in with one smooth motion, "What pretty girl wants, pretty girl gets."

You laughed shakily, leaning into the slight burn of his cock splitting you open, "Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want," He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before starting to move his hips, cock pulling and pushing against your pussy walls. "Shit- you feel really fucking good around me."

You moaned at his words, feeling his hips snap back, pulling his cock almost completely out of you before slamming back in. You were glad you were sitting on the countertop, you weren't sure your legs were working at the moment, curled tightly around Jungkook's body. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling your dress up and out of the way so he could watch your pussy take him, liking the wet noises that came along with how turned on you were.

"So wet, you have a crush on me or something?" He joked, laughing in a dry sort of way. You rolled your eyes and gripped a hand over his bicep, digging your nails into the muscle there underneath his suit jacket.

His thrusts quickened and he released one of your hips to slip his fingers around where your pussy was stretched around his cock, rubbing the folds there, adding stimulation that ripped the air from your body, making your head spin, body beginning to float away to nothingness.

"You're so fucking sexy," You moaned, gazing at him and the look of total concentration on his face as he fucked you into the bathroom countertop. His brow furrowed, sweat dripping down his face, pink tongue sticking out between his lips slightly. There was no way there was another guy on the planet like him- no one was this attractive.

You saw him blush and look up towards you nervously, suddenly shy to make eye contact, "Yeah? Y-you are too."

It was your time to smirk, rolling your body onto his. You felt his fingers latch onto your clit, rubbing incessantly. You clenched your pussy around him and he groaned, keening over and smashing his face into the crook of your neck, breath stuttering. He changed his pace suddenly, rolling his hips onto yours with an even faster speed you didn't know was possible. He was precise, pushing on the sensitive spot in your pussy with his fingers on your clit matching, pulsing, squeezing, tugging sharply.

"Your pussy felt so good cumming around my fingers," He mumbled against your skin, "Wanna feel it around my cock too, can you do that for me?"

"Okay, only because you asked so nicely." You smiled, feeling his hand squeeze your side in response. He bit down on the same spot of your shoulder he did earlier and that was it- you were unraveling around him in an uncontrollable way. You whined out his name over and over, triggering his own release as his hips finally faltered, shoving against yours for the last time. He stilled in you, moaning against your skin in that silvery tone that rang out like a bell in your ears. You felt him empty into the condom that separated yourself from him, feeling oddly angry that he had worn one to begin with.

You had just gotten fucked hard and were already wondering what it would feel like to have him do it again without a condom, what it would feel like to be stuffed with his cum. You squeezed around him unintentionally, getting turned on again at the thought. He winced, feeling oversensitive and pulled out of you slowly. His hands were shaking slightly, pulling off the condom and tying it closed before throwing it away in the trashcan.

You pulled your dress down as you caught your breath, floating back down to earth. Your eyes fell on the clock- you had been gone for 20 minutes.

"I should've been back at the table already," You noted, staring at the clock.

Jungkook tucked himself back into his pants and fixed his appearance, frowning at the mirror, "I should've kept fucking you for longer."

You laughed and ran a hand through your hair, "Maybe I should just go home- it'll be suspicious if we both go back at this point and I've made enough conversation for the night."

Jungkook stood in front of you, looking too happy but otherwise rid of all evidence of being freshly fucked, "Give me your number at least, I want to see you again."

You pursed your lips and debated it for a moment, staring at the hopeful look on his face. Normally, you'd say no. But something about him...

"Fine," You said nonchalantly. "But don't expect anymore exceptions from me. I'm hard work."

"I'm okay with that," He grinned, pulling his phone out quickly.

You really hoped that he was because he officially impressed you.

[expectingtofly]

Not-So-Easy-Bake Oven, 2k

Established Dean/Cas, Toddler Jack, Fluff without Plot

day 3 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: baking

“Petzel, petzel, petzel!” Jack chanted, banging a tiny plastic whisk on the table. He wore a kid's apron decorated with bumblebees, dotted black lines twisting and curving to show the bees' crisscrossing flights.

“Alright, buddy, give me a sec,” Dean said, pouring a bag of dry pretzel mix into a bowl. Charlie had bought Jack an Easy-Bake Oven for his fourth birthday, and this was their first time using it and its soft pretzel making kit—much to Jack’s excitement.

Cas came over from the sink with the kit’s measuring cup filled with water. “Wanna pour?” he asked Jack. He steadied Jack’s hand as he took the cup and poured it into the bowl. “Now it’s time to mix.”

He lifted Jack up to kneel on the table, and, gripping his whisk in one fist, Jack began stirring the mix and water together—if jabbing the bowl could be called stirring.

Dean opened the oven, checking to see if it was working. Already pretty warm for a squat bright pink appliance. “Woulda killed for something like this when I was younger.” He looked at the inside of his wrist. “Used to have a pretty nasty scar from when I tried making Sam brownies in some janky motel oven.”

“You should’ve never been left unattended in the kitchen at such a young age,” Cas griped, grabbing the bowl before it careened over the table's edge from Jack’s vigorous stirring. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. If I ever meet John…”

Dean grinned. “He’s lucky he never met you.”

“Exactly.”

"Done," Jack announced, dropping the whisk. Dean raised an eyebrow at the bowl where the mix was only half-combined, dry powder still clinging to the bowl.

"Looks good, kid," he told him, and picked up the flimsy pink whisk to finish stirring.

Jack protested, though, grabbing his hand. "Done!"

"It just needs a little more," Dean told him. "Look, it's not totally mixed."

"Hey, Jack," Cas said. "Help me pick out stuff to put in our pretzels." Successfully distracted, Jack clambered over to him and Cas carried him to the pantry.

Dean finished stirring the mix quickly. "Good choice," he heard Cas say and looked over to see him grabbing a bottle of soy sauce. Oh boy.

The oven chimed, announcing it was pre-heated, and Dean stared at the lumpy excuse for dough in the bowl. Maybe it’d look more appetizing when cooked.

"Chocolate chips, pepper, raisins, oregano," Cas listed, coming over and setting various items down on the table.

"Uhh." Dean stared at the box of corn flakes Jack carried over to the table, nearly as big as his torso. He couldn't figure out which items were Cas’ choice and which were Jack's suggestions. "Not really sure all this goes together."

"You never know," Cas said, picking Jack up and standing him on a chair.

He might not've known for sure, but he was pretty sure he could guess. "Alright, well." He dumped the dough onto the table and divided it into small sections. "Time to experiment, I guess."

Cas sprinkled flour on the table so they could roll out the dough, but before he could even close the bag, Jack smacked his hand down on the table, sending a cloud of flour into the air.

Cas coughed, waving flour away from his face and Jack cackled, one palm dusted white. Dean laughed at Cas, until Jack leaned over and swiped at his t-shirt.

"Dude, seriously?" Dean asked him, brushing his shirt off. Jack only laughed, clapping his hands to send more flour floating in the air. "How ‘bout you put the flour to good use?" Placing a small ball of dough in front of Jack, he propped up the box that the mix had come in and studied the instructions for forming a pretzel shape.

"So first you roll the dough out into a rope," he said, following along with the pictures. "Then you form it into a u-shape." He glanced at Jack to see if he was paying any attention, but Jack seemed more interested in rolling the dough around the table and through the flour. Then he yelped, staring at his hands in bewilderment.

"I'm messy," he said, staring at the dough sticking to his fingers. He held them up to Cas, who told him.

"You have to get your hands dirty." Taking one of the balls of dough, he poured some chocolate chips on it and began rolling them into the dough. "Look at Daddy."

Jack looked over at Dean, just as his dough rope tore in two. "Dammit." He balled the dough back together. “Let’s try that again.”

Before he could try, though, Jack started clamoring for the corn flakes, so Dean set a handful of the cereal on the table. "I think this is gonna mess up the baking times," he said, skimming the back of the box. "Recipe doesn't say anything about adding extra shit."

"This is a child's baking oven. It's supposed to foster fun and creativity." Cas nodded at the box.

Dean turned the box around. Fun for the whole family! it read along with a photo of perfectly formed pretzels. At the bottom, it also read, "Ages 8 and up." Ah. So maybe a little advanced for a four year old.

Corn flakes went flying and Dean dodged one shooting towards his eye. Oblivious, Jack continued crushing the cereal with the flat of his hand, a gleeful smile on his face.

"Yup, uh, good enough," Dean said quickly, grabbing Jack's hands.

"No!" Jack yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

"Take the oregano," Dean said quickly, hoping for a distraction. It worked, except now he had to hand over the container and watch Jack sprinkle the herb all over the near vicinity. Maybe he could pass off clean-up duty to Cas, who was making his own mess, adding food dye to his dough to make a swirl of purple and pink.

He helped Jack combine the corn flakes and oregano into the dough, then roll it out into a rope. Cupping Jack's hands, he guided him through curving the rope of dough into a U-shape, crossing the two ends twice, then pulling them over to make a rough pretzel shape.

“Hey, not too bad.” Pulling out his phone, he took a photo. "Smile for Charlie, Jack."

Jack held up the pretzel, effectively warping the shape, and grinned at the camera. "I make one for Auntie," he declared when Dean lowered the phone, and grabbed more dough to form his own pretzel.

“How did you do that?” Cas asked, studying the box. Going to him, Dean did the same thing he’d did with Jack, standing behind him and holding his hands to help him form a pretzel shape. Cas' fingers were dusted with flour, and Dean got a bit distracted by the way Cas leaned back against him, letting him guide him into creating a pretty decent pretzel. Not as perfect as the ones on the box, but close enough.

“I think I’ve got it,” Cas said, grabbing more dough and forming another pretzel in two easy swoops. Okay, way better than the one before.

“Did you just trick me into helping you?” Dean asked, pulling away from him slightly.

Cas tilted his head into him. “Mhm.”

Dean rolled his eyes but kissed his neck anyway.

Several tries and several more mishaps later, and they had a few semi-recognizable pretzels. Some they dipped into a cinnamon sugar glaze that came with the kit, others they placed as is into small, pink, round dishes.

“They go in here and cook for ten minutes,” Cas instructed, helping Jack push the dishes inside the oven. Jack peered into the opening, then back at Cas and Dean.

“Done now?”

“Gonna be a long ten minutes,” Dean said, setting the timer.

They tried to clean up as the pretzels cooked, though Jack was covered in so much flour, food dye, and dough that he left a trail wherever he moved. And he would not stop moving. As Dean tried to wipe down the table, Jack ran loops around the island, and when Cas tried sweeping, Jack decided to start spinning around in the middle of the kitchen until he fell over. Then do it all over again.

“If he has this much energy now, what the hell’s he gonna be like when you give him a chocolate chip pretzel?” Dean asked Cas, putting the oregano and soy sauce back. He had no idea which pretzel Cas had slipped the sauce into and was not eager to find out.

“That may have been an oversight on my part,” Cas admitted. The oven beeped and Jack rushed to the table.

“Petzel!” he began chanting again.

"Don't touch," Dean warned, using a tool from the kit to pull the dishes out of the oven and place them on the table.

“Which one do you want to try first?” Cas asked Jack, who took a moment to study the pretzels before pointing to the purple and pink one—or what was once those colors but had now taken on a more bloody appearance.

"It's pretty," he said.

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, transferring the pretzels onto a plate. Dean turned off the oven, then startled when Jack began crying.

“Hot!” Jack cried, pointing at the dish Dean had told him not to touch. In hindsight, he should’ve realized the temptation would’ve been too much to resist.

“Let me see,” Cas said, taking Jack’s hand.

“No, it hurt,” Jack cried, trying to pull his hand away.

“Alright, alright.” Scooping Jack up, Dean carried him over to the sink and turned on the cold water. When he held Jack’s hand under the stream, Jack squirmed, trying to get away.

“Cold!” he yelled.

“I’m trying to help, dude,” Dean told him. “This’ll make it feel better.” More startled than hurt, it seemed, Jack calmed down after a few seconds. Turning off the water, Dean studied his finger. Not even a blister, but he nodded at Cas. “Think Dada can help?”

Jack nodded and held out his finger to Cas. "Booboo.” Cas took his tiny hand and kissed his finger.

“Are you too injured to eat a pretzel?” he asked.

“No!” Jack yelled, suddenly all energy again, squirming out of Dean’s grasp. Dean set him down and he ran to the table, clambering on a chair to grab the purple/pink monstrosity of a pretzel.

“Try one,” Cas told Dean, joining Jack and pushing over the plate.

Dean grimaced, but chose the cinnamon sugar and corn flake one. Why that was even a combination was beyond him. Bracing himself, he took a bite. Okay. Dry. Pretty bland. Crunchy which was just wrong, but not horrible—wait. He took that back. Oregano and cinnamon sugar did not go well together.

"Um. Well.” He choked down the rest of the bite and set the pretzel back on the plate. “These are, uh..."

"Not good," Cas finished. He squinted at his own pretzel, then took another hesitant bite. Instantly, his face screwed up, and he shook his head, dropping the pretzel onto the plate. “It seems you were right. Soy sauce, pepper, and raisins do not mix."

“Who would’ve thought?” Dean deadpanned. Jack munched happily on his pretzel, cinnamon sugar covering his chubby cheeks. “Someone’s enjoying them, at least.”

“For Charlie,” Jack announced, pointing at one of the pretzels on the plate.

“She’ll love a day-old pretzel,” Dean told him.

“Yes, she will,” Cas said, giving Dean a look. He pushed Jack’s hair back from his face. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Jack abandoned the colorful pretzel for the chocolate chip one, then the corn flake one. True to his word, he left one untouched on the plate for Charlie. She would get a kick out of it when she visited. I knew he'd love it!! she'd responded to the photo Dean had sent her of Jack holding up a pretzel.

“This was fun,” Cas said, a smile on his face, watching Jack.

“Yeah.” Dean looked over at the mess of bowls and dishes in the sink and back at the flour streaked table. Making a fist over his open palm, he said, “Loser has to clean.”

Cas straightened, a competitive gleam in his eye. “Agreed.”

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” Cas threw scissors and Dean threw paper.

“Dammit,” he exclaimed. “You always do rock.”

Cas grinned. “And so I conditioned you to think I’d do it now.”

“Christ, when’d you get so conniving?” He got up and asked Jack, “You wanna help your old man clean?”

“No, tank you,” Jack replied.

“‘Least he was polite,” Cas said.

“Good luck getting him down for a nap later.”

“Why’s that my job now?”

“Sorry,” Dean turned on the water to start scrubbing the bowls. “Can’t hear you over all the cleaning I’m doing.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Dean grinned when Jack offered him a bite of his pretzel and Cas had to act like he enjoyed it. Turning back to the sink, he grabbed the sponge. This was a lot of fun.

[ggukkiedae]

❝𝕣𝕦𝕟 𝕓𝕥𝕤 𝕖𝕡. 𝟠𝟛-𝟠𝟝❞

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

⇢ when you put bangtan in a resort that’s basically a water park

𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. requests and feedback are highly appreciated!

Episode 83

yoonmi was practically drowning in the big shirt over her rashguard, so you can see her tying it at her waist while the others introduce the episode

“today’s run bts’s theme is summer outing”

“oh god, i’m not good at sports”

jungkook and her met eyes and “i got you, mimi” “hopefully we’re on the same team”

she got grouped with namjoon, hoseok, and seokjin

while the other team celebrated, she laughed while hoseok and seokjin lifted her up with their arms forming a makeshift throne

“oppas, please, i’m not good with sports”

she cheered when hoseok was called out to do the warm up exercises

she was giggling the whole warm up “why are we doing dance basics?”

she stretched out on the side, pulling her legs up into a scorpion position one at a time before sitting by the side of the pool. seokjin lifted her from under her armpits and placed her in the pool where the water reached her chest, almost to her collar bones

she exchanged looks with her teammates

“we’re at a huge disadvantage” “you’re telling me? they have ggukoo oppa, and he’s a powerhouse! i’m a noodle”

the game starts, and it shows the chaotic mess of the members. then there’s a one shot of her lightly splashing around in the water with squeaky noises layered on it

taehyung laughs and calls a time out around half way into the game “hold on, we’re at second set, and yoonmi’s just been playing in the back the whole time” “but, oppa, i’m literally armpit deep in the water!”

everyone laughs and calls her over to stand near their net with the caption “makdungie with no competitive bone” around her

surprisingly, she was able to hit the ball to the back where yoongi couldn’t reach

buuut they lost the second round

“i told you guys i can’t play”

for the third set, she was in front once again and the ball was just constantly sailing over her head. eventually she pouts

“i’m short, this isn’t fair”

to which hoseok just laughs and pats her head

she cheers when jungkook hits the ball softer for her to hit

but then he hits it back way too hard and it goes far behind them

“oppa,” she gasped at a laughing jungkook “are you mad?”

she hit the last ball, and they won the third set. the other three cheered and pulled her into a group hug

there’s a clip of yoonmi struggling to get out of the pool so jungkook lifts her out

next cut she’s in protective gear looking nervously at the boat

“are we gonna fly off? i can’t really swim” “that’s why you have a life vest, princess”

her eyes widened when she saw how fast and rocky the little boat was moving

“oppas! is it hard to stay on?”

all she could hear was screaming. she looked at seokjin “i’m gonna die” “no you’re not” “yes i am”

then it was their turn to get on. jungkook lightly tapped the side of her helmet “you’ll be fine. just hold tight”

her eyes and mouth are squeezed shut while they’re going, and she screams when the boat jumps

“125x7” “oppas, it’s 875, let’s do this fast so we can get off fast”

namjoon laughed “terror made you smarter makdungie”

then the boat moves once again

they arrive on land and she just lies down on the wooden floor

“oh my god, i’m never doing that again”

jimin shook his head fondly and pulled her to the others where they had chicken

she was zoned out and the caption on her one-shot said “the most stressed she’s been in her 19 years of life”

Episode 84

she was a lot more lively in the next game

“i like slides, this will be fun”

they chose her to go last and she grinned

she sat on where they were standing and clapped her hands when she saw the other members going down

by the time it was her and jungkook’s turn, the two maknaes cheerfully went up the slide

“they’re the only one’s not scared” namjoon noted

seokjin gave a confused look “which is surprising for yoonmi, but she enjoys slides too much”

she and jungkook did little wiggly dances when the pd asked if they were ready making the other members laugh

they went down, and she made sure to curl herself into a ball the moment she was off the slide

she stayed in the air considerably long before unfolding her body

once they hit the water, she floated up and wiped her face while laughing. jungkook pulled her with him to the side where she wasn’t even fazed at the news of losing

“it was fun!”

when taehyung went and forgot to say the s in bts, she fell to the ground in laughter

for the bob jump, they asked her if she would be able to do it to which she said no and curled up next to yoongi who also wasn’t doing it

“have fun, oppas”

she watched in awe while jungkook went and audibly gasped when she saw how high he went

“yup, i could not have managed that”

yoongi pulled her back to a chair where he kept her on his lap, wrapping them both in a towel to keep them warm while they watched the others

she sneezed a few times before yoongi looked at the on site medic

then they were on the platform by the obstacle course

“as you can see, we’re only seven now, but only six of us will be participating since hobi is feeling seasick, and yoonmi developed a slight fever, so we aren’t letting her play in case it gets worse”

“i want to go on the obstacle course, though,” yet she was silenced by six pairs of eyes silently telling her no to which she sighed

she sat on the blue platform to watch, but the staff told her to go wash up and get dressed in something warm. she pouted but hugged the six boys before running off

Episode 85

she appeared a little worse for wear with her hood up over her head.

jimin stood up and opened his arms

“aigoo, aegi, come here”

she sulked towards him and settled in a hug

“you’re burning up,” he felt her forehead, “thankfully you didn’t get too sick in the middle of a game. go sit beside kookie”

she sat on the table, head in her arms, while the others got food.

jungkook eventually returned not just with food, but also with a bottle of water and some medicine for yoonmi

taehyung was constantly feeding her or putting food on her plate

she was practically half asleep while eating, so she barely followed along with what was happening

“no,” seokjin laughed, “it’s a little funny because even hobi has more energy than yoonmi right now, and hobi just woke up”

she watched them do the bottle cap challenge with a tired smile

eventually taehyung pulled her over into a back hug and waddled them both towards the other chairs

then they were seated for the manito. she was between jimin and jungkook, arms tucked into the torso portion of her hoodie while jungkook tied her sleeves together

the pds asked her if she was okay “i drank my medicine! i’m okay!”

she saw yoongi’s gift and burst into a fit of giggles. when she saw seokjin’s gift, she just laughed. she burst into laughter when she saw taehyung’s gift and fell off her chair, so jimin had to help her up by untying her sleeves, but he fell, too which lead to more laughter

then namjoon started to approach taehyung with his gift

she jumped in surprise when he handed a small box to her

“oh, me? is this bts goods again?”

she opened the box and pulled out a leather bound notebook and a case of colorful pens. the leather notebook had “M.Y.” engraved in gold on the corner

“woah”

namjoon smiled when he sat back down “i know you’re looking into bullet journalling, so i thought maybe i could help you get started”

she smiled and skipped over to him before kissing his cheek “thank you oppa”

then it was her turn to give a gift. she twirled a little before gently attacking yoongi in a hug and placing a small paper bag in his arms. yoongi let her sit on his lap while he opened it

“woah, princess, and this fit in the price range?” “yupp!”

inside was a necklace with a shield shaped charm that had a heart shaped hole in it. she helped yoongi put it on then pulled her own necklace from under her hoodie and connected them

“yours is the shield because you always protect me and the oppas. you can even hang it on your bed or clip it to your bags, i don’t mind”

the other members were cooing at her while yoongi patted her cheek and pressed a kiss to the top of her head

“wait,” seokjin began, “so three of us got bangtan goods while yoonmi and yoongi don’t? wahhh”

this made everyone laugh

yoonmi went back to her seat and excitedly opened the notebook namjoon gave her, pleased to see the pages were dotted

they all finished giving each other presents, and she was just smiling despite how tired and lightheaded she felt

“it’s actually pretty nice we got to get each other presents” “you got journalling stuff, mimi. i got v fans” “that’s taetae oppa watching over you and keeping you cool!”

she leaned against yoongi for their ending shot. after calling out the slogan and the camera panning away, you can hear her voice

“i’m gonna start on my bullet journal as soon as i’m better and i’ve printed my pictures and stickers!”

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 23

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1945

Warnings:  Pregnancy, smut (MFF bisexual threesome, Vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex, electro stimulation, the use of wanda’s powers in a sexual way)

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 24: The Photoshoot

The baby shower that had been strictly no gifts had ended up with a handful of gifts anyway.  They were mostly clothes - though Sam’s sister bought a breast pump that she had sworn by, while Loki and Angela had brought protective totems from Asgard.  There were a few plush or little wooden toys from people too.  Rhodey had bought all the kids, starting from Riley and Pietro, Cat in the Hat t-shirts.  Riley’s was labeled Thing One, Pietro’s Thing two, and then there were four tiny baby t-shirts labeled things three through six.  Phil got a little bundle of onesies that had funny little round cat-like blobs on them and the slogan ‘I love all my mommies and daddies’.

The party was fun but exhausting and Wanda, Natasha, and I all ended up going to bed early that night and sleeping right through.

Afterward, Wanda was very excited about doing a pregnancy photoshoot.  It wasn’t too hard to convince Natasha to in the end.  Partially because the pregnancy had been going so well for her and she wanted to commemorate the time she finally got past everything the Red Room had done to her.  But mostly it was just because she loved Wanda so much and she wanted her to have anything that made her happy.

We all headed out to the Avengers facility in upstate New York for the photos.  It was surrounded by forest and by the river so that we could give Wanda the full Earth mother vibe that she’d been cultivating.

We had three ideas in mind.  One was outside and two would be in the old house.  We started with the tamest version.  Wanda, Natasha, and I all put on long, flowing georgette gowns, our hair loose, with flower crowns.  Wanda wore magenta with matching roses, Natasha - black with black orchids, dotted with red poppies, and I wore a sky blue with delphinium and sea holly.

We were going with a family shoot to start with so everyone else wore white linen.  The kids both had baby’s breath threaded through their hair and were very excited to be out in the woods with the family and the dogs.  We did photos of them kissing tummies.  Of our whole group walking in a line through the woods with Wanda, Natasha, and I in the middle.  All of us lying in the grass everyone cuddles up to the three pregnant women.  Photos of hoards of hands on bellies.   All the standard pictures you see when you think of pregnancy photoshoot in the woods only there was a gaggle of us.

When the kids seemed to grow bored of the photoshoot we all headed back to the house so Wanda, Natasha, and I could change and they could play with the toys they hadn’t seen for the last month since we’d been back.

Wanda, Natasha, and I changed into lace gowns the same colors as the others.  These weren’t normal lace gowns though.  They were strapless, and while the empire cut bodice was solid the skirt was completely transparent and opened right down the middle exposing our bellies.  We paired the dresses with lace boyleg panties.  Wanda wore black, Natasha red, and I wore white.

We stayed inside for these photos and posed in sexier and more intimate poses with each other.  We would drape ourselves over couches and the bed.  We cuddle up to each other and put our hands on each other’s exposed bellies.  There were photos of us kissing and caressing each other.

Finally, we stripped down to our underwear for the last part of the shoot and hopped in a tub with milky white water together.  The photographer decorated the outside of the tub with flowers and candles and floated flowers around us in the tub, so the three of us were all floating, with our heads on the edge and our bellies poking out of the water towards the middle, our legs tangled together in the water.

By the time we were done, I was pretty tired and hungry.  We changed into sweats and ate with the others before the three of us went to take a nap.

I woke up to a shift of the bed beside me as the whole thing swayed.  I opened my eyes as whoever had climbed into bed with us wrapped his arms around me and turned to see Thor.  Natasha was already gone and Wanda had started to stir beside me.

“Good evening, my queen,” Thor said, kissing my neck.  “I was sent to wake you up.”

“You gonna do it by getting me all worked up?” I complained, backing my ass against him.

“You’re always waking us with kisses and soft touches,” Thor said.  “I was merely returning the favor.”

“You’re not an overly hormonal pregnant woman,” I huffed.

“No, that is true,” he chuckled.  “I am a man though.”

I started giggling and Wanda moved closer to us.  “What’s happening?”

“Dinner will be served shortly,” Thor explained.  “I was sent to come and wake the both of you.”

“By getting me all turned on,” I pouted.

“I can tell,” Wanda teased.  “Which isn’t helping me at all.”

“I am sure I can help both of you with your problem before the meal is served,” Thor said as his fingers traced over Wanda’s nipples.  “Who would like to go first?”

“Elise,” Wanda said, quickly.  “The two of you can bring me close before you touch me.”

“As you wish, my love,” Thor said, leaning over and kissing her deeply.

As the two of them kissed, Thor slipped his hand into my pants and began to slowly roll his hips against my back.  I could feel his erection starting to press into me as he rutted against me, but he took his time, teasing my clit and kissing the side of my neck.

Wanda leaned forward and kissed me, her lips parted as they brushed over mine, and I followed her lead, bringing my tongue out to meet hers.  I moaned softly into the kiss and ran my hand up into her hair.  She hummed and shifted closer, our bellies touching against each other.

She pulled back and lifted my shirt over my head.  As she did thor pushed my pants and panties down in one go.  He shucked off his own clothes and pulled me tighter against him, so his erection sat against my asscrack.  Each time he rolled his hips his shaft moved up and down the crevice.

His hand returned to my cunt as Wanda leaned down and pulled one of my nipples into her mouth.  I mewled and tugged on her hair as my arousal started to seep from within me.  Thor’s fingers worked my clit quickly and with practiced ease, sending shivers running through me and making my whole body vibrate in anticipation of more.  A small spark danced off his fingertips, sparking against my clit.  I gasped and came then and there with no warning, jerking between them as my cunt spasmed.

Thor chuckled.  It was a deep booming sound that made me feel warm right to my core.  “That was quick.”

“You cheated,” I teased playfully.

“I am sorry, let’s see if I can do this properly,” he laughed, and lined his cock up at my entrance.

“Don’t do anything to hurt the babies,” Wanda said, looking over my shoulder at Thor.

“My life,” Thor said.  “I am a fertility god, I know what I’m doing.”

I started giggling but it was cut off by a gasp as Thor thrust into me.  He didn’t allow any time for me to adjust, he just began to thrust into me from behind.  Wanda resumed sucking on one breast and then the other.  She was feeding off both mine and Thor’s pleasure, and as we began to moan with it, so did she.

She flicked her wrist and a small ball of pink light ran down my skin, between my legs, and began to vibrate against my already oversensitive clit.  I mewled and jerked back between them, my legs trembling.  One of my hands tightened in Wanda’s hair and I reached behind me and gripped Thor’s arm with the other, tethering myself to them both.

“Oh god,” I gasped, quivering between them.  “Won’t last.”

“Whenever you want, Elise,” Thor rumbled as he continued to snap his hips into me.

I tried to relax, but my muscles spasmed and clenched.  I dug my fingers into Thor’s arm and he wrapped his hand around my throat and tilted my head back to him, fiercely kissing me.

Things became hazy and I couldn’t focus on anything except the building pressure in my cunt and the tendrils of pleasure that spread out from my breasts.  Wanda increased the buzz from her energy projection and moaned loudly as my cunt suddenly seized up.  I cried out, breaking the kiss with Thor as I came hard, shuddering between them.

Thor slowed his pace, fucking me through my orgasm before slipping out of me and climbing over us both.  He positioned himself behind Wanda so he was spooning her the way he did me, and cradled her carefully.  I kissed my way down her body as helping Thor undress her as Thor rutted slowly against her.  When we’d removed her shirt, I latched on to one of her breasts and sucked on her nipple, drawing a sharp gasp from her.  Thor pushed her pants off and began to slide his cock up and down her soaked folds.

I kissed down lower, over her baby bump where the strings of light only I could see connected me to both her and the twins growing inside her, and down to her cunt.  Thor adjusted her hips back and eased his cock inside her.  She moaned softly and I lifted her leg and began to lap at the place where they joined and up over her clit.

“Oh!”  She gasped and her hands tightened in the sheets.

“Are you okay, my beloved?”  Thor asked.

“Oh yes, Thor,” she mewled.

He began to thrust and I sucked greedily on her clit.  The flavor of her arousal filled my mouth as I lapped up her fluids.  They were musky and sweet and heady in a way that almost made me drunk on her.  Each flick of my tongue made her moan more loudly and she seemed to have trouble controlling her limbs.  She gripped at the sheets pulling them free from the edge and she kicked out, her toes curling.

Her clit began to twitch under my tongue as her breathing became ragged and Thor’s hips started moving faster, stuttering as he came closer to his own release.  I sucked Wanda’s clit into my mouth and flicked my tongue quickly back and forth over it and with a loud cry, Wanda came, her powers flaring out and engulfing us like an embrace.

Thor groaned and jerked up into her, releasing.  I could feel the pulse of his cock at the base against my mouth as he filled her.  Their fluids mixed together and leaked from Wanda down Thor’s shaft.  I licked up the cocktail of their arousal greedily and climbed back up the bed as Thor slipped from Wanda.

“Now, now, my loves,” Thor scolded, sitting up.  “We have to join the others for dinner.  You can’t go back to sleep.”

“Just five more minutes,” I joked, cuddling up to Wanda, making her giggle.

Thor gave my butt a playful spank.  “Come along.  None of that.”

Wanda and I got up, laughing as Thor helped us get redressed and we headed down to join the rest of our family.

// NEXT

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clans part 26! @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Michelangelo asked.

“I’m certain of it.” Draxum said with a powerful confidence in his voice.

Michelangelo wasn’t reassured. The place that Draxum had brought him was massive, a mansion by Michelangelo’s standards, and booming with life. Through the many windows on display flashed such a variety of colors that it must have been a dream, and the garden itself seemed to sway along to the music. The earth rumbled under Michelangelo’s feet, and the water in the fountain center danced along. High walls surrounded the mansion, but the gates were let open to allow yokai to flood in and out at their own discretion. Wherever Michelangelo looked were yokai, packed in so tightly they could hardly move but enjoying the festivities anyway. In Michelangelo’s opinion, it was too tight to really enjoy doing anything down in the courtyard, but he wasn’t going to let his opinion ruin their fun.

“Is it a party?” Michelangelo asked Draxum, looking to the faun for further explanation.

“Yes.” Draxum confirmed. “Yokai come and go as they please at all hours of night and day. Why do you think they don’t have any neighbors?”

Michelangelo looked around both sides of the mansion and, just as Draxum had stated, there were no other houses. “Do they throw parties a lot then?”

Draxum shook his head. “No, they’ve only ever thrown one, but it has been in effect as long as the Hidden City has been populated. They say that the buffet is always full and the music always plays. They also say that time moves different within the walls...”

“Who’s they?” Michaelangelo tilted his head.

“Y… you know. Them.” Draxum cleared his throat, then said sharply, “Stop asking questions!”

“But I have one more…” Michelangelo’s head shrunk into his shell.

Draxum gave a long, exasperated sigh. “Fine. One more.”

“Do we need an invitation to get in?”

Draxum shook his head. “No one ever gets invited to this place, they just show up. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Draxum grabbed Michelangelo by the hand almost roughly and yanked him down the steps and into the crowd. If it weren’t for Draxum’s strong grip, Michelangelo was sure he would have been dragged away from his friend. But Draxum held him securely and kept them united as they forced their way through.

When they entered the grand mansion, Michelangelo was blinded by the lights bouncing off of white tile and deafened by the pounding of music screaming through his head. Baron Draxum seemed just as bothered, rubbing his ear with his free hand and grinding his teeth together. Teeth-grinding was such a nasty habit and Michelangelo made a mental note to confront him about it when they weren’t on such a tight time schedule.

A bump from a careless yokai almost knocked Michelangelo from Draxum, but the faun was quick to tighten his grip and yank Michelangelo against his side, wrapping his arms around the box turtle to shelter him from the crowd that tried to pull them apart.

“If we get separated here, we’ll never find each other.” Draxum growled, “So don’t be stupid. This isn’t a time for play.”

“What are we even looking for, Drax?” Michelangelo hated having to scream, especially indoors.

Draxum gave a frustrated snarl and shook his head, ignoring the question; though if it were out of malice or simply not hearing him Michelangelo wasn’t sure. He repeated the question, which earned him a furious look from Draxum.

“I heard you the first time!” Draxum said, “If I didn't answer you, it’s because I don’t know!”

Michelangelo’s head shrunk into his shell at the violence, but Draxum didn't seem to notice as he forced himself and the mutant deeper into the heart of the dance floor. As the party roared on around them, Michelangelo’s eyes sought for something calmer to lock on. Something away from the endless stimulation of motion and sound and strangers pushing and brushing against him. It was too much work, too many things to look at, and he couldn’t pick one thing out of the crowd and that only overwhelmed him even more!

Then he saw something. At first, he thought it was just a chair. A chair moving through the air of its own accord, powered by nothing he could see but surrounded in a gentle, baby-blue aura that radiated playful hope. It caught Michelangelo’s attention enough that the rest of the overstimulating party seemed to fade away into the background of his mind; it was still there, bumping softly, but not important. Not as important as that aura!

Then he saw the yokai on the chair and realized that she was guiding its motions; though it took away from the magical feeling that a sapient chair brought to his imaginative mind, Michelangelo quickly forgot about it in favor of the girl controlling it. The aura was coming from her, feeding into the chair and sharing her power to make it float. Michelangelo was sure of it! He wasn’t certain what kind of yokai she was, but she was pretty. Michelangelo climbed on Draxum’s shoulders to get a better look at her.

The yokai was wearing a baby blue jumpsuit that blended perfectly with her aura, her skin a beautiful copper. Her hair was hidden under a headscarf that matched the rest of her outfit in color, flowing down around her neck to cradle her plump face in the silky fabric; her lips were coated in a deep blue lipstick, glittering under the light of the chandelier, and her chin and cheeks were shimmering blue scales. Freckles of a matching color dotted her face. Body wise she was plump, defined curves along the entire length of her body making her look soft and huggable. From what Michelangelo could see of her body, the tops of her hands and arms were coated in the same scales as her face.

“What are you doing, tiny turtle?” Draxum growled.

“Look!” Michelangelo pointed up at the yokai. “She looks out of the ordinary!”

“She’s yokai, of course she is out of your ordinary.”

With the press of a button on the side of her chair, the bottom opened up and spilled confetti to shower down upon the cheering crowd.

“Honestly, orange turtle, going off of looks alone will get you… nowhere?” When Draxum looked back to address Michelangelo, he was no longer there. Draxum looked around himself trying to find the turtle mutant. “Orange turtle? Michelangelo?”

Draxum’s eyes searched forward and found the girl once more. He also found Michelangelo climbing his way up the mezzanine; why he didn't take the stairs, Draxum didn't know.

“Excuse me!” Michelangelo called, trying to be heard over the music. “Ma’am?! My name’s Mikey!”

Whether she heard or saw him was unclear, but the woman turned to face the mutant. She said nothing, however, just watching him as he continued his ascent.

“Hi! Yes! I’m talking to you!” Michelangelo hung expertly by his legs as he started to flail his arms, “I’m on a very important mission!”

There was no way she could hear him over the music, Michelangelo concluded. He needed to get closer still, and he was certain that she was within jumping range if he could just get a good takeoff…

He screamed when a sudden face materialized out of nowhere. A masked face was just inches away from his, a ghostly white with a deep frown and dark, red dots on his cheeks

“No one. Touches. Renet.” He grabbed Michelangelo firmly around the shoulders, able to carry the teen even as he struggled and kicked and tried to get free. Michelangelo looked to see what it was that kept this yokai floating, but it seemed truly nothing. There was no platform he was riding on nor wings carrying him; his legs were crossed and that alone seemed to give him the power of flight needed to return Michelangelo to Draxum. “I believe this is yours.”

“Sadly, yes.” Draxum took Michelangelo and the massive yokai stranger returned to his invisible state.

“What was that?!” Michelangelo whined as he hugged Draxum close.

“That was Gyoji.” Draxum said, “The Overseer. He keeps the party goers in line.

Michelangelo gave a soft whine and tried to find where the stranger woman, Renet, had gone off to. She was gone now; or maybe just out of his sights from the low vantage point. Either way, Michelangelo was sad. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk to her!

“If you are done playing around, then perhaps we can finally get some proper work done.”

“But Drax!” Michelangelo whined, tugging on the faun’s ears, much to Draxum’s annoyance. “He was protecting her! He said no one touches Renet!”

“So?” Draxum swatted Michelangelo away.

“So that must mean she’s important, right? At least the Overseer seems to really think so…”

“Important to him, maybe, but not to us. We have come to look for a Seamer of Time, not a peri.”

“Well…” Michelangelo thought for a moment before an evil grin spread across his face, “This is my mission, Draxum! I’m the one who needs the blessing, so I’m the one who’s calling the shots! And I say we should talk to her! It won’t hurt to try! Trust me, Draxum! She’s important, I know it!”

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track one

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Six. There were six different lines, tiny plastic tubes that hung down from the side of the bed, making the shape of a U in the air. Too many, but still, one less than yesterday.

“Is it alive?”

“No.”

“Is it a vegetable?”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“But is it a vegetable though?”

“No.”

“Aw shit.”

Indiana looked up from her hands then, brows furrowing at the small figure who had huddled herself under the thin cotton covers. You’d think, with how expensive hospital bills were that they could at least afford a real fucking blanket for their patients. Especially the kids.  

“C’mon now, watch the language.” She said. It was a half-hearted reprimand at best.

“You told me I could curse!”

“I told you that you could curse about your meds, there’s a difference.”

“Bullshit. I should be able to curse about anything I want to.”

“Bekah.” It was her mom voice – an instinct.

“Indiana.” The younger girl mimicked the tone as best she could.

There was a beat of silence then – well, as silent as a hospital room ever could get, that is. The monotonous song of machinery beeps, the muffled car horns outside on the streets, and nurses footsteps outside never truly faded.

“If the nurses hear you cursing in here they’re gonna say I’m a bad influence.” It was almost time for rounds and meds, 7pm on the dot - they’d be there any minute.

“Speak of the devil,” Bekah grumbled, eyes flitting to the door that was swinging open, the nurse bumping against it, her cart hitting the walls right on schedule.

“Hi miss Bekah, how’re we feeling this evening?”

“Shi-“

Indiana threw her a look, the kind she imagined her mom would give if she were there. Bekah sunk back into the pillow, rolling her eyes.

“-very. Shivery. It’s cold in here.”

She earned a thumbs up for that one and a wink that made her smile.

The nurse – Jennifer, Indiana realized – was as sweet as ever. She was one of the nicer ones, always let things slide, always let her stay 30 minutes after visiting hours if she really wanted to.

“That’s probably just the meds from earlier darling, they always make you a bit chilly.”

“Can’t wait to take more.” Bekah sighed, wiggling up in the bed and moving her shirt down, her collarbone prominent under her dark skin. Next to it sat a small bulge, surrounded by medical tape, two small tubes peeking out from underneath. They’d done a good job at making it subtle, unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it – Indiana’s mom’s port had never looked like that. She wondered if it was because the technology had improved in four years, or if they were just more careful about it when the patient was young.

Because it’s okay for an adult to have cancer, but a kid? That’s where we draw the fuckin’ line.

“Is it food?”

“What?” Jennifer asked, quirking an eyebrow as she continued to hang the bags on the IV pole.

“None of your business. Indiana, is it a food?”

“Now now,” Jennifer tutted.

“No, it’s not a food.” Indiana sighed, knowing better than to try and keep Bekah’s attitude in check. That was a battle she’d lose before it began. “Keep trying.”

She paused while the nurse took her time in getting her meds set and ready, attaching them to her port. She didn’t even flinch at the needle, the brown skin of her forehead as smooth and perfect as ever, not a worry line in sight. The game picked up as soon as Jennifer walked back out of the room.

“Is it something you- something you wear?” That was always the first sign that the meds entered her system – the ‘brain fog’ as she called it. Bekah sucked in a deep breath, her seemingly tiny chest rising up as she tried to settle herself. 

Indiana’s eyes flickered over to the IV bag – the clear liquid looked harmless enough as it dripped down. She knew it was anything but – just Bekah’s hair was enough to attest to that. She wore it in a wrap mostly these days, but she’d seen what was underneath. Her beautiful curls had started to fall out only a few weeks prior, and it was only a matter of time before they were gone completely. If she had to guess from what she’d seen when she fixed the knot of her wrap, the last of it would be gone after today.

“Yes, it’s something you wear.”

“So it’s clothes.”

“Not necessarily. You wear other things,” she explained, scooting her chair a bit closer to the bedside, reaching a hand out.

In the three years that Indiana had known Bekah, she was always amazed at how strong she was. It had impressed her from the first time she’d mustered up the courage to sign up for the volunteer program at the hospital two blocks away from her college apartment. Bekah was twelve then, a spunky young girl with big headphones over her ears and thick rubber bracelets on her thin wrists.

“Stop looking at me like that,” was what she’d chosen as an introduction. She’d looked up at Indiana with accusatory eyes, wide and dark and annoyed in the middle of the overly colorful pediatric wing hallway.

“Like what?”

“Like I have cancer. Don’t treat me like I’m sick and I won’t act like it. Capeesh?”

She’d only been able to swallow and nod, somewhat embarrassed but mostly just in awe.

So, when Indiana got matched with her as her ‘buddy’, she tried her hardest to do as she’d agreed to. Or at least, she did her best to be subtle about it. She could sneak in her moments of worry at times like this, when Bekah’s eyes were scrunched closed and she didn’t bat away the hand holding hers.

“Damn. The BBJ is not making me feel very BB esque today,” she grumbled, breathing deep in through her nose. Indiana’s other hand inched towards the bedpan resting on the table – the nausea usually kicked in right about now, and her deep breathing was always a tell that her stomach was churning. BBJ stood for ‘Bad Bitch Juice’ which was just the fun term for chemo that Bekah had come up with during one of her rotations a few years back. The nurses hated it, gave Indiana dirty looks when she let her say it around them.

“Bed pan at the ready,” Indiana reassured her, making sure it was in reach in case it got to be too much.

“Just keep playing the game, it’ll distract me. What do I know so far?”

“It’s not alive, it’s not a vegetable or a food, you can wear it but it’s not clothes.”

“Makeup?”

Indiana shook her head, doing everything to avoid reacting to the way Bekah was squeezing her hand. It was so tight that she felt her bones were probably touching each other in a way they weren’t meant to.

“Shoes?”

“No.”

“Do you wear it on your head?”

“I mean… technically?”

“That’s a cop out answer.”

“Don’t dwell on it, just keep going.”

She saw it coming before it happened – the turn of Bekah’s face, the way her body jolted just barely. It’s a good thing it wasn’t her first time, or she wouldn’t have gotten the bedpan under her fast enough to catch her vomit. She held her breath, tried not to listen to the sounds of retching so she didn’t get sick herself, holding steady until Bekah’s stomach was empty and she’s laid back against the pillows, exhausted. Indiana followed the motions, got up and walked to the bathroom, dumped the contents down the toilet and flushed it, left the plastic basin on the floor for the nurses to get later and washed her hands. By the time she made it back to the side of the bed, Bekah’s eyes were closed.

There were three marked stages of a chemo session with Bekah: the ‘this doesn’t affect me’ phase, the puke phase, and finally, the sleep phase, which seemed to be fast approaching. Even with her eyes closed she felt Indiana join her at her bedside, and she sighed in defeat.

“What was it? I don’t wanna ask more questions.”

“Earrings.”

“That’s two things, you cheated.”

She could have argued, but you just don’t argue with a kid with cancer if you don’t have to. It’s an unspoken rule.

“You’re right. You win.”

Bekah seemed content enough with that, but her eyebrows scrunched up again like they always did when she was focusing.

“Where do you get earrings in your teeth?”

“Huh?”

“Earrings in teeth… there was a guy… yesterday… earrings.”

Indiana just held her hand as she rambled, drifting off as she turned her head into her pillow. Not that she knew personally, but she’d never seen anyone be comfortable during a chemo treatment. But there was a peace that took over when their body decided that it was too much to handle in the realm of consciousness and they drifted off into their dreams.

So she was happy to look at the bed after she picked up her backpack and see that Bekah’s was asleep. She closed the door on her way out, moved to the nurse’s desk to sign out like she always did. The nurses always smiled at her, sitting back there in their colorful scrubs and big headbands. This time, it was Valentina who beamed up at her.

“Indiana, honey, how’s school going?”

“It’s going.” It’s killing me. “Just one semester left to go!”

“Don’t you overwork yourself now, we need you around here,” she threw a wink with her long lashes, opening her mouth to say something else before her phone rang. “You have a good one honey, we’ll see you next week.” Valentina picked it up, another call to another room for another sick kid.

 With as many times as Indiana had made the walk, she was pretty sure she could do it with her eyes closed. Straight, past the forest murals, press the button on the left to open the doors. Then it was the ocean hallway on the left- the blues were peaceful, little sea turtles and fish floating on the walls. At the end, by the jellyfish, was the last door of the pediatric wing. Somehow, it always felt colder past that point, inside the ‘real hospital’. The nurse’s scrubs were plain blue there, the walls taupe and bland with paintings of trees and lakes instead of Winnie the Pooh and Dory. Indiana’s shoes squeaked against the polished floor on her way to the elevator, picking up her pace. She didn’t like this part. It was too familiar, too many memories of walking down the same hallway for much different reasons. Past that it was down two floors, out and to the right to get to the front doors.

As soon as she walked out into the New York city street, it was a breath of fresh air; if you could ever consider city air fresh. Still, she always preferred the smell of exhaust and cigarettes over the bleach that stung her nose inside the hospital. And if she sniffed hard enough and the wind was right, she swore she could smell Jet’s Coffee all the way from the small store that resided three blocks down the road. 

Want anything from Jet’s? She texted Charlie, hoping for a quick response from her sister as she hurried down the sidewalk, pulling her shirt sleeves down over her hands in a bid to ward off the brisk late September air.

Nah, Devin’s making dinner. Should be done by the time you get here. 

Also, where tf is your strainer?

Bottom cabinet by the oven, she answered, shaking her head.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her sister. She did, with her whole heart. The same went for her sweet almost-brother-in-law Devin- they were both supportive pillars in her life, always there with a listening ear, a warm hug, or life advice.

But god damn did she miss having her apartment to herself sometimes. The peace that came over her when she walked into her cozy apartment, saw the rest of Chelsea through the high windows, her view over the river? Unmatched. It was still there - the fog over the river in the cool autumn mornings, the bustling streets of people wrapped up in their coats - but now, her sister was there too, catching her at the door with the latest story of the day before she could even let out a breath. Charlie could never understand how her younger sister wanted to live alone in college, wanted a place to herself ever since she even knew it was an option. Indiana was the opposite of her in a lot of ways- the older of the two was a social butterfly of sorts who always surrounded herself with people, with loud voices and louder personalities that could keep up with her. She was wild - dropped out of college after her first semester, spent her last dime on a camera so she could grow a photography business from the ground up.

Their mom always said that Indiana was the calm to Charlie’s storm, her little angel who hardly ever cried, who just fit into the family like a perfect final puzzle piece, completing the picture. The puzzle was long forgotten now, disassembled in a box in the attic somewhere collecting dust over the last five years. She didn’t have to wonder if it would make her mom sad - she knew that it would be devastating for her if she were still there to see what had become of the Cross clan.

“There she is, the myth, the legend, thee Indiana Jamie Cross!” 

Caught up in her mind, Indiana didn’t even realize that her autopilot route home had taken her all the way into the door of Jet’s, and she found herself in the familiar lobby when she came to. The walls were charcoal gray, with the delicate little single-line white flowers painted on them that she remembered them putting up a few years ago, back when she worked there. Her old manager, Patrick, beamed at her from behind the counter, wide smile framed out by his ever growing hair.

“What’s she gonna get today, wait don’t tell me, don’t tell me. Today is a… caramel macchiato with one less pump of vanilla? Hot?” He mused, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Oatmilk, then yes, you got it.”

“Of course I was gonna give you oatmilk, what do I look like, an amateur?” He scoffed, shaking his head as she went to reach for her wallet. “It’s on the house today.”

“You can’t give me my coffee on the house every time Patrick, it’s bad for business.” 

“It’s my business, so shush and go wait at the end of the bar like a good customer,” he rolled his eyes, sending the scribbled cup down the line. She rolled her eyes and dropped a few one’s in the tip jar before she went over to her favorite chair, the big blue one by the windows where she could people watch while she waited. She always wondered what people did in small towns while they waited for things, without the bustling streets outside full of people in their own little worlds. 

Her phone buzzed in her lap. Marty. 

Hey girlie, are you busy tomorrow? We’ve got a new orientee who needs the run down, and nobody does it better than you! 

Marty’s speciality was buttering people up. Which explained why Buddies had over 200 volunteers like Indiana - with Marty in charge, it was hard to say no, even if she had planned on spending a chilled out day tomorrow with her sister and Devin.

Fine by me, just let me know what time

Awesome. He didn’t give me a specific time so I’ll just give him your number if you’re good with that.

She sent back a thumbs up as her name was called at the counter, got her coffee and headed out the door.  It was another block to get to her apartment, and when she got there the elevator ride up to the 18th floor was almost as long as the walk. She didn’t mind though. It was her own little welcome home ritual that she’d grown fond of over the last few years of living there. 

As she predicted earlier, when she opened the door, her usually peaceful space was in a bit of chaos. There were four bowls out on the counter, measuring cups everywhere, two pans out in addition to whatever smelled so good in the oven.

“Don’t start Indy, I’m gonna clean it, I promise.” Charlie appeared around the corner, already on the defense of the look she knew she was going to get. It felt a lot like Indiana was the older sister despite the three years that Charlie had on her. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Indiana mumbled under her breath, clearing a small spot on the counter and hopping up.

“It’s all in your face,” Devin teased from in front of the oven. “Scootch, unless you want me to burn you with this casserole dish.” 

She grumbled and hopped down from her much too temporary spot so that he could open the oven, deciding it was probably best to leave the kitchen until everything was done. 

Her kitchen was the only ‘small’ part of her apartment. The rest was plenty big, and she was proud of all she had done over the years to make it her own. The living room was cozy, with a dark gray couch and a reasonable (Charlie would say excessive) amount of decorative pillows and blankets. The shelves on the wall had a few house plants - fake ones, of course, and picture frames that had moved with her each time she called a new place home. The white frame that contained an old picture of her and Charlie as babies, white-blonde hair wispy as they played on the swings in their backyard. The most recent addition was the rose gold frame, a picture of her, Devin and Charlie at their engagement last July in Zion National Park - she could practically feel the heat of the sun every time she looked at it. The last frame stood alone on the smaller shelf, a wooden frame with a small heart carved in the corner. Inside, a black and white picture of her and her mom. She was about one in it, in a little crewneck sweatshirt and tennis shoes, holding onto her mom’s hands as she walked, both of them beaming. She’d been told by so many people over the years that she had “Nicole’s smile”, and she tried her hardest to not cry nowadays if anyone ever mentioned it. 

“You know, our parents weren’t glassmakers, I can’t see through you,” Charlie grumbled from her spot on the couch, gesturing to the TV that her sister was blocking.

“You know, this is my house, you could just leave,” she countered, offering her fakest of smiles.

“You know, Dad pays the rent so it’s not technically yours.”

“Alright, dinner is ready, dinner is ready,” Devin called out, knowing that Charlie had already stepped one toe over the line, desperately trying to keep her from throwing herself fully over the edge.

Charlie popped up to her feet, unfazed by the glare that followed her all the way to the island as she went on to scoop out her pasta. 

Indiana didn’t have the energy to even think about her dad, much less talk about him. Kenneth Cross was a good father when she was little. He was attentive, taught her how to play basketball, how to ride her bike without training wheels. On a paper list, he checked off most of the dad boxes. And then his wife died, and he decided the time was nigh to abandon ship with very little regard for his 16 and 19 year old daughters. But if you asked him, he’d be sure to let you know that he took very good care of his kids, even put up his youngest in a nice New York apartment so she could go to school and not have to work a job. Taking care of things meant throwing money at them, whether it was at work or at home. His best, and only, sign of affection was the direct deposit that hit Indiana’s bank account on the 31st of every month. 

Needless to say, he was a sensitive subject.

She bit back the words she really wanted to spit out and made her way into the kitchen, grabbing her bowl a bit more aggressively than she needed to. As soon as she found her spot back on the counter she stabbed into the soft noodles and shoved them in her mouth, proceeding to burn the shit out of her tongue. 

Lovely.

Devin made small talk as best he could around the awkward tension - he was an only child, and anytime the two sisters fought he tried to fill in the void with anything he could. It always baffled him how the two of them could be pissed one moment, and then back to normal a few seconds later.

“Wanna go shopping tomorrow? And don’t say you have school shit, it’s a Sunday.” Charlie asked.

“A, I always have school shit, and B, I can’t anyways, I’ve got an orientation to do for Buddies.” 

“There’s no way you actually have that much school work to do, I think you’re just trying to avoid us,” she countered. 

“CJ she’s gonna be a doctor, that shit ain’t easy,” Devin piped up, eager to boost his almost sister-in-law up. Indy tried to ignore the little pang of jealousy she always felt when he called her sister that. Charlie Jo. CJ. She’d had her own fair share of nicknames over the years, shortened little versions of her name that everyone liked to use. But Devin was the only one who was allowed to call Charlie CJ, and there was something about the intimacy of it that had Indiana wishing someone was there to give her a cute nickname, just for them.

She held out until Charlie started in on the dishes that she promised to do and then she was headed to her room, social battery depleted. Despite her sister’s doubts, she did always have some form of school work that she could be working on, slowly chipping away at the constant stream of assignments and notes.  She liked to break it down into sections, tackling a certain class each night of the week. Saturdays were her ‘easy’ nights, reserved for reviewing her medical terminology notes and quizzing herself on new terms.

As nerdy as it seemed to anyone else, she actually found it fun. 10 year old her would have thought it was the coolest thing that she actually knew what choleodechojunostomy meant, though she was pretty sure she was never going to actually need to know. 

She was halfway through the abbreviations portion, stuck on the ‘G’ of esophagogastroduodenoscopy when her phone buzzed against her leg. She expected to see a text from Charlie asking her to join in on whatever movie they were watching in the living room, but instead she was met with a new number and an unfamiliar area code - 818. 

Probably spam. She left it alone, moving back to her cards, flipping between as she mumbled them quietly to herself.

“PRN. Pro re nata.”

Buzz

“EEG. Electroencephalography. TIA”

Buzz

“TIA. Transient-”

Buzz

“Jesus,” she huffed, grabbing her phone and swiping it open to her texts, all from that same 818 number.

Hey, Marty gave me your number, I’m your new orientee :)

My name is Grayson btw, probably should have started with that 

She told me to figure out a time with you but I’m p flexible so just let me know

And idk how to get to the pediatric part of the hosp so if you could meet me somewhere else and show me how to get there that would be awesome

Why he couldn’t have sent it all in one text she had no idea, but at least he was nice. She typed back quickly.

Hey! I’m Indiana. We can meet by the front doors if that’s easier, how about 9:30?

She didn’t even have time to pick up her next flashcard before the typing bubble popped back up.

Early riser, I like it. 9:30 is chill, I’ll see you then. Have a good night :)

You too :), she answered, quickly saving his contact as ‘Grayson’ before putting her phone back down on her comforter and diving back into her flashcards. She had 200 more to get through by the end of the night, and all she really wanted to do was get under her covers and go to sleep. By the time she reached the end of the stack, the definitions were just as hard to understand as their latin based counterparts. As soon as she flipped over arthralgia to reveal joint pain, she was moving the pile to her desk, pulling on a t-shirt and curling up in bed.

..............................................................................................................................

Indiana had never been a breakfast eater. She was always too eager to get to school, occasionally running out the door with a granola bar in hand at most at her mom’s request. The trend continued as she got older, though now she used her morning coffee as sustenance for the first few hours of the day. Which was why she found herself walking right back through the glass doors of Jet’s again, a mere 12 hours after her last visit. It smelled like fresh beans and vanilla soy as soon as she made in over the threshold - a comforting smell, familiar and warm. Patrick beamed at her from behind the espresso bar. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a day off.

“I’m paying today, no arguing,” she called out, giving him a serious look until he mouthed ‘fine’ at her over the bar. Satisfied, she pulled out her phone, surprised to see a text. Grayson.

I’m by the front doors on the left. I know im early so no rush :)

She checked the time at the top of her phone. 9:10.

I’m getting coffee and then I’ll be there

Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, contemplating. Was it weird to buy coffee for someone you’d never met? She sent another text anyway.

Want anything?

The bubbles popped back up as she stepped up in line.

Biggest cup of the strongest stuff they’ve got please. I’ll shoot you a Venmo for it

She liked his response and slid her phone back in her pocket before she stepped up to the counter. The barista was a new face, someone that had been hired after she had left.

“What can I get started for you?”

“Can I do a 16 ounce vanilla oat milk latte and a 20 ounce dark roast please?”

“Absolutely, that’ll be-”

“Give her the drip for free,” Patrick interjected. “We don’t charge past employees for drip coffee.”

The barista looked a bit flustered but took the dark roast off anyways, quickly spouting off the total and taking the cash that Indiana handed her. She turned around and poured the dark roast, passing it over with a smile. An older man was sitting in the blue chair when Indiana made her way to the other end of the store, so she settled by the bar instead, watching Patrick pump syrup and steam milk in a bit of a sequenced dance. She missed being behind the bar sometimes, but not enough to justify going back and getting talked down to by shitty customers. 

He finished her latte in record time, only having a spare moment to blow her a kiss before he was right back to the next drink. She didn’t mind - the thought of Grayson waiting on her made her nervous. She tried to remind herself that she wasn’t running late. It wasn’t her fault that he liked to show up twenty minutes early to things and she only liked to show up ten minutes early. Ten minutes was reasonable and showed dedication - twenty was a bit excessive. 

The cups kept her hands warm for the three blocks to the hospital, her pace a bit quicker than usual. She kept her eyes peeled for someone who looked like a Grayson once she made it. A tall, lanky man passed by her, headed towards the doors, but he didn’t seem like he was looking for anyone. She remembered the text. Front doors, to the left.

Sure enough, there was someone sitting alone.

He took up about half of the bench, his shoulders broad under a charcoal gray sweater that went well with the olive green of his pants. He looked well put together - a bit intimidating, but nice enough to send someone a have a good night text. He looked like he could be a Grayson. He must have felt her watching him, because he lifted his eyes from his phone and looked directly at her, taking in the two coffee cups in her hands with a smile.

“Indiana?”

His voice was deep, a bit commanding. It made her hesitate for some reason, panic just barely. “Uh yeah, that’s me.” Stupid.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Grayson.”

[softbiker]

Bucky Barnes Oneshot

Warnings: 18+ only - smut (fingering), some cursing

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: I can’t believe I wrote 3.6k words of what basically amounts to Netflix and fingering, but this is what Bucky Barnes does to people (you’re welcome Kris). Anyways, here is my first-ever smut - in which Bucky’s girl has a bad day at work and he does his best to make the night a good one. Bonus points if you can guess which show they’re watching ;) As always, feedback is appreciated! Since I’ve never written smut, please tell me if it’s bad lol. Thanks for reading!

A fuzzy vibration in his pocket alerts him to a text. 

Kill me. 

Unable to hold back a snort, he bites his lip and swipes at the screen. His thumbs flutter over the keyboard. 

No can do, babydoll. Not an assassin anymore, remember?

Merely a few seconds pass, little dots floating in the conversation bubble, before her reply buzzes back.

I’m sure you’ve retained some of your skills…or maybe I should ask Natasha?

Please, I taught Nat everything she knows. And I’d still take her out before I’d let her kill you - your butt is too cute. 

So is yours, Handsome ;)

The muscles in his cheeks hurt from the silly grin stretching up the corners of his mouth, but he can’t help himself with her, it’s just too easy. Too fun. 

Well, if you’re NOT going to put me out of my misery…then you at least owe me a good night tonight. 

Done and done. The whole team knows - and teases him frequently - that he spoils her, worships her, bends over backwards at her every request. It’s not his fault; she wrapped him around her finger the day they met, and it’s such a sweet place to be, he’s never bothered untangling himself. And she always gives as good as she gets, every time. 

What did you have in mind, sweetheart?

Pizza and Netflix. Preferably with your hand down my pants. 

Oh and there it is - that lovely little tingle down his spine, warmth in his belly, ever-present between them. His funny girl, always teasing. Teeth tug at his bottom lip as he deliberates over his response, thumbs poised over the screen.

It’s a date. 

He tacks on that little emoji with the winking kiss face and hits send. Glances at his watch - a little past 3 in the afternoon; she’ll be off work at 5, probably straight out the door if she’s having such a bad day, but if the traffic is bad or she gets stuck at her desk, it’ll probably be closer to 6 when she gets home. 

Slipping his phone in his back pocket, he looks around at the apartment, a quick survey of the last 5 days’ damage - a few dishes in the sink and on the stove, dirty socks peeled off in the hallway, a basket of clean clothes waiting to be folded. He nods to himself, prioritizes his task list, and tackles the kitchen first. After loading the dishwasher, he goes back to the bedroom, digging in the side pocket of his backpack for his headphones; he slips them in and turns on the next episode of that conspiracy theory podcast he’s become obsessed with (not that he’ll admit it, but she thinks it’s hysterical) and gets back to work, giving their home as deep a clean as he can in the couple of hours he has. On an afterthought, he lights a couple of scented candles - her favorites, the ones that smell like roasting marshmallows - throughout the place, letting the rooms fill with a warm scent. 

A few minutes past 5, he stands in the living room, hands on his hips, and surveys his work, feeling pretty pleased with himself. Their home looks and smells deliciously clean and inviting, a warm embrace for her to fall into when she walks in the door. He glances at his watch and decides he should go ahead and order the pizza, and as he swipes at the app on his phone, he double checks the champagne chilling in the fridge. Check and check. 

Perfect. He smiles to himself, the smirk turning a bit wicked as he walks down the hall to light candles in the bedroom. 

A perfect night for his perfect girl. 

 **********                                                  

Her feet drag as she climbs the stairs up to their apartment, cursing herself all the way for moving into a building with no elevator. As if she weren’t tired enough from the absolutely hellish day she just had - even thinking about work has her massaging her temples with a groan. And she absolutely, positively, has to get new shoes for work, her feet hurt so fucking bad it’s insane-

Nope. Nope! Completely done, she stops on the second flight of stairs with a huff, removing her heels one at a time and shoving them into her work bag. Files and various loose papers wrinkle in the process, but she doesn’t care at all; so what if the little blue fleck of gum on the bottom of her pumps gets stuck on the official copy of a contract? At this point, she’s practically daring someone to say something about it. Biting someone else’s head off for a change would be just delightful. 

She continues up that flight of stairs and the next, barefoot, her bag heavy and awkward on her right shoulder with the addition of her shoes, toes pressing into the worn and dated green carpet covering the steps. In her head, she’s counting them, counting down - 10 steps to Bucky, 9 steps, 8 steps, 7, 6…

When she unlocks the door and pushes it open, he’s waiting there, sweet smile curling up his soft lips. Of course, he must have heard her coming up the stairs - and she sags in relief, practically falling into his arms without even closing the door. He chuckles, tugging her closer while shuffling their positions in the hallway so that he - ever responsible and paranoid - can close and deadbolt their door. 

“Hi,” she mumbles into his chest. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, lips against her temple. “Rough day?” 

She groans, shaking her head with her face still pressed against him. 

“You’ve got no idea, Buck, it was just the worst-”

“Shh, shh,” he hushes her, rubbing her back with firm strokes. “You don’t have to talk about it. You can just relax, honey. I’m here.”

A heavy sigh puffs against his shirt, the heat of her breath felt through the fabric, and her shoulders drop a little further, the tension slowly melting as he softly sways her from side to side. They stand like that for a while, just breathing each other in, letting go of the day, coming home to each other. Though she’s never said it aloud, she lives for moments like this, when there’s nothing that matters outside the circle of his arms. Nothing else at all. 

The insistent growl of her stomach interrupts them - loud and gurgling, and he chuckles in spite of himself. He pulls back a bit from their embrace, looking down with a fond smirk tilting up his mouth. 

“Hungry?”

“Starving, Buck,” she pouts, a little dramatic, a playful whine coloring her tone. “Did you make dinner?” 

“Even better.” A light press of his lips to the tip of her nose, his voice continuing in a whisper. “I ordered out.”

A soft gasp. 

“Gusano’s?” Her eyes are sparkling and he wonders if she gets as excited for him as she does for pizza. 

“Mhm. Got all the toppings you like, too.” 

Touched, and sensitive from such a long day, her smile is so big it makes her tired eyes tear up just a bit. Sometimes, it just hits her - how lucky she is, how one-in-a-million her sweet super-soldier boyfriend manages to be every single day. It swells her heart full to bursting every time.

He doesn’t say anything else, just kisses her forehead and turns, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders and steering her to the bedroom. 

“C’mon, babydoll - you go change,” he urges gently, stroking her arm. “Get in your comfy clothes, take your makeup off, all that jazz - I’ll grab the pizza and then we’ll see what we wanna watch, yeah?”

Her answering sigh is dreamy as she drops her head back to his shoulder. 

“Where have you been all my life, Bucky Barnes?” 

“Mm. Mostly in cryogenic storage,” he whispers, eyebrows wiggling as he leans in for a kiss. With a roll of her eyes she dodges his lips, letting them land on the side of her head as she smacks his chest and walks off to the bedroom. Chuckling, he lands a playful swat on her ass before skipping to the kitchen. 

What a man, she thinks, shaking her head as she digs through her dresser for a pair of soft college sweatpants. One-in-a-million.

  **********                                                   

Pizza box on the edge of the bed, bottle of champagne on the left nightstand. She’s settled between his legs, feeling full and pleasantly soft from the bubbly drink in her hand. 

“We’re gonna keep watching this, right?” she hums as the credits roll on the first episode, button in the bottom corner counting down until the next one plays. 

“Sure - as long as you don’t spend the whole night ogling that guy’s ass,” he huffs, pinching her hip. 

“Hey! It’s not my fault he’s got a great ass - but I never said it was better than yours,” she offers, sweet and apologetic, reaching up to pat his cheek. Even with her head only half turned, she can see the pouty scowl on his face, her hardened assassin looking more like a frustrated two-year-old. Adorable. What a man. 

“Whatever,” he grumbles, shifting a little on the bed and tightening his arms around her, as though that might keep his girl in his lap rather than jumping through the screen and into the arms of the wig-wearing hunk whose strapping biceps currently have her attention. 

The second episode plays, she relaxes a little further, finishing her second glass of bubbly. When he murmurs in her ear, she lets him take the glass and set it on the nightstand, out of the way. He shifts forward and grabs the pizza box, too, moving it to the other nightstand - both of them have eaten their fill and all that’s left in the box is a scrap of crust, nibbled all the way up till there’s nothing left but seasoned bread. 

There’s a little shifting, a little wiggling, as he settles them both back against the headboard. In true “Princess and the Pea” fashion, Bucky’s got no less than three pillows fluffed behind his back, cushioning him against the hard wooden headboard. When he’s finished shuffling around, he strokes her sides for a moment, pulling her back flush against him and wraps his arms around her waist, sighing in contentment. 

“Comfortable?” she giggles. His only reply is a low hum and a squeeze of his arms. 

They go back to watching episode two, trying to follow the separate timelines and magical rules that have yet to be explained in the story world. She’s got her eyebrows drawn together, puzzling out where the hunchbacked mage might fit in to all of this; while the women on screen test their magic powers, she feels warm lips travel to her neck. 

At first, she tries to ignore him, intent on watching the show; but the warm, wet kisses trailing up and down the side of her neck have her tilting her head, silently asking for more…

“Watch your show, baby,” he whispers, husky voice sending a delicate shiver down her spine. The tip of his tongue traces over the shell of her ear. “Don’t want you to miss your man.” 

She intends to make a derisive snort, but it comes out as more of a hiccuped gasp when one of his hands slips just under the hem of her t-shirt, fingers spider-walking up the skin of her stomach. Her mouth is dry when she tries to swallow and bring her hazy eyes back to the TV. 

It works for a few moments, maybe minutes, as he softly strokes the warm skin of her belly, his other hand tracing the waistband of her sweats. His mouth never leaves her neck and shoulders, switching from one side to the other, gently letting his teeth scrape over her sweet spot and her earlobe. All tender, unhurried caresses, and she sinks further into him, into the warmth of them both in their room, their world. 

She chokes on her gasp when his hand slides up to cup her breast. 

“You still watching, honey?” he hums, a smile pressed against her jaw. 

“Uh-huh,” she manages when his finger circles her nipple. 

“Good.” He nuzzles her cheek a little bit, stubble scratching along her smooth skin as his hand continues to massage her breast - his fingers still soft, barely squeezing, just enough to tease. 

His other hand finally wiggles past her waistband - but stops at the seam of her underwear, just a few inches in. She’s watching, she is, she is; her eyes are on the screen, on the very handsome monster hunter with a jaw that could cut glass, her hand gripping Bucky’s thigh. She’s absolutely paying attention to the show, and not at all frustrated with the light strokes of his fingers across her hips and mound, still outside of her panties. Fingers stretch a little further, so he’s massaging her inner thigh in time with the squeezes to her breast. It’s getting a little hot in here - maybe she shouldn’t have worn such thick sweats and fuzzy socks…

This time, she can’t help herself as she digs her nails in his thigh, his index finger lightly tracing her folds over her underwear. It almost tickles. She almost whines. Bites her lip instead to hold it back, her breath hitching in her chest. 

“Bucky,” she huffs. 

“Hm?” He licks her neck. 

“Are you going to do something?” It comes out weaker than she meant it to, more desperate than demanding. 

“I thought you wanted to watch your show?” he suggests, feigning innocence. “Don’t you wanna watch Netflix with my hand down your pants? You can have both, honey.” 

Her thighs twitch when his fingers press a little firmer, just an ounce more pressure - still barely anything, still not enough. She does whine this time, trying to wiggle her hips closer to his hand. 

“Go on, admire his ass some more, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “I know you think it’s cute.” 

The hand in her shirt switches to the other breast and tweaks her nipple, just on the pleasant side of painful. She licks her lips, blinking to regain focus on the screen, feeling way too hot. Bucky seems unbothered, though, continuing his ministrations and ignoring the TV altogether. 

Her teeth sink into her lower lip when his hand slides around to grab a handful of her ass, gripping tight then playfully popping the seam of her panties with his finger. 

“You’ve got a pretty cute ass, too,” he teases, his hand gliding back to its place between her thighs.��

She huffs again, unable to stop herself from arching into the hand that’s attentively playing with her breasts. Alright then. Two can play at this game - she releases her death grip from one of his thighs and slides her hand back, just behind her, letting her nails drag over the prominent bulge in his sweats. 

He hisses through his teeth, releasing her breast to grab her wrist. His other hand slips out of her pants to snatch her hand that remains clasped to his thigh

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he nips at her shoulder. With a firm grip, he moves her hands up behind his neck, letting her fingers tangle in the sweaty strands at his nape. “You keep those right here and enjoy your show, alright? I ain’t done with you yet.”

Satisfied that she would stay put, he lets his hands glide back down - over the length of her arms and down her sides, before gripping the hem of her shirt and hiking it up above her breasts, both hands immediately giving them a firm squeeze. Lower lip trapped between her teeth, she barely holds back the low moan in her throat and fights to refocus her eyes on the screen again, a herculean task with his fingers plucking at her nipples like that. 

The heat between her legs continues to build, despite both his hands occupied with her chest, and she can’t help but lift her hips a little, a blind, desperate search for friction, attention, anything. A particularly hard tweak of her nipples had her whining loud, a jolt of electricity going straight between her thighs. She tries to rub her thighs together to get some relief, but Bucky’s too quick - he hooks his own feet on the inside of her ankles and keeps both their legs spread open wide. 

She moans his name, heady and desperate, arching into his hands. 

“S’alright, I gotcha,” he hushes her, his lips still fastened to her neck. Always wants to take care of his girl. He’ll always give her what she wants…eventually.

Achingly slow, he drags a hand down from her breasts, tracing over her stomach and into her sweats again. He snaps the waistband of her underwear again - once, twice, what an asshole - before sliding down further to rub her core through her panties. Her breath hitches at the feel, the friction, her thigh muscles tightening as he uses his knuckles to firmly stroke her up and down. Wetness pools in her underwear, more and more as he rubs little circles around her clit with his thumb. 

“Can feel you gettin’ so wet, honey,” he rasps, breath hot on her ear. “This all for me? Huh?”

All she can give is a nod and an “uh huh” as his fingers press her clit and pinch her nipple at the same time. A tiny whine escapes her lips, sweat breaking out along her back where they’re pressed together, his erection impossible to ignore as she wiggles against him. 

Panties soaked now, ruined, when he finally, finally slips inside, cupping her pussy with his warm hand. With his thumb and pinky, he parts her swollen folds and traces his index and middle fingers up her slit.

“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked, sweetheart,” he moans, his fingers running through her folds, circling her entrance before bringing the wetness back up to rub her clit. His fingers spread her a little further, tugging back the hood, and he draws firm circles around her bud, just the way he knows she likes. 

“Oh, oh fuck, Bucky-” she pants and whines, hips rolling into his hand, his other fingers still working over her breasts. Her head feels light, almost dizzy, and a tight feeling grips her low in her belly, her toes starting to curl and twitch. Fingers yank hard at his silky soft hair, the strands wrapped in her fists. “Bucky, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg me, honey - don’t gotta beg for anything,” he coos against her sweaty cheek. With his hand now soaked, he slips two fingers inside, curling them against her upper wall into that spot that makes her-

“Oh my god, oh god, right there-”

“I know, baby, I know.”

His hands working her over like an instrument, there’s no more pretense of even glancing at the TV screen - her eyes flutter as he rhythmically strokes her higher, gushing wet sounds as he drives his fingers in and out, dragging the heel of his palm against her clit. All the while, his other hand plucks and circles her nipples, palms her breasts, his tongue and teeth attached to the sensitive little place on her neck. Her mouth hangs open, gasps and moans that sound vaguely like his name, fingernails raking down his scalp and the back of his neck.

“Come on, honey, come for me - come for me.” He pulls his fingers from her and goes back to circling her clit at a frenetic pace.

It’s enough - the coil in her belly snaps and she arches back with a cry, her legs shaking and hips rocking up against his fingers, head falling back against his shoulder. His fingers don’t stop as he works her through it, holding on to her high, his lips pressed against her temple as he murmurs sweet words into her skin. 

“Good girl, oh good girl - there’s my sweet girl, huh?” He presses little kisses down her temple to her cheekbone, following the path of the sweet-tasting sweat beading on her forehead. 

He lets his fingers slow against her, and finally removes them when she starts to twitch away from him, sensitive and sated. Letting his hand fall from her breasts to her stomach, he rubs softly over her skin, feeling her ribs expand under his palm as she catches her breath. His other fingers go straight to his mouth, sucking obscenely, not letting a drop of her wetness go to waste. She peels an eye open at his appreciative groan, the corner of her mouth tilting up in a tired smile. 

“You perv,” she laughs, her voice low, content. She pats his cheek with one hand at the indignant look on his face, but he merely shrugs and dips his finger back down for a second helping, licking off his fingers with a loud smack. 

“Can’t help it. You’re too damn sweet,” he grins, smug and lusty, loving the way she’s still a bit breathless and soft in his arms. 

She rolls her eyes and catches a glimpse of the TV screen, where the credits are rolling on their show. 

“Whoops…I think I barely caught any of that,” she giggles, slapping his leg. “Which would be your fault, by the way.” 

“Eh, we can just rewatch it if you want to-”

“Later,” she interrupts, sitting forward and turning around on the bed. Her limbs still feel shaky from her orgasm, but she plants her palms on his chest and straddles his lap, landing firmly on his still straining erection. Bucky moans low and grips her hips, his eyes blown dark with need. She leans in close, her lips brushing lightly over his.

“I think it’s your turn,” she whispers, tongue tracing his lower lip. He dives in with a growl, devouring her mouth.

Netflix entirely forgotten. 

[citrussdance]

Cardfight!! Vanguard Overdress Unit Lore: 001 “Trickstar”

In space? or simply above the planet’s surface? Amidst that faint light, change was born.

The thin and weak “wave” became a powerful “movement” that made “that space” tremble. In the very center of that trembling “space”, “it” was the first to be born.

A head, torso, two arms and legs- as it emerged, “it” slowly took on the shape of something humanoid. Eyes, a nose, and finally, a mouth appeared, creating the shape of a smile.

From the moment “it” was born, it was filled with joy.

Whispered prayers and the wishes that preceded them, carried on the “wave” like a rushing torrent, warmly embraced its spirit and body; and ever since “it” gained sentience, certain words repeatedly echoed in its head; a careful arrangement of sounds, words that proved its own existence.

Finally, an image came into its newborn heart.

Sparkling with overwhelming brightness, a white light invited “it” to the heart of this planet’s greatest nation.

-

As far as one can see, campfires as small as ants dot the wasteland, about to go out.

“Reiyu, Zonne, Rona!” Rino calls softly, in order to not disturb the pre-dawn mood. Surrounding the fire and wrapped in blankets side-by-side, the other three give no response. They sleep deeply.

“I’ll leave them be; they walked a lot yesterday, after all.”

The four girls’ rule is that the one who could stay awake would take watch, but Rino had kept watch throughout the night by herself.

Throwing a small twig onto the fire, Rino hugs her knees.

To the side, a large egg, about the size of a young child, sleeps. To say it is “sleeping” is not a figure of speech- this hatching egg has feet and a tail, and within its body, encased in its shell, there are two (closed) eyes. This egg is called the “Sunrise Egg”.

“Fuee~ I can’t eat any more!” 

Rino laughs quietly at the unwitting Rona’s sleep talk. Rona is the youngest, and the spoiled child of the group. However, her honest dances have saved the group’s mood countless times since this journey began.

Rino’s stomach rumbles quietly.

Everyone is hungry. They chose to set out on this journey by themselves, without relying on anyone’s kindness, but even the Blaze Maidens, who undergo strict training for their roles, are in truth struggling to endure the pressures of the journey.

-- The Blaze Maidens.

The world’s oldest temple, the “Red Temple of Dawn”, lies ten days’ walk from the backwoods of the Dragonia Mountain Range in the center of the Dragon Empire. The Blaze Maidens’ role is to protect and watch over a treasure that can only be found there. After dedicating their lives to this faith, the maidens live out their lives at the temple, only rarely seeing the outside world. Just ten days ago, Rino, Reiyu, Zonne, and Rona would never have dreamed of leaving the Red Temple of Dawn.

-

“We can’t go on like this. Let’s give our thanks to this land, and leave soon.” The oldest of the party, Reiyu, had said that two days ago.

At those words, Rino, who had been fondly watching Zonne eat chicken and Rona stuff her face with sweets, had frozen.

In the first village they had stayed in, the Blaze Maidens had been received warmly. The Dragon Empire is a militaristic country, ruled by a dragonic emperor. However, it is also a civilized country that follows the tradition of the world’s oldest country, Dragonia; many of its people are religious, and priests and shrine maidens are revered. So, when the Blaze Maidens and the walking egg descended from the northern mountain, the villagers, poor though they were, had gladly broken into their winter stocks and showed them the best of hospitality. In the blink of an eye, food and presents had been heaped upon them. 

Only Reiyu had not been happy. “Remember what the priest said. We, along with Rino and the Sunrise Egg, were ordered to seek “the truth of this world” and find hope for the future to bestow upon the people. All of these things gathered here are the villagers’ very lifeline until spring. We can’t let ourselves be spoiled by their kindness.”

The normally cheerful Zonne and honest Rona, and even the reasonable Rino had become somber. They are each highly capable Blaze Maidens, who the priest had trusted to journey to the outside world. However, while they are devout followers, they are also normal girls. Having warm food to fill an empty belly, a hot bath to soothe the weariness of travel, and a soft place to sleep instead of the hard ground. . . how can one blame them for being tempted by such things? Reiyu had simply been a little more of an adult than the other three.

That night, when the village was sleeping, the four girls had stolen away in secret, leaving only a polite thank-you letter and a blazing amulet containing a blessing. To them, the honest kindness of the first people they had met on their journey had also become their first bitter experience.

-

The eastern sky begins to lighten, faintly; dawn is approaching. As the embers die out, Rino, who has drawn closer to the egg, begins to nod off. Soon, it will be time to set off towards the world of dreams.

Then. . .

Outside the circle where the maidens gathered to sleep, a white-hooded head pokes out from the “empty dimension”. From there, it turns this way and that, surveying its surroundings. The only thing it hears is the soft breathing of the girls and the egg.

“Stay asleep, just like that. Now, it’s my playtime,” it whispers, and out pops the rest of its body.

With a white hood that extends into a cloak, the body that houses “it” is stiffer than a living being’s, being best approximated as like to a doll. In the dim light of dawn, “its” white face is the only thing visible, floating in the darkness.

“I’ll help myself to this~”

One of the gold pins holding Rino’s hair up disappears.

“And this-”

The bracelet around Reiyu’s wrist is gone.

“I’ll borrow this, too, okay?”

Three glass marbles from the pouch at Rona’s hip. These strangely shaped beads are normally used to tell the future, but when the girls are bored, they serve as toys, as well.

“Oops- this one’s pretty important, hm?”

One of Zonne’s beloved giant folding fans.

Finally, “it” turns to the egg, and puts a hand on its hip, thinking. “Hmm. . . I want to play a trick on you, too, but you have nothing to steal, huh? Boring.”

“You won’t be able to steal anything at all anymore.” Zonne’s voice, trembling with anger, comes from behind “it”.

“Eh- ?”

-

Spinning this way and that, suspended from a tree, “it” cries and makes excuses. “Trickstar! I can’t believe you’d tie me up like this! Trickstar!”

“Trickstar. . . is that your name?” Rino asks.

“Probably, yes. . . since in the beginning, I only knew that word.”

“You. . . I thought it was weird that the marbles kept disappearing!”

“Oh! Those, those are pretty! I love them. Everyone looks like they’re having so much fun, playing with them!” Trickstar perks up.

“Oi, where’s your shame? Your remorse?!” Zonne, who had been pretending to sleep until then, had been able to capture Trickstar in the blink of an eye- as expected of a Blaze Maiden, as well as a prominent martial arts practitioner.

“I’m sorryyyy! It was only a little joke!”

“Stealing is not a joke, it is a punishable crime,” Reiyu warns in a tone as cold as ice. “In some towns and villages, it’s punished with an instant death penalty. . .”

“Eek!” Trickstar, still tied up, turns pale all the way to the tips of its fingers and trembles.

“Oh, Reiyu. It returned all the things it stole, and even apologized. . .” begins Rino.

“You’re always too soft, Rino,” replies Zonne.

“That’s a good thing, though!” Rona laughs.

“Very well. If you promise to never steal our things again, we’ll let you go. - However, I want to ask you two things, Trickstar.” Reiyu says. Behind her, in the light of sunrise, moons of various sizes, as well as a planet that colors the heavens, rise into the sky. “One. You are able to travel into the ‘empty dimension’. So, those bindings mean nothing.” “Mhmm. You’re right, Reiyu.” Trickstar slips out of the ropes as if they don’t exist at all, and poses with hands and legs outstretched. “Playing at being tied up sounded interesting, so I did it! This is just another prank. It was fun, right, Zonne?”

Zonne’s face twitches. At some point, Trickstar even learned their names.

“Another question. Why us?”

“Did you want our things? We’re not carrying anything valuable. . .” Rino adds.

“No, Rino. You’re very valuable and special. For some reason, when I fell to this planet Cray, I thought, ‘I have to be here.’ There are people who I’m meant to meet, and who I’m supposed to be with.”

“So, you’ve been following us for three days?”

“Ehe, so you’ve known since the beginning, Rona.”

“Wait a second. You just said that you fell, right? Are you not from this planet?” Rino asks. By the way, aliens and extraterrestrials are not very unusual to the people of Cray.

“I don’t know- I don’t remember. I mean, Rino, you guys don’t remember when you were born, right?”

“That’s true. . . Hm. This conversation is over. Go where you like, Trickstar- but don’t steal.”

“That’s just boring, Reiyu. Hey, take me with you! I’ll be useful, I promise.”

“Look, you. We’re not exactly on vacation, here.” Zonne frowns.

“I know- you’re protecting the dragon’s egg, the Sunrise Egg. Rino stands in front of everyone and prays to the egg every morning, right? Egg-kun sits back and puts its feet up, all smug. It’s really funny!”

“You saw that, too?” Rino mumbles, surprised. It had been decided at the temple that the Sunrise Egg is Rino’s egg, so she leads the prayers, too.

“Our hands are already quite full,” says Reiyu.

“Then, how about this? If you travel about half a day to the west from here, there’s a pretty rich village that’s planning to hold a festival tomorrow. There, I think you can eat and buy all the things you need without worrying. Everyone decided they want to travel on their own power, without relying on others, right?”

“Wow. . .” says Rona.

“Wait, wait. You don’t just disappear, you can teleport to faraway places, too? That’s amazing.” Zonne blinks.

“. . . Rino, you decide. This is your egg and your journey, after all.” Reiyu turns to Rino.

“Eh- ?! Ah, what should I do. . .” With the spotlight suddenly focused on her, Rino becomes flustered. Her gaze automatically turns to her egg, the Sunrise Egg.

The Sunrise Egg is already awake.

It plops over to Trickstar, and comes face to face with this strange clown.

Stare.

The Sunrise Egg stares at Trickstar.

Staaare.

The Sunrise Egg stares at Trickstar.

Staaaaaaare.

Finally, the egg headbutts Trickstar with a crash, and starts happily dancing. Trickstar dances too, drawing a circle to the rhythm. Their cheers grow, filling the wasteland campground with all the bustle of a festival. “Yahoo-!”

The four maidens look at each other.

Rino laughs and gives her answer. “Okay. Let’s bring it along, according to the egg’s guidance. May the great sun and holy dragon smile upon you.”

“May the great sun and holy dragon smile upon you.” The other three repeat the line in harmony.

And finally, the sun ascends, shining upon the lands of planet Cray. A day in the lives of the Blaze Maidens and the dragon’s egg begins.

Now that they have Trickstar, this day marks the start of a new journey.

[vannahfanfics]

Song of the Sea

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Eri, Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada

Eri jumped as her bedroom door burst open, followed by a very familiar voice announcing, “Hey, hey, stop what you’re doing, because we’re going to the beach todaaaaaayyy!” 

“The beach?” Eri said owlishly as she looked up from her tea table, where she was currently pouring imaginary tea for the myriad of stuffed animals seated around the small pink furniture. As Present Mic waltzed into her bedroom, wiggling his hips in a giddy little jig, his grin was nearly blinding. 

“That’s right, my dear! Summer is here, and your therapist thought it would be good for you to go out and get some sunshine!” he explained as he crouched down and picked up one of the ceramic cups. He shook it at her, silently demanding to be served, and Eri giggled delightedly as she used the floral-patterned teapot to distribute. Present Mic took a long, exaggerated sip of air, emerald eyes glittering playfully above the rim of the cup before he pulled it away from his lip with a loud, satisfied sigh. “Delicious! Anyway,” he said, bopping her on the nose as she continued to snicker, “How does that sound?” 

“I’ve never been to the beach before,” Eri considered, cocking her head to the side. From what she knew of the beach, it was supposed to be an enjoyable place indeed. Ever since being rescued from Overhaul’s clutches, she had been making considerable efforts to come out of her shell and do things that normal little girls did. A smile spread across her face as she imagined the rolling waves cresting on pristine white sands, tasting the salty sea breeze and feeling the sun kissing her skin. “Yeah! That sounds really fun!” she agreed with an emphatic nod. 

“Wonderful!” Present Mic trilled and clapped his hands together. “Let’s go, then!” 

“Wait, right now?” Eri squeaked in surprise as he hopped to his feet. She looked hesitantly at her array of stuffed animals. “But I haven’t finished the tea party.” It would be very rude of her to leave her guests wanting tea and snack cakes. 

“Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Present Mic tutted, smacking himself in the forehead. “How rude of me! Scoot Mr. Teddy over so I can enjoy some tea too, Eri, dear.” Eri did as he wished, cackling as the tall man wormed his way into one of the wooden chairs, his knees hunched up under his chin. He grabbed one of the chocolate cream-filled pastries and devoured it in nearly one bite, crumbs raining down from his chin. “We’ll finish this first and then go to the beach!” 

Eri nodded eagerly and then proceeded to finish serving her guest, along with the newcomer Present Mic. Eraserhead found them there half an hour later, with his friend loudly regaling Eri’s stuffed bunny rabbit with a story about their high school glory days. Eri was cackling maniacally at his gut-bustingly funny rendition of Eraserhead falling asleep on the school rooftop and getting drenched by a surprise thunderstorm. 

“And he came trudging into class, dripping wet and had to explain—” Present Mic was interrupted as Eraserhead grunted in the doorway. His head whirled on his shoulders to look at the disgruntled teacher with wide emerald eyes. “Oh, hello, Shota.” 

“I thought we were taking Eri to the beach?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, but I had to finish my tea party!” Eri explained with a gesture at her stuffed animals, which all had snack cake-colored stains over their snouts. Eraserhead regarded the myriad of toys with silent consideration before nodding understandingly. 

“Right. Of course. Are you done now?” 

“Yes, I think so.” At her confirmation, Present Mic jumped up with a triumphant yowl, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Yeeeeeeeaaaahhhh! Beach time, beach time! Oh, Shota, did you bring it? Did you bring it?” Present Mic pestered as he zoomed up to Eraserhead and tugging elatedly on his shirt. The dark-haired hero scowled and shoved him away with an irritated, “Yes, yes, now get off!” Eri blinked confusingly as Present Mic bristled with excitement in the corner, and Eraserhead procured a plastic bag to fish something out of it. “If we’re going to the beach, you need a swimsuit,” he explained simply as he handed her the clothing item. 

Eri turned it over in her hands, eyes widening. It was a beautiful one-piece; three rows of red ruffles crossed the bust area diagonally, with strings coming up to tie around the back of her neck and others crisscrossing over where her shoulder blades would be. The rest of the fabric was creamy white and patterned with apples, complete with little stems and green leaves. As she admired the cute bathing suit, Present Mic dashed over, tucking his fists under his chin as he practically vibrated with excitement. 

“Do you like it?! Oh, when we saw it, we just knew it would look super cute!” 

“Mic, that’s gross.” 

“Eh? What’s the point of having an adorable daughter without dolling her up for the world to see?!” 

“Mic, she’s not your daughter.” 

“She might as well be!” Present Mic protested, hugging Eri close. As her cheek squished into his chest, Eri smiled sweetly and looked up at him. 

“I love it! Can I go put it on?” 

“Of course, of course!” Present Mic trilled, pushing her past Eraserhead to the hallway bathroom. “And while you get ready, Shota and I will get everything ready for our super-duper awesome day at the beach! Yeeaaaaaaaaaah!” 

Eri had to giggle at his enthusiasm; she found herself thoroughly hyped for the new adventure as he shut the bathroom door behind her and dragged Eraserhead off to prepare all the necessary items. She wormed out of her clothes and slipped into the bathing suit, careful not to tangle the strings as she tied them around her neck. It took a few tries as she was too short to use the mirror, so she had to fumble underneath her silvery hair to secure the knot. Eri felt pretty accomplished when she managed to do so without asking for the adults’ help. As soon as she unlocked the door and opened it back up, Present Mic was standing there in a muscle tee and a pair of yellow shorts with rainbow music notes all over them, a towel around his neck and that same grin on his face. 

“Kyaaaaaa! Shota, isn’t she the most adorable thing ever?” he howled with delight. Eraserhead, sporting a gray tee and some plain black swim trunks, lowered his shades to inspect Eri critically. Though he lifted his sunglasses before grunting his approval, she could see some color rise to his cheeks. Present Mic scurried over to secure her hair into a set of pigtails before ushering her to the door. “We’re gonna have so much fun! Ah, wait, wait, wait,” he said as she stepped out of the door. When she looked back in bewilderment, he was whipping out his cellphone. “Say cheese! I have to show everyone how cute Eri looks on her first day at the beach!” 

Eri reflexively smiled, wincing as the camera flash momentarily blinded her. Present Mic snickered to himself as his fingers flew across the keyboard, probably posting the picture everywhere it could be seen. That is until Eraserhead booted him out the doorway, causing Present Mic to yelp and rub his bum with a pout at his friend. Eraserhead just trudged past him, carrying a beach bag full of towels and other assorted items to the car. Eri tottered along after him, pigtails swinging with each trot. As she climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in, she peered curiously into the bag; before she could get a good look, Eraserhead reached back from the driver’s seat to close it. 

“You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?” he winked. Eri slumped a little as she was playfully admonished, but a surprise did sound fun. 

She obediently refrained from peeking during the ride. It became the furthest thing from her mind anyway as they neared the shore; she sat up in the seat to stare at the expanse of blue stretching along the horizon, red eyes wide as they behold the white rolling waves and even whiter rolling dunes. Colorful umbrellas and towels dotted the landscape. Beachgoers lounged in the shade reading books and listening to portable radios, played in the wet sand moistened by the tide, or frolicked in the surf, tossing balls and playing with inflatables. Eri bounced up and down, growing so excited that a little squeal bubbled out of her throat. When she looked impatiently to the front compartment of the car, both Eraserhead and Present Mic were smiling happily at her out of the corners of their eyes. 

As soon as they parked, Eri jumped out of the car to dash to the sand. She hopped off the boardwalk into the grainy stuff, gasping as her bare feet sank into the warm grains. She wiggled her toes, appreciating the way the sand moved around her feet like fluid. She then jumped up and down with a squeal, throwing up the fine sand all around her. 

“The beach! The beach!” she chanted, turning in a circle as she stamped around. Eraserhead chuckled as he walked up behind her, carrying an umbrella and two fold-out chairs over his shoulder. 

“Having fun already, kiddo? Wait until you see the water.” 

Eri gasped, whirling around so hard she lost her balance and bumped into Eraserhead’s legs. She could hear the waves rolling beyond the dunes, crashing and frothing. She ran up the side of the dune, grunting as she sunk deep into the sand, to clamber up to the top. She immediately sucked in a breath as the water came into view and the salty breeze hit her nose; it looked ethereal, the way the water rushed in and out, spraying up sea foam as it sank into the sand. Squeals of children and pleasant conversation floated on the breeze, creating a symphony of revelry on the tune of the ocean. 

“Wowwww…” she breathed exultantly, looking up at Eraserhead and Present Mic as they came walking up the dune. “We’re really gonna spend the day here?” It almost seemed too good to be true; tears of gratitude and joy welled up in her eyes as she looked back to the gently crashing waves. In the deep dungeons of Overhaul’s compound, she could only dream of the ocean. Now here it was, right before her very eyes, close enough to touch. 

“Of course,” Eraserhead smiled. He adjusted his grip on the chairs and umbrella before extending his hand to her. “Let me put this stuff down, and then we’ll go into the water, okay?” Eri nodded without looking at him, spellbound by the push-and-pull of the waves, but she reached for his hand on instinct. It wrapped around her small one, tough and calloused and warm, and led her down the side of the sand dune to the beach. Eraserhead left Present Mic to set up the chairs and umbrellas as he led Eri to the shoreline, where she stopped hesitantly in front of the water. The back-and-forth crashes almost seemed intimidating, now; surely, those waves could suck her right in and spirit her away into the great dark unknown. With a small whimper, she hugged Eraserhead’s leg and tugged at the ruffles of her bathing suit. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t let you go anywhere,” Eraserhead chuckled warmly and gave her back an encouraging pat. She clutched tight to his hand as she tentatively inched up to the waterline. As a wave came rolling up, foaming and dumping seashells into the wet sand, she dipped her foot into the water. She squealed and retracted it, giddy with relief. 

“It feels good!” Again, as the wave came cresting up, she edged forward, sticking her whole foot in this time. She laughed at the funny feeling of the bubbles popping against her skin and the water swirling around, making the shells bump against her ankle. She quickly leaned down to scoop up one. It was a cracked scallop shell, but the brown-and-cream patterning was so pretty that she still found herself holding it up to the sun to admire it. “So this once had a clam in it?” 

“Yep,” Eraserhead confirmed, taking it from her to look it over. “Now it’s an empty shell. It’s broken, but would you still like to keep it?” 

“Mhmm!” 

Eraserhead whistled to Present Mic, who obediently brought over a bucket that she could drop the shell into. Before she could dive down to get another one, Present Mic tapped her on the head with a tube of something. 

“Eri, let’s put on some sunscreen first, okay?” 

She nodded obediently, and he leaned down, popping open the cap and squeezing a generous amount of the thick white cream into his head. Eri scrunched up her face as he rubbed it all into the skin of her face, then slicked it over her arms, legs, and the bare areas of her back. She grimaced at first because it made her feel gross and sticky, but she tolerated it because she knew it would make him sad if she objected. 

The two men crouched beside her as she weaved her hands through the sloshing surf to catch the shells fluttering up from the deep, picking ones she liked to keep. She spent a good fifteen minutes there while the two looked on until Present Mic cleared his throat. 

“Eri, would you like to go swimming?” 

She straightened up, salty water dripping from her hands. 

“Oh, but I don’t know how to swim…” she said with a longing look out at the sea. It certainly looked fun and refreshing. She glanced back when Eraserhead chuckled and patted her on the head. 

“Don’t worry. We have floats for you.” As he said it, Present Mic approached, blowing up the second of a pair of strange-looking inflatables of transparent red plastic. Eraserhead dipped them in the water before sliding them up her arms, nestling them near her armpits. She flapped her arms up and down, giggling at the weird feeling of the plastic rubbing against her skin, and then watched as Eraserhead straightened up and offered her his hand again. Eri’s heart hummed with happiness as she reached up to take it, marveling at how strong yet soft it felt. 

Even with all the people around, there hadn’t been a moment yet that Eri felt nervous because she always felt safe with Eraserhead. She wasn’t daunted in the least as he helped her wade out into the surf, the sand squishing beneath her toes and the salt spray lapping at her upper body and face because she knew that he’d never let her be dragged away. As she went deep enough to have to tip her head back, she lifted up her legs and began wildly kicking her legs. The floaties kept her buoyant on the waves, and she bobbed in a circle around his legs, occasionally bumping into him as she panted with effort. 

“I’m swimming!” she screeched with delight, laughing as a wave pushed her up against his thighs. Eraserhead smirked as he pushed her a foot away, keeping a hold of her ankle. Eri squealed as she rolled onto her back and drifted on the sloshing water. “Mic, Mic, look!” she called to the blond as he came wading out into the water, his long hair piled into a bun atop his head. At that moment, a wave crashed over the back of her head, drenching her entirely. 

“Ah! Eri, dear, are you all right?” Present Mic exclaimed and raced toward her at the speed of an Olympic swimmer. 

“Ugh, you’re such a mother hen,” Eraserhead grunted as he calmly tugged the sputtering and coughing Eri close. “You okay?” he then asked, eyebrows pinched together. Eri flipped her dripping silver bangs out of her eyes, blinking rapidly as the salt stung, and sucked in a breath. After gathering her thoughts, she began laughing happily. 

“I got wet,” she snickered. Present Mic deflated in relief before scooping her up to mount her on his shoulders. Her squeals of happiness bounded up to join the caws of the seabirds as Present Mic roared and charged the waves, kicking at them on the pretense of defending Eri from the sea. She clutched onto his head as she kicked her little feet too, although that high up, she could only nab some of the bubbly froth spraying up. 

After about an hour of playing in the water, Eri retreated back inland to build a sandcastle. They decorated it with the shells she found, as well as bits of kelp and some driftwood. Present Mic declared her the queen of the castle and slapped a seaweed crown on her head; it felt really gross and slimy, so she chucked it at him on instinct, and Eraserhead started guffawing when it slapped across Present Mic’s face like an enormous mustache. 

As she was watching a hermit crab scuttle across the sand, a large yawn split her face. She reached up to rub her eye with her knuckles, smearing sand and salt particles over her eyebrow. 

“Tired, kiddo?” Eraserhead asked with a lopsided smile. She nodded and stood up to toddle over and hug his legs. He affectionately tousled her hair, which was dry and tangly from the salty water. Present Mic came up behind her to wrap her in a pink floral-patterned towel, and Eraserhead picked her up to carry her to their chairs and umbrellas. As he reclined in one of the fold-out chairs with a long sigh, she snuggled into his neck, playing with the ends of his long black hair. 

“Did you have fun?” he asked as she smiled sleepily up at him. 

“Mhmm,” she nodded and then yawned loudly again. As she nuzzled into him, enjoying the way the scent of salt mingled with the smell of his cologne, she quietly asked, “Can we come again sometime?” 

“Sure.” 

“Can Deku and Lemillion come too?” 

“Sure. I’m sure they’d love to.” 

Satisfied, Eri closed her eyes, embracing the drowsiness threatening to overtake her system. She listened to the rhythmic roll of the waves and the rush of the wind and the squawks of the seabirds and the symphony of shouts and laughs riding the wind. It really was a beautiful sound. As she sank into the sweet twilight of sleep, she found herself reminded again of all the heroes who risked their all to save her from the deep dark of the underground yakuza compound. 

Thanks to them… I can listen to the beach anytime I want to. Thank you… My heroes…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[twistedtummies2]

Friends in High Places - Part 2

Now the fun part begins, ladies and gents, and you get to meet my new Giant OC. No point in prolonging the inevitable, let’s just get into it!

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

Dawn came, as it usually does. But the circumstances you awoke in were not the usual ones, even for your lifestyle at Night Raven College. You grunted in the middle of a prodigious snore – perhaps more prodigious than you wanted to admit – and swatted reflexively at something that was tickling your nose. After sneezing softly and gasping a bit afterwards, your eyes began to flutter open. Through bleary vision, you felt raw sunlight filter over you, and hissed through your teeth before finally allowing yourself to look around. You saw green…and remembered. Rubbing your eyes, you cautiously sat up on the huge leaf of the beanstalk. You peered around, letting your eyes adjust…and as they did, you felt your jaw drop in wonder. Everything around you was blissful blue, dotted with huge, white spots. Beneath you, you saw only more of the same; no sight of the world below. One huge, white powder puff drifted near you; you passed your hand through it, and it came out damp, like waving your hand through a spray of fine mist. You wiped your hand clean against your chest, and steadily got to your feet. The huge leaf shook, but somehow did not break; how a leaf could be so sturdy, you had no clue, but you were grateful. “Ace?” you called. “Deuce?” “Over here!” a familiar voice answered. “About time you got up,” sniffed another. You looked and saw your companions – still in their school uniforms, naturally – standing not so far away, waving to you. You realized they were standing on a wide, thick vine that stretched over a great, vast, pale blue canyon…and on the other side, shining like a jewel, was a huge, strange looking tower. It was bigger than any castle or manor house you’d seen in your life; even the Academy itself, nor its rival, Royal Sword, could boast such vast construction. It seemed to be floating in mid-air, suspended on a vast plateau of white clouds, impossibly piercing the blue sky above. “Good Gods,” you whispered to yourself, awestruck…then stepped onto the vine bridge, and carefully made your way to join your friends. “Pretty cool, right?” smirked Ace, crossing his arms and glancing back at the huge tower. “Gotta be the right spot!” “I sure hope it is,” sighed Deuce, eyeing the distant tower far more warily. “It is,” you nodded. “I…I can’t explain it, but I sense his magic. Grim is in there somewhere. We’ve found him already.” “Don’t speak so fast,” Ace said, frowning. “We’ve still gotta get in there in order to FIND him, rescue him, and get back out.” “And find Azul his payment in the process,” Deuce Spade added. “Don’t remind me,” grumbled Ace Trappola…then winced and moaned as his stomach growled deeply, clutching it. “Ngh…damn it…we should get this over with quickly, I’m STARVING!” “Why not have one of the beans?” Deuce asked, raising an eyebrow. “They’re the size of basketballs, I think that’d be enough for even YOUR stomach.” “Are you kidding?” sneered Ace. “I HATE beans! I need to find some real food!” “Well, we won’t manage any of that just standing here,” you smiled, finding it impossible to hold back, and began to walk across the huge green bridge. “Let’s move!” Deuce and Ace looked at each other, shrugged, and followed you across.

It did not take more than a few minutes to reach the end of the vine bridge. You hopped off and found yourself in a vast, lush area. A sort of path – though you could not really call it a road – spread out before you, leading between blades of grass that were as tall as small trees…and huge, bright flowers that were even larger still. Colorful mushrooms the size of boulders also lined your way, as the three of you marched along. You froze suddenly, and Ace and Deuce did the same, as you saw something move behind one of the mushrooms…then watched as a fat blue caterpillar, as long as you were tall, crawled its way around the mushroom’s stem, and then slunk into the tall grass, never paying you the slightest attention. “Wow,” you murmured. “What kinda butterfly do you think that would make-YAH?!” A butterfly that was twice your size, with blue and black wings, suddenly glided down from a huge, yellow flower, and swooped over your head. It flapped its gossamer wings and disappeared again. Deuce snickered. “Something like that?” he teased. You glared at him half-heartedly. Ace just rolled his eyes and sighed as his stomach rumbled again, louder than before. “I hope that place has something good there,” he moaned, staring at the tower longingly. “Should have eaten something before we left last night…” “You had dinner right before we visited the Silent Woods!” protested Deuce. “You ate twice as much as me AND the Prefect here together!” “Minor details,” shrugged Ace. You blushed and shook your head. Ace noticed and smirked. “I bet you’re kind of hoping there’s some good food there, too, huh?” he teased. “My interests are an open secret,” you answered, monotonously. “You really, REALLY don’t have to keep bringing them up.” “Well, it’s your fault for going to a school where everyone’s a greedy pig!” chuckled Ace. “You said it, not me,” mumbled Deuce, which earned him a dirty glare from Trappola. You rolled your eyes and continued on your way. After walking through the grassy area for a ways, you found a wide, blue lake; in it were lily pads the size of rafts. You paused for a moment, as you suddenly realized the strange expanse of water almost resembled the Castle Moat from your dream the night before last. “Now I KNOW we’re in the right place,” you muttered. “What’s that?” asked Deuce. “Nothing, nothing,” you said, and looked around. You spotted a broken piece of reed, which seemed seven feet long in your hands as you picked it up. You used the stick to pull one of the lily pads closer to the shore, and hopped on carefully. “Come on!” you called to the Heartslabyul duo, who readily followed you. You then plucked another piece of reed off the bank and tossed it to Deuce. “Here,” you told him. “Help me punt us across.” “Aww, how come I don’t get to drive?” Ace whined. “He who did not kink-shame me shall have the stick,” you sniffed snootily. Ace blushed, huffed, and pouted. Smiling vengefully, you nodded to Deuce, who returned the action, and the pair of you pushed the pieces of reed down into the water. You sighed with some relief when they touched the ground; and the pair of you began to make your way across the lake, while Ace grumbled and mumbled about his hungry stomach. The tower loomed over you closer than ever as you crossed the blue water. It was made entirely of gray stone, and they could see a massive purple doorway, which matched the curious violet-hued roofing panels. It was bigger than a mountain, and as the three of you left the lily pad raft and stepped onto the muddy shore beyond, words seemed to fail you. All of you could not help but marvel at the size of the terrific structure, as if some strange spell hovered over it, drawing your constant attention. “It’s enormous,” you murmured. “I wonder if anybody from below has set foot in this part of-OOF!” You grunted and flopped over. Ace and Deuce rushed to your side, as you realized you had fallen into a small trench. The pair helped you out again, and as you dusted yourself off, Ace snorted. “Well, maybe no one back home has,” he said, and pointed to where you had fallen, “But somebody sure did.” You looked…and your eyes widened, as you realized the “trench” you had fallen into was, in actuality, a gigantic footprint in the mud – a footprint that was a good three or four times larger than yourself. “Oh, gosh!” gasped Deuce. “Who made that?” “Well, it wasn’t Cinderella,” sniped Ace. “We’ll need to be careful,” you whispered. “Brilliant deduction,” Ace grumbled…then flinched and subsided at the look both yourself and Deuce gave him, before your little party made its way closer to the tower, cautiously stepping around the huge heel mark. There was but a single step that led up to the door of the tower, which loomed over you like some abnormal specter. You tried to jump up, and found you could not reach the edge of the step, no matter what you tried. “Here,” Deuce said, “We’ll help.” And help he and Ace did. Ace climbed up onto Deuce’s shoulders, and you climbed up onto his. It was easy then to get over the “wall” and onto the top of the porch before the tower entrance. From there, you helped Ace climb up, and the two of you together helped Deuce. “One small step for mankind, one giant step for us,” you commented. “Literally,” both Ace and Deuce chuckled simultaneously. You approached the massive door, and knocked on the edge of it. You paused, waiting to see if anyone would answer…but no one did. You soon found yourself cursing your stupidity; judging from the size of the portal alone, you were the size of a mouse. The chances of being hard were slim to none. Ace came over to your side. He glanced up at the far away doorknob – a fancy thing, made of well-carved metal – and then at you. He didn’t say anything, but you watched as the card-man looked around with narrowed eyes…then, he grinned, and squatted down, scratching his chin as he inspected the gap under the door. “I think maybe we can wiggle our way under here,” he said. “I don’t know; breaking in doesn’t seem very…wise,” Deuce frowned. “Whoever lives here took Grim,” you reminded him. “I’d say breaking in for a rescue is a lot lower on the crime scale than kidnapping him.” Deuce nodded silently and slowly. “That’s true…but we could be walking into a trap,” he warned. “Hey, that’s what makes this fun!” grinned Ace. “Come on, Spade, show some sense of adventure! Besides, there’s gotta be somethin’ to eat in there; I, for one, am getting to where the breakfast is.” So saying, Ace promptly moved down onto his belly, and crawled under the doorway. You hesitated for only a moment, pausing to see if he would make it…and when he did, you followed him in like manner. “C’mon, Deuce!” you hissed, trying to keep your voice down…though whether any resident giant would even be able to hear your voice, you had no clue. Nor did you want to find out. Deuce soon began to squirm his way under the door…then grunted and gasped for a moment. “Gah…aaagh…s-stuck!” he hissed, halfway through. “I keep telling you that Red Crème Soda just goes to your hips,” you sighed, and gave another tug…as Deuce jerked free… …And Ace let out a shriek of laughter as Spade’s pants got caught in the underside of the door, leaving him in his underwear. You bit your knuckle to keep from sniggering yourself as Deuce flushed. “Sh-Shut up!” he snapped at Ace. “S-Sorry!” Ace gasped out. “But…it looks like you really got caught with your pants down! HA! C-CAUGHT WITH YOUR PANTS DOWN, GET IT?! PAH-HA HA HA HA!” Ace doubled over, clutching his abs with one hand while the other slapped his knee. Deuce grumbled and uttered a few VERY unpleasant words, before pulling his pants free and slipping them on again. As he buttoned them up, he noticed the way your shoulders were shaking, and his blue-green eyes narrowed sharply. “You shut it, too!” he rapped. “It’s not funny!” “Sorry, but it really is,” you giggled, and shook your head. “Let’s just…never speak of it again?” “Gladly,” Deuce growled. “No promises!” sing-songed Ace. You rolled your eyes while Deuce growled a bit louder. He took up the rear, grumbling to himself and adjusting his trousers as you led the way. Ace stuck his hands in his pockets and walked in the center of the line you had all formed. Inside the tower, everything was as silent as a tomb. You appeared to be in the foyer of a giant house, and a rather nice house. To your right was a huge closet, with sliding doors; they were closed, so you could not see their contents, but to your left was a great deal more to see. There was an enormous glass table, with a decorative-looking armchair and loveseat placed in a right angle around it. A titanic shrunk was against the opposing wall, covered in various objects that must have seemed like tiny bits of bric-a-brac to the Giant that lived here, but much of which appeared almost as large as you, if not larger. Ace whistled, impressed. “Wow,” he said. “Azul wasn’t kidding: Giants live well.” “I doubt it’s all entirely his wealth,” Deuce broke in, and pointed towards the shrunk. “Look: that’s the Foxworth Grand Piano. It’s been missing for a year!” You had barely taken note of the elegant, well-polished piano before Ace gasped and pointed to another part of the shrunk. “And there!” he exclaimed. “That’s La Fidèle: The Famous Bejeweled Bell! She was stolen from her cathedral only weeks ago, it was in all the papers!” “Cater reported it, I remember,” you agreed, and pointed towards the glass table. “He’s got more knick-knacks yet: isn’t that the Black Cauldron of Prydain?” “It was last seen in the Swamps of Morva,” Deuce murmured. “How did it get here?” “I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count,” Ace mumbled. “Well, we can be sure of one thing,” you sighed, as you led the group out of the foyer and into the next part of the house. “Grim isn’t the only thing this Giant has taken from our world.” From the foyer, you entered what appeared to be a den. Two leather couches, bigger than the tallest hills you knew, were set near a false fireplace. On the wall was a TV set; from your perspective, it seemed the size of a cinema screen. “At least he’s not a barbarian,” you muttered. “LOOK!” yelled Ace suddenly. “OVER THERE!” Without warning, Trappola pushed past you and sprinted towards another room. You looked to Deuce, who shrugged, and the two of you followed behind him. The source of Ace’s abrupt excitement soon became vividly clear as the two of you neared him. He was panting like a dog, eyes wide open as he stared upwards. You quickly realized you were in a kitchen, and Ace was staring up at the table. A sumptuous scent filled your nostrils, and you felt your own stomach growl as you tilted your head back, back, back…you could smell it, you could see the steam, sense the fulfilling heat… “FOOD!” squealed Ace. “Oh-ho, yeah! COME TO PAPA, BABY!” And without another word, Ace flew towards one of the table legs. They legs were carved with a spiral around their “core,” and he scurried up and around the spiral like it was a ramp, before managing to climb up onto the table-top. “Oh, boy,” sighed Deuce. “We’d better get up there and make sure he doesn’t drown in soup or something…” “What a way that’d be to go,” you muttered, and the pair of you followed the same path Ace took as you hurried up onto the kitchen table. The climb was not easy – especially the jump from the leg onto the table-top itself – but you managed, somehow. Your eyes widened as you stared around the table. A massive breakfast had been laid out…massive in more ways than one, in fact. Not only was there a lot of food, but the food itself was disproportionately large. There was a giant plate with several strips of bacon on it, each one longer than you were tall. Sausage links, the size of entire pigs you’d encountered, sat on another plate. A juicy slab of ham, carved into rather thick slices and  the size of a shed, sat on another platter. A bowl of scrambled eggs the size of a swimming pool sat beside a loaf of bread that looked to be the size and length of an 18-Wheeler Trailer. Pancakes were piled onto another plate, in a stack the size of an apartment building. These were all joined by a jar of strawberry jelly, a butter dish, a salt and pepper shaker duo that were each the same height as yourself, and other assorted pieces of kitchenware. There was also a thick block of Swiss cheese, once again a hundred times larger than normal, near the center of the table. This was where Ace had wound up: you and Deuce saw him kneeling before the huge block, taking huge bites straight out of it. His expression was happy and sweet, eyes closed in bliss, cheeks bulging as he chewed the thick chunks of cheese in his mouth. “GRUM, GRUM, GRUM…GUUULLLP!” Ace swallowed, and his face tightened with mild discomfort, a visible bulge trailing down his neck…then, as it vanished behind his chest and the food dropped into his empty stomach, he thumped his chest and let out a somewhat raspy, gassy burp. “HHHUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLUUUUUCK! Whew! Man, I needed that,” he sighed, and dove back into the cheese, mouth-first. You blushed, averting your eyes quickly. Deuce blinked slowly…then sighed through his nose and facepalmed. “There are days I wish I’d been sorted into Pomefiore, I swear,” he groaned. You chuckled softly at his distress, and patted his shoulder. Deuce gave you a weak smile in return. You both walked towards the block of cheese, and each tore out a hunk of the stuff with your bare hands. (Or, in Deuce’s case, at least, gloved hands.) After all, while you weren’t going to chow down the way Ace could, you were both hungry, too. “We’ll have a quick bite,” you said. “We’re not here to eat.” “Shaysh ‘uu,” mumbled Ace through a full mouth. “I wonder where the little monster could be,” Deuce pondered, biting his cheek thoughtfully as he looked around. “HEY!” called a voice. “UP HERE!” All three of you jumped – Ace coughed and choked, having swallowed wrong as a result – and you turned and looked around. Following the advice of the voice, you turned your head upward…and gasped, pointing somewhat dramatically towards the ceiling. Your companions followed your pointing finger…and soon saw what you saw. Dangling from a hook on the ceiling was a shiny brass birdcage (again, larger than any birdcage you’d seen before), and inside the cage, you could very clearly see the familiar cat-like, gray-furred, flame-eared form of your fellow custodian and half-student. “Grim!” you called out. “Are you okay?” “Oh, I’m fine,” Grim meowed, looking at you with rather bored teal-toned eyes. “You know, being carried into the sky, shoved in some big idiot’s pocket, thrown into this cage about seventy miles above the floor…I’m happy as a clam.” “Well, someone is extra catty today.” “You would be, too!” Grim hissed, and slammed his paws on the little bars of the cage. “GET ME OUTTA HERE!” “We’ll try our best!” Deuce called up. “Sho…any’un g’t a plan?” Ace asked, tearing another piece of cheese from the block and eating it noisily. “I’m thinking,” you sighed, glancing between your friends and Grim as you racked your brain, trying to figure out a scheme. “We’d better work fast,” Deuce advised. “Who knows when that ‘big idiot’ might show up?” CRRREEEAAAK… All of you froze…and slowly looked towards the kitchen exit. From the table, you could see into the den beyond…and a fraction of the foyer beyond that. As the sound of humongous hinges moving groaned through the house, you saw light flow into distant hall…then, it was suddenly cut off, as with a sound that could be best described as a “THUM,” the door was shut. And then… KER-THUMP, KER-THUMP, KER-THUMP… Footsteps. Giant Footsteps. The color left your face, your blood slowing into icy creeps in your veins, as you heard Ace GULP down the cheese nervously and whimper, while Deuce inhaled sharply and tensely. “He’s back!” mewed Grim. “HIDE!” you shouted to the others. “On the double!” Ace and Deuce chorused, and both of them scampered off. You saw Ace dive behind one of the sausage links, ducking down behind it; his Spade-themed compadre, meanwhile, lifted some of the pancakes on the stack, and managed to squeeze himself in-between them. Once you knew your friends were safe, you looked up at Grim. “Act natural!” you hissed. Grim nodded, and proceeded to back away from the bars. You heard him whistle innocently. Rolling your eyes – because, yeah, THAT was “acting natural,” sure – you hurried to find a hiding spot of your own. You could hear the Giant moving through the house; he wasn’t coming straight to the kitchen, but you weren’t sure where exactly he was, nor what he was doing. As long as it gave you time to hide, you didn’t care, either. You finally decided to crawl into the swiss cheese; there was a particularly large air pocket you could squeeze into and curl up in. It was far from the most comfortable spot, but it was better than nothing. You had scarcely manage do slip into this hideaway when the KER-THUMP, KER-THUMP, KER-THUMP of the Giant’s footsteps grew louder. You saw a huge shadow fall across the wall…and then, a deep, powerful, low, brutish voice began to speak, the sound rumbling through the whole building… “Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum-oh, forget it, BREAKFAST TIIIIIME!” You blinked. That…wasn’t the sort of “opening line” you expected. As it turned out, the Giant wasn’t what you had expected either. You had expected a huge, hulking monster – more gorilla than man – with a thick bushy beard and a huge nose and ugly fangs…not unlike the pictures you had seen in storybooks as a kid. Instead…as the enormous figure entered the kitchen…you saw that the titan was a young man, about the same age as yourself, and…not too bad looking, you had to confess. His face was clean, round, and surprisingly handsome, with baby blue eyes and a gap-toothed smile. The Giant had reddish-brown hair, styled in a crew cut, and wore a green t-shirt under a leather zipper-vest, colored dark purple. Tight-fitting blue jeans were on his legs, fastened with a plain black leather belt, with a simple steel buckle, and black leather boots covered his feet, tied with matching black laces. On his wrists were two black leather bracelets. Around his thick neck was a leather cord, with a pink gemstone pendant on it: you recognized it as a magic crystal, the sort the many students at Night Raven wore pinned to their uniforms, allowing the current status of their power to be more easily gauged. The enormity of the Giant made you tremble, regardless of appearances, in your little hiding-hole: you knew the huge creature would be enormous – they were called GIANTS for good reason, after all – but much like looking at a famous skyscraper one may have heard of and seen in pictures, up-close-and-personal, for the very first time, the exact dimensions of the creature didn’t truly register till you were able to get a proper glimpse at its mass. Not only was the ogre about 50 feet tall, but its bulk was QUITE prodigious: the young titan had a hurly-burly sort of framework, with powerful arms and legs, like those of an experienced and well-toned bodybuilder. Its green shirt fit VERY tightly, and you could make out the blocky, brick-like chest…but you could also make out its weight, and the impression made by the deep pit of its shirt-covered navel. There was no polite way to say it, the Giant was FAT: its thick, round paunch jiggled and bounced with every step it took, like a huge ball of lard. Its hips were wide and heavy, too, plump and plush as could be. The mixture of blubber and beef, overall, gave it a classic “musclegut” build. The Giant sighed and stretched, letting out a relieved shout that made the whole room quake. You curled up tighter, and distantly heard your friends whimper in fright. “AAAAAAAAAHHHhhhhhhhaaaa…DAMN, it feels NICE to get back after a good run!” thundered the Giant, in his huge, booming voice. Then he scratched his sides, and you heard that giant, house-sized gut gurgle loudly. BRRRROOOORRRRLLLLG… “Mmmmm…don’t worry, tummy…you’re gonna be niiice an’ full soon enough,” the Giant crooned, speaking to his own belly sweetly. You blushed bright red at all of this, and fought back the urge to curse violently at your own weakness; your interest in big, hungry guys was beyond well-known at Night Raven, and being in the presence of a literal handsome giant, even with all the context involved… …Seriously, did Chernabog just hate you, or something? This was COMPLETELY unfair to your hormones. The massive ogre whistled cheerily – a sound like a factory steam whistle – and approached the cage where Grim was kept. You froze up, watching suspensefully as he grinned and peered between the bars. “Hello again, little friend!” the Giant greeted boisterously. “Didja miss me?” You could hear Grim mew softly in fear. The Giant’s smile faded, and he tilted his head. “Awww, what’s wrong, li’l buddy?” the ogre asked, sounding legitimately concerned. “You don’t need to be scared. I told you, I’m not gonna hurtcha. I only eat or smash people when they make me mad.” He smiled and poked a finger through the bars of the cage, trying to pet Grim; you couldn’t tell, from your vantage point, if he succeeded or not. “You’re my new little friend. So I’m gonna keep you safe. You should be happy!” You heard Grim mew again, and shook your head to yourself as you watched the Giant’s smile falter. You suddenly realized…he didn’t seem that evil. The brute looked genuinely hurt that Grim was scared of him and didn’t want to talk. The Giant’s smile stretched wide again, however, as you could practically imagine a lightbulb going off over his auburn-haired head. “Hey! I know a way to cheer you up, li’l guy!” he claimed, and then marched past the table to someplace behind you. You heard the sound of those enormous footsteps and felt the table vibrate ever so slightly from the weight of the Giant, rocking the room as he moved about. You heard the sound of another door opening and closing behind you. For a moment, you noticed Deuce and Ace peeking out from their hiding places…only to vanish from sight again as the Giant began to return. Once the youthful titan was back in view, you saw that he was carrying two large Tupperware containers in his mitts. He put one down on the table, then opened the lid of the other as he showed it to Grim inside of the cage. “Would you like some food, little friend?” asked the Giant. “You must be hungry, you didn’t eat a bite yesterday! How about my old family specialty? I have a little left over from yesterday…and I don’t usually leave leftovers ” Dimly, you heard Grim ask. “Specialty? Nyah? Wh-what is it?” “Pot roast!” grinned the Giant, happily. “It’s made with this super-awesome chocolate glaze, and sprinkled with spitstachios-I mean, smishnasmees-I mean, smushinglemishnaglas…uh…with nuts.” The Giant blushed sheepishly and chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I…can never seem to get that word right.” You blinked slowly. THIS was the lunkhead that had taken Grim away? You kept going back and forth in your head between the terrifying cloud-demon that had swept your friend away, and all the buildup your mind had been preparing for…and you kept finding that this huge lug was not at all what you had anticipated at the end of it all. He was huge, but he didn’t seem all that bad! In any case, you weren’t sure what Grim’s response was, but clearly it didn’t make the Giant happy, because he put the pot roast container back down on the table, then picked up the other. “How ‘bout some fish then?” he tried. “Kitty-cats like fish, don’t they?” “I am not a normal cat!” Grim protested…but then you heard him sniffing the air. “Eh? Is that…is that tuna?” You facepalmed in your hiding spot. Gosh-darn that little creature’s weakness… “Uh-huh! Uh-huh!” the Giant nodded, clearly encouraged by the response. “I use ‘em for pizza toppings…” So saying, he lifted one of the fish out of the container…and you saw that it was an ENTIRE tuna fish, dangling like an anchovy from the Giant’s fingertips. “…See?” You heard the Giant giggle, and spotted Grim’s paw reaching through the bars as he meowed sweetly. “Awww, that’s better! Good little friend!” cooed the Giant, and pushed the tuna through the bars. “There you go! Eat up! Good kitty!” The Giant giggled, no doubt watching Grim tear into the tuna for a few moments…then closed the lid and moved beyond your sight again as he took both containers back towards the refrigerator somewhere in his kitchen. You heard him open the fridge…then, Ace and Deuce poked their heads out again. “THAT’S the Giant?” Ace hissed in a hushed sort of call. “He doesn’t seem very scary at all! What a letdown!” “He may be worse than he seems,” Deuce reasoned. “He DID confirm he eats people when they make him mad. We don’t know how he’d react if we-” He cut himself off and hid again. “Shh!” Ace warned. “He’s coming back!” Then he vanished too. You never moved a muscle, nor said a word. A few moments later, the Giant came back into view, and groaned, heaving his huge body down as he sat at the kitchen table, the chair legs far below scraping and grinding against the floor. The ogre sighed as he placed a giant-sized glass of what appeared to be chocolate milk on the table, then rubbed his hands together and licked his lips as he looked over the food on his table. “Welp! Nothing works up the appetite like exercise!” he declared. “I think I’ll just have some light breakfast and then see what to do from there. Does that sound good to you, li’l fella?” he asked, turning towards Grim’s cage. You heard Grim hiccup. The Giant laughed; his chortles made his thick, fat belly wobble and bounce in his lap. “I hoped you’d agree!” sang the ogre. You were flabbergasted, as you briefly glanced out and around the table again. All of THIS…was a LIGHT breakfast? Just how much could this Giant eat?! You were about to get a hint, you supposed, for the Giant reached out, and grabbed the bowl of scrambled eggs. He then picked up a fork – which was about the size of a trident, but certainly didn’t look it, in his meaty fist – and smacked his lips as he looked into the bowl. “Hee-Hi-Ho-Hum, I need some chow in my big tum!” he chanted, in an exaggerated depth…then sniggered to himself before, without the slightest preamble, he began to shovel the eggs into his mouth at breathtaking speed. GROMPH-NOMPH-SCHNOMPH-OMPH-GLOBBLE-GULP-GLUCK-GLURLP…! Your jaw went slack and your eyes bugged out. You relaxed your tense, cramped position as you watched the ogre begin his feast. It didn’t seem as if he was chewing at all; he simply shoved each forkful of yellow-white mash into his mouth and gulped it down without fail, gobbling the massive bowl of scramble sloppily. Thick, lumpy, formless bulges slithered down his strong neck, his throat seemingly working more like a conveyor belt, forcing each mouthful of eggs down towards that huge belly. Within a matter of moments, the entire bowl – which could have fed a hundred people back home, and you guessed would have been at least enough to feed a family of four here in the Kingdom Above the Clouds – had been emptied of even the smallest fleck of egg. You knew this, because when the fork could no longer pick up the egg inside, the Giant loudly slurped up the remnants left in the bowl. After the ogre finished the eggs completely, he pushed the empty bowl aside and tapped his chin with one hand, the other lifting up his tight-fitting shirt. You blushed anew, feeling your heart pounding in your chest with an emotion other than fear as you saw the top curve of his belly, and heard the sound of that huge hand sliding over his paunch. His skin was smooth and soft looking…you started to imagine how warm it might be to touch…

…You shook your head to clear it. “Focus, dang it!” you hissed to yourself. The Giant was unaware of the inner conflict he was causing you as he removed the hand that had been tapping his chin thoughtfully, and began to sway one finger between the plate of bacon and the plate of sausage. “Let’s see…Eeney-Meaney-Miney-Mo, Feeney-Fumney-Finey-Fo…my tummy says to pick the best to start and it will beee…YOU!” His finger stopped…pointing at the plate of bacon. You sighed with some relief; that bought Ace a bit of time, you supposed. The keyword was “supposed.” The Giant plucked a single strip off the plate, which you had expected, and then crunched it up in a few quick bites. You heard a rumble of pleasure come from the baby-faced titan’s core as sucked on his fingers and made sure to lick up any bacon bits that strayed from his mouth; clearly he was enjoying the crispy, salty-sweet meat. The ogre swallowed thinly – GLUCK! – and then, to your astonishment, hoisted the plate of bacon up in both hands…and gave it a light shake as he opened his jaws WIDE beneath its edge… “Ahhhhh-HOMPH-OMPH-NOMPH-CHOMPH…!” The handsome monster’s cheeks became swollen as he put down the now empty plate. You could hear the bacon being ground to a pulp between his teeth, crackling and crunching as he chewed loudly. You shuddered, remembering how the giants in your storybooks back in your homeworld would talk of “grinding bones to make their bread.” Your morbid imagination could not help but conjure such imagery at the loud snapping and popping the bacon strips made as they were masticated into a pasty pulp. However, this Giant still didn’t seem like the Giants you knew from those old storybooks; most of them didn’t smile with closed eyes and huge, adorable grins while enjoying bacon. GRRRUUULLLP! The huge mound of bacon in the ogre’s mouth was forced down into its gullet; it hadn’t even reached the stomach before the creature reached for the next plate… …The dish of sausage. You watched, tensing up again as you waited with suspense. The last you’d noticed, Ace had still been hiding amongst the sausages. The Giant didn’t seem to notice him, as he lifted the plate, just as he had done with the bacon… …And dumped the sausage links into his mouth en-masse. You couldn’t tell if your heart bounced up into your throat or found its way down to your toes, but either way, it felt heavy, and like it was not somewhere it should have been. The Giant began to chew, cheeks bulging with the sausage. You heard the squelching and smushing of the meat as it was broken apart, the sound rather different from the bacon; perhaps because the meat was thicker and more tender, the brute had to chew more slowly. Then – before you could even let out a strangled plea of “No…Ace…!” – the monster swallowed. GLLLUUULLLP! You watched a thick lump travel down the creature’s throat, and felt your breath hitch. You were certain you were watching poor Ace make his own way down into the uncaring brute’s belly…you even swore, for a moment, that the bulge in the titan’s neck wriggled slightly… The Giant’s face twisted in discomfort; he was oblivious to the life he had just consumed, and simply grunted, thumping his chest with one fist while the other pressed against his rounded gut. He grunted as he beat his sternum once…twice…thrice… “BUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAP!” You had never heard anything like it. Having boarded at Night Raven for a good, long while, you thought you’d heard it all: between the predators in Savanaclaw, the gluttons in Scarabia, the sweet tooths in Heartslabyul and Diasomnia, and the binge-eaters and grazers of Ignihyde, and even the occasional bouts of overindulgence from those in Octavinelle (Pomefiore seemed to be the only dorm void of greedy guts, unless you counted Epel), there were plenty of eruptions that had graced your senses. Everything from the short, explosive sorts, to long, rumbling, low releases. The Giant’s belch topped them all: it shook the room, making the cheese block quiver around you, and nearly knocking you out of your shallow little hideaway. A stale sort of smell, with a meaty, acrid twinge filled the air, and the Giant sighed with relief. “Ahhhhh…THAT felt good,” he moaned, patting his stomach proudly…then looked up towards the cage that held Grim. “Ha Ha Ha! Didja HEAR that, little friend?” “It was hard not to,” Grim responded, blandly. You would have been blushing and enamored…but the thought that Ace had just been swallowed, perhaps even chewed to bits by the greedy ogre, was sort of making that difficult. You may have had your “kinks,” but you weren’t COMPLETELY insane, thank you very much! Grim didn’t sound bothered at all, though; perhaps he hadn’t realized what had happened? The Giant just smirked, and winked in Grim’s direction. “Ya think that was a good one?” he grunted. “Heh heh…listen to this…” So saying, the Giant subtly gulped down some air…then he gave his belly a shake. You heard the thick mash within make a “GLORBSH” sound in his stomach as it was jostled about. You shuddered, imagining poor Ace trapped in that foul, dark belly, surrounded by everything the Giant had guzzled so far…you had to find a way to help him… …Preferably before your face felt like it was going to catch fire from embarrassment. “BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRK!” …It was looking like that last part was going to be unlikely. “Phew!” gasped the Giant, and cackled, fanning the air before his nose, “Aw-haw, that was RANK!” You heard Grim gag and sputter, as the belch had been aimed in his general direction. You didn’t know whether to feel sorry for him…or envious. “Nyaaaaah! Gah, don’t DO that!” “Why not?” asked the Giant, sounding sincerely curious. “Nothing like a good burp to show appreciation for a meal! I never have anyone to show these off to, it’s good to have a proper audience!” “Lucky me,” mumbled Grim, sourly. “Yep!” the Giant chirruped, oblivious to the little fire imp’s sarcastic tone. “Hope you’re ready, little kitty, ‘cause I’ve got waaaay more where that came from…” So saying, the Giant reached for the loaf of bread, and lifted a huge knife that was sitting on the table; it wasn’t just huge because it belonged to the ogre, but in fact was so long, it looked about half the length of the blue-eyed ogre’s arm. The knife was as sharp as it was massive, for the Giant did not carve the bread, but instead – WHACK-WHACK! – sliced two pieces off the loaf with two quick swipes of his knife. Unconsciously, you placed a hand over your throat, and shivered in the pocket of the dairy block. The Giant hummed as he placed the two slices on a plate, and then reached across the table; he picked up the oversized jar of strawberry jam, and pulled the butter dish closer. Using the same huge knife (did he not have any other utensils?), he took a dollop of each and spread them over the pieces of toasted bread. Then, he lifted one piece of buttered-and-jellied toast, and – MUNCH-CRUNCH-MUNCH! – gobbled it up in three quick bites. The second toast followed soon after; just like the first – CRUNCH-MUNCH-CRUNCH! – it was ripped apart and sent down towards the belly of the Giant. You expected the Giant to go for more toast…but to your horror, he reached instead for the pancakes! Once again, fear and dread spiked in your chest. “Deuce!” you nearly squeaked out…but you held back. If you alerted the Giant to where you were at, who knew what might happen. The Giant licked his chops as he lifted the knife again. He patted some butter down on the top of the stack, then put down the knife for a moment to grab a large jug. You flinched as his arm reached past you…then retracted again with the jug. (Hence how you knew he’d needed to grab it.) A quick whiff told you that – past the strong scent of cheese around you – the jug was filled with maple syrup. The big-bellied brute poured the syrup over the pancakes carefully – he actually stuck his tongue, concentrating hard as he evidently did not want any of it to spill onto the table – then put the jug down. Then, your horror rose tenfold, as the Giant lifted the knife and a fork…And sliced the stack into the four pieces, striking through the middle twice. You heard no cry of pain, no scream of terror…and you saw no blood, which you immediately took to be a good sign. The mental imagery of blood seeping between the pancakes, like in a horror movie, made you VERY queasy, and you quickly repressed it. Instead, the pancakes seemed to just be ordinary pancakes. You had not seen Deuce leave the stack; you assumed that he was still in there, and that – by some miracle – the knife had missed. If this was the case, it was a cold comfort, for a moment later, the Giant began to gorge himself, much in the same way he had with the eggs earlier. OMPH-NOMPH-NOMPH-OMPH…! The building-sized behemoth stuffed the pancakes several fractions at a time into his mouth. Once again, he scarcely seemed to chew at all, practically vacuuming up the flapjacks without a moments delay. His Adam’s Apple – the size of a football – bobbed as he gulped down hearty helpings of the stuff. GRULPH-GRULPH-GRULPH-GRULPH…! Distantly, you heard the Giant’s pants creaking; you couldn’t see from where you were at, but you could imagine that belly – shirt pulled up, fully exposed – steadily swelling as the breakfast was piled into it faster and faster. You let out a keening sound, almost without knowing it, as the pancakes were soon finished off…revealing no sign of Deuce. It appeared that, just like Ace, he had been gulped down by the gap-toothed glutton. “Mph,” grunted the Giant, pawing at his own neck with an uncomfortable expression. “I need a drink…gotta wash it all down…” So saying, he reached for the (extra) tall glass of chocolate milk. You watched as the titan tilted his head back, and began to slug down the creamy, smooth, sweet beverage. His Adam’s Apple bounced like a rubber ball in his throat as waves of the stuff poured down his esophagus; from your vantage point, you could actually faintly hear the fluid splashing down into the belly of the beast like a cascade of dairy. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG…! As the Giant finished the drink, he sighed – “Ahhhooohhh…!” – and then SLAMMED the glass back down onto the table. You repressed the urge to yelp as the cheese block honest to goodness BOUNCED in response to the action…then covered your ears to avoid being deafened, as the Giant’s lips flapped with another volcanic-level belch. “BRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYUUUUUUUURRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUPLK!” he thundered, the sound louder, the quality slimier, and the stench more pungent than before. “Ho Ho! Now that – UUURRRRRRIIIP! – mph…that hit the spot! Ha!” You moaned with rising horror; now both of your friends, you could only imagine, were down in the stomach of the monster, being swirled about in a beastly mixture of mashed up food and souring milk. You hugged yourself silently, trying to figure out a way to get them out of there…but nothing came to your mind. The Giant sighed, pausing to lean back in his chair and rub his belly all over. Now you had a good look at that thick, heavy paunch, and you shuddered once again…this time, you had to shamefully admit, for entirely the wrong reasons. Again, you’d seen plenty of big appetites, and therefore plenty of big bellies…but when the gut in question was already the size of a house, seeing it continue to swell became a whole new experience. The Giant grunted, biting his lip and reaching down towards his pants. He fumbled with the buckle of his belt, and then the snap button of his blue denim trousers… POPK! ZZZRRRIIIP! BLLLOOORRRLLLSH! “YYYYYYUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPH!” the giant belched out the side of his mouth lazily, as his gut spilled into his lap fully; the already ponderous ball gut wobbled and jostled at the slightest touch as he drummed his fingers upon it… “Ohhhhhh, yeah…that’s MUCH better…BRUPP!” the Giant burped again, then smirked and looked up towards the birdcage dangling overhead. With total ease – he didn’t even need to stand up – he leaned upwards and plucked it off the hook, before placing it on the table, a few feet (inches?) away from your hiding spot, towards your right. The Giant opened the cage…and then reached inside. Grim let out a faint mewl as he was plucked up by the monsters thumb and forefinger. Then, with a slightly smug sort of smile, the Giant placed poor Grim upon his thick, round, silky-skinned stomach. “Could you give me a tummy rub, little friend?” he asked, with a slight coo in his voice. “I’m starting to feel nice and heavy now…heavier than usual, anyway, heh heh…” Grim bit his lip; you somehow sensed that he was thinking how this was more your cup of tea than his. Lucky little imp. The Giant frowned when the belly rubs were not granted immediately. He slapped the side of his own gut, which rippled and wobbled under Grim’s paws, making the cat-like creature let out a “meep!” of fear. “Go on!” grunted the Giant, pouting like a spoiled child. “Rub away! It’s not gonna bite ya…” Presumably seeing no other alternative, Grim obeyed, and began to paw and rub at the stomach of the brute. At first, you were doubtful those tiny hands of his would be any use…but given the way the Giant sighed again, rather dreamily, and allowed his tongue to flop from his jaws, eyes becoming half-lidded as his tummy was massaged…clearly they were. “Ohhhhhhhhh, yes…thaaat’s it, juuusssst like that,” the Giant groaned, licking his teeth. “Mmmrrraaaahhhh…heh heh…it’s good to have somebody here to rub my gut, gotta say…I could really get to enjoy this…” “That makes one of us,” grumbled Grim. “What?” thundered the Giant. “Nothing,” Grim answered, sibilantly. The Giant smiled, clearly satisfied with this answer, and wiggled his vast rump in his chair, making sure to get comfy… …Then, you saw him open one eye, and look towards the sliced ham. He licked his teeth a second time, then, still leaning back lazily, he grabbed the fork he’d been using…and stabbed it into one of the ham slices. Then…the giant brought the slice towards his mouth. Just like the pieces of toast he’d sampled earlier, he finished the honey-glazed piece of porcine muscle off in just a few quick bites – SCHLOMPH-GROMPH-SCHLOMPH! He was still chewing as he stabbed the fork into a second piece, and no sooner had he swallowed the first – GRRRUUULLLG! – then he stuffed the second into his mouth. SCHRUM, SCHRUM, SCHRUM… The ogre’s incisors and canines cut and shredded the ham, while his molars smashed it into a pinkish paste…not that you saw any of this, since he at least had the decently to chew with his mouth closed, but it wasn’t hard to imagine. You noticed Grim shuddered and paused in his attention to the titan’s belly…but that paused was only momentary, as the monster growled impatiently, and gave him a petulant look, cheeks still stuffed as he did. Grim nodded to show he understood, and continued to knead and press his paws into the softest, most tender portions of the thick blubber-tub. The Giant crooned around his closed mouth with appreciation, as he swallowed the second piece of ham – GLLLUUURRRG! – and then began to eat up a third…then a fourth…then a fifth… You felt extremely sorry for your friends in the belly of the beast; you had no hint of their status, neither hearing nor seeing any sign of them even making a DENT in the Giant’s abdomen…but as the brutish behemoth continued to have his big breakfast, you could only imagine how terrible it was for them, having chunks of mushy ham falling into he dark, stinking furnace of the giant teenager’s tanker…a tanker which sloshed and gurgled like a factory vat as you saw Grim’s ears fold back, clearly scared and deeply resenting his current predicament. You would have gladly traded places with him…again, if it weren’t for the whole “friends possibly being digested” thing. Within minutes, the entire slab of ham had been finished…except for one last slice. The Giant began to try and reach with his fork for the slice…but then stopped. You saw his brow knit and furrow as he began to think; you swore he must have had literal gears in his head, and they must have been rusty, because he seemed to be thinking so hard, you would forever swear you could HEAR those gears turning. Slowly, the Giant looked from the ham…to the knife on the table…to the rest of the bread loaf… …And then, finally, to the block of cheese you were hiding in. You gulped nervously. “Oh, no,” you whispered, as the brute smiled hungrily and picked up the knife. You watched him cut two more pieces of bread off the loaf. Then he placed the ham onto one of the slices… …And leaned forward, holding the knife ready – Grim squeaked and toppled into his navel, mewing as belly button kept him from tumbling to the floor – as he licked his lips, eyeing the Swiss cheese block. “No…nonononono…!” SWACK! You couldn’t even scream. You were totally unaware of the way things moved around you. You felt your whole body tighten and stiffen, eyes and mouth going wider than ever…then let out a shaky, whimpery excuse of a sigh as you realized you HADN’T been cut in half. Your relief was short lived, however, for the Giant had apparently not realized you were hiding in the slice still… …And a moment later – “Oof!” – you were lying half on your side, pinned between a slab of cheese and a slice of honey ham. THWOMPH. “Ngh,” you groaned, as the bread settled around you…and you felt the creature’s hands grip the sandwich tightly. Gravity became a thing of the past, as you felt the sandwich lift into the air. Knowing what was coming, you began to wriggle and writhe as hard as you could; you didn’t care which direction you went – back down towards the table, or up towards the front, it didn’t matter! You just knew you had to get out! With a gasp, you pushed your face past the crust, your head, neck, and shoulders soon poking free of the sandwich…and not a moment too soon. You turned whiter than any ghost, as you found the gaping maw of the Giant facing you. You caught a flash of huge, white teeth, the size of axe blades, and slimy reddish-pink flesh…but you did not take a moment to take in the sights, but screamed shrilly and shut your eyes tightly. You felt warm, ugly breath wash over you, and bawled for dear life. “WAIT!” you wailed. “WAIT, DON’T EAT ME! PLEASE, PLEASE, DON’T EAT ME!” The Giant…froze. The baby blue eyes, which had been closed…fluttered open. The smile on the titan’s face disappeared… …And you panted as he pulled his arm back and looked into his sandwich. Two enormous blue eyes – each almost as large as your whole body, reflected your panicked, desperate, pleading face. You stared at the Giant, and the Giant stared back. Finally, the Giant spoke, his voice filled with disbelief and confusion. “What in the name of…?” The Giant didn’t finish his statement, but instead, lifted his other hand. Huge fingers, thicker than tree trunks, extended towards you. You flinched and shut your eyes again instinctively… …But they opened up again quickly as the fingers grabbed you by the back of your clothes…and fished you out from the sandwich, which he replaced on a plate on the table. “I must be dreaming,” the Giant murmured to himself, staring at you with shock. “Nope. No dream. I’m…I-I’m real…p-please don’t hurt me…” The Giant smiled, eyes brightening up. “Oh, this is AWESOME!” he cheered, and lifted his free hand. You squeaked like a rodent (you were about the size of one, compared to this thing), as he poked you gently, tickling your belly. “Whoa…it’s been FOREVER since I saw a human…and didn’t eat them. Or crush them. Or steal from them. But never mind that.” “I mind it very much!” The Giant just smiled blithely, as if he hadn’t heard you. Instead he leaned closer, and you peeped like a baby bird as he sniffed at you gently. “Hmmmm…you smell nice,” the Giant said. You blinked. You…really didn’t know how to react to that. But the Giant seemed to be eyeing you expectantly, as if he wanted you to say SOMETHING. “Uh…th-thank you? I hope?” The Giant chortled merrily. “Awwww, gee, you’re ADORABLE!” he cooed, as if speaking to a child. “How did you get here, little one? It’s-OW!” The Giant jerked – and you jerked with him, making you yelp – and both of you looked to see Grim leaping from the belly onto the table. A barely visible scratch was left near the brute’s belly button. The Giant pouted, looking hurt and sad. “That wasn’t very nice!” he whined, tugging his shirt down to cover his bare stomach. (You sighed with relief at that; there was only so much eye candy you could take.) He then tilted his head. “Why’d you do that, little friend?” “Stop calling me that!” spat Grim. “Now put my minion down!” The Giant tilted his head the other way…then looked to you once more. “Minion?” he repeated. “It’s a long story,” you sighed. “I like long stories,” the Giant responded, with a bit of a smile. “No one ever tells me any! Let’s start with one now: how’d you get into my sandwich?” “LEAVE THEM ALONE!” “LET THEM GO!” Both you and the Giant looked towards the table again…and you felt relief and joy jump into your heart and mind as Ace and Deuce were suddenly standing on either side of Grim, looking up at the ogre defiantly. “YOU’RE ALIVE!” you cried out, unable to hold back. “Sure we’re alive,” snorted Ace. “You didn’t think I was gonna get eaten with a bunch of sausages, did you? I jumped off the plate and hid behind the salt shaker while he was having the bacon.” “I left the pancakes at the same time; I’ve been behind the pepper,” Deuce added. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” A supersonic squeal tore at all of your eardrums. You covered your ears and looked towards the Giant…who was biting the knuckle of his free hand. You could practically see stars in his eyes. “O. M. GOODNESS!” the ogre “squeed” with joy. “So many new little friends! I’ve never had visitors before! THIS IS AWESOME!” “It would be even more awesome if I could be on solid ground…or at least the table?” you nearly whimpered. You really, REALLY didn’t like dangling up here. The Giant turned his huge, young face towards you…and smiled pleasantly. “Oh! Sure thing, li’l buddy!” he said, sweetly. “Here ya go…” The arm of the titan swung down like a crane. You gasped slightly, collapsing onto your hands and knees, as you finally touched down onto the kitchen table again. Ace, Deuce, and Grim all hurried to your aid. “That was close,” murmured Ace, placing a hand on your back. “You’re not injured?” checked Deuce, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Minion, speak to me!” Grim meowed, pawing at your thigh. You gulped and finally gasped out: “I really…really…HATE it…when I have…those weird dreams…” All three of your best friends smiled…then gasped and hurried to move you out of the way, as a shadow fell across you all. You scrambled to your feet and joined them, turning around…and saw the Giant had laid his head down on the table in his arms, which were crossed. He was giving you all a dopey, happy smile, filled with affection and amusement. You could virtually see little heart shapes in the pupils of his great big baby blue eyes. “Ohhhh, you all look precious!” he crooned. “Gosh…I think I recognize you! You’re students at that school downstairs, yeah? The one where I found my Little Friend?” He jabbed a thumb towards Grim, who hid behind you and glared at the Giant. You reached down, stroking Grim behind his ears, then looked back up at the brawny brute, who was smiling patiently and sweetly. “Y-Yes,” you answered. “We, uh…we used a Beanstalk to get here.” “We came to get Grim back,” Deuce added, in a business-like tone. “Grim,” the Giant repeated softly, and looked towards the tiny, fluffy monster. “Is that your name, little friend?” “Of course it is,” snarled Grim. “Wait…you didn’t even ask or know his name?” Ace checked, seeming stunned. “Nope!” the Giant chirped, not at all bothered. “But I’m glad I know it now! Such a nice name, too…Grim…Grim…a little sad, a little strong, but short and sweet…me likey!” Ace blinked, and leaned towards Deuce. “Did…did the giant literally just say ‘me likey’?” he whispered. “Yes,” sighed Deuce. “Yes, he did.” “What are the rest of your names?” the Giant asked, either not noticing or pretending not to notice the interaction. You introduced yourself and your friends to the enormous ogre, who only smiled wider, his pearly teeth glistening as he seemed increasingly delighted. You could actually hear the “thunkity-thunkity-thunk” his feet made as they no doubt wiggled childishly against the kitchen floor. “Those are all super-cute names!” “No they aren’t!” Ace, Deuce, and Grim all chorused. “Well, I think they are,” the Giant shrugged. “And, uh…wh-what’s your name, Mr. Giant?” you asked, cautiously. The Giant raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Little Friend, please: Mr. Giant is my father. Well…actually, I guess it’s ‘Mr. Géant,’ but…ehhh, they sound close enough,” the handsome ogre shrugged, then sat up straight again, puffing his chest out with pride as he placed his hands on either side of your group on the table. “As for me: call me Billy! Billy Géant!” “N-Nice to meet you, Billy,” you smiled, and you were glad to admit the smile was not as forced as one might have expected. “Nice to meet you all, too! Welcome to my house!” Billy chirruped (which sounded more like he was bellowing, at his size), and spread his arms wide as he gestured around himself. “It’s not much, but I guess it’s good for a rental.” Ace and Deuce blinked, and looked to Grim. “This is a rental?” they whispered in unison, sounding utterly dumbfounded. Grim just shrugged. “Maybe it looks less fancy when you’re his size,” he suggested. You chuckled softly…but your smile soon fell at Billy’s next words. “I’m really glad you’re here! We’re gonna have tons and tons of fun now!” The four of you all looked at each other, then back at Billy. Carefully, you began to back away. “Uh…I-I don’t think we can do that, Billy,” you said slowly…then, all of you stopped, as the hand to your right lifted, creating a barrier. “Why not?” Billy asked, looking a little sad. “Well…um…here’s, ah, here’s the thing,” you stammered, starting to lead your little quartet in the other direction. “We…k-kind of have to go-” “Go?” You all yelped again as, once again, a hand blocked your path. Slowly, you all looked up at Billy, who was smiling somewhat smugly down at your group. “None of you are going anywhere,” he said, and sounded almost playful about it. “Now that you’re all here, I’m gonna have even more Little Friends to take care of and play with and give me tummy rubs!” He leaned down till his head was hovering only about three feet away from you and your friends. “Nobody comes to my home and leaves here. You belong to me now,” Billy Géant said, a low rumble in his voice. “You’re going to stay with me. Forever.”

To Be Continued in Part III…

[tellmealovestory]

A Year In The Life

Summary: 12 drabbles taking place throughout the year

Notes: Also posted on my ao3. I wanted to try something different and this is what I ended up with. 

I’d love to know which one was your favorite - mine was Lost because I had the most fun writing that one.

Warnings: Angst if you squint, fluff, so much fluff, idiots in love, implied sexual content, light sexual content so I’m marking this 18+ only to be safe!

January - Happy New Year

Confetti littered the floor. Colorful balloons hung up on strings and floated to the ceiling. Streamers were strung from one end of the compound to the other. Happy New Year tiaras and party hats dotted everybody’s head, glasses of champagne held in their hands as people clustered around in small groups starting the countdown to the new year. Your own tiara sat crooked on your head, your cheeks warm as you worked yourself around the party with wide eyes looking for Bucky. He had been with you earlier in the night before disappearing, and as the seconds hand on the clock ticked ever closer to midnight you were growing more worried over his disappearance.

“Have you seen, Bucky?” 

“Check the kitchen, might not wanna go in there though he looked a little busy,” Tony chuckled.

His words made you uneasy, they cause your stomach to tighten with worry, your heart to race, your palms to sweat. Pushing your way through the cheering crowd as midnight rings out signaling the new year you stumble into the kitchen. 

“I can not believe you, Bucky!” You snapped.

“It’s not what it looks like I swear,” he said. His cheeks are tinged pink whether from embarrassment or from getting caught you’re not sure and you’re too upset to care. 

“Really? It’s not what it looks like? You know it’s after midnight.”

“It’s past midnight?” Gulping he knows he fucked up, knew it the minute you stormed into the kitchen.

“Clearly you were too busy to hear everybody cheering. You want me to leave you two alone in peace?”

“I’m going to go...,” came the voice of a pretty blonde you had seen once or twice around the compound.

The fork he was holding clinked against the plate as he takes a small step towards you.

“‘M really sorry.”

“Uh huh. That piece of chocolate cake you were devouring says otherwise.”

Offering you a sheepish smile he shrugs his shoulders. Making his way over to you he adjusts your tiara. “Can I make it up to you?”

Tilting your head to the side you pretend to think it over. “I don’t know,” you hummed. “You plan on sharing that cake or?”

“Oh, I plan on sharing more than that cake,” he murmured before brushing his lips over yours in a kiss that’s as sweet as the chocolate frosting that dots his lips. “Happy New Year, darlin’.”

February - Snowed In

“You gonna stand here all night?” Wrapping his arms around your waist Bucky nuzzled his head in your neck inhaling the sweet floral scent of roses that clung to your skin and hair. It makes him miss the warmer weather, makes him miss seeing you in those cute floral dresses you love so much. 

“Maybe,” you teased. “Why? You have something more important planned?” Leaning back against his chest you enjoy both the warmth that radiates from his body and the way the snow is falling from the sky blanketing the city in a heavy layer that will have residents locked inside for at least a day.

“Maybe,” he shot back and the teasing that laces his words has you giggling. 

“Mm well whatever you have planned it’s going to have to be pretty good to get me to leave this window and your arms.” 

Chuckling he pressed a kiss to your neck, his arms tightening around you as he stared out the window. “What if I told you it involved hot chocolate?”

“I’m listening...”

“A movie.”

“Mm depends on the movie.”

“You pick the movie.” He knows you’ll choose something cheesy and romantic. Something you’ve seen a hundred times before and can quote whole scenes by heart. But he doesn’t care. He’d watch anything as long it involved you next to his side.

“Tempting. What else?” 

“What? That’s not enough?” He scoffed, smiling when he hears your soft giggles invading his ears. He’d do anything to hear that sound.

“I don’t know, Bucky. I’ve got it pretty good right here. Watching the snow, being glad that I’m inside instead of out there.”

“A warm blanket. Us cuddled together. I’ll even let you wear one of my sweatshirts.”

Turning in his arms so you’re facing him you smirk. “What makes you think I wasn’t already planning on stealing one of your sweatshirts?” Pressing a quick kiss to his lips you untangle yourself from his arms. “It’s a deal. I’ll grab the blankets and you can make the hot chocolate.”

Ten minutes later you’re curled up on the couch next to Bucky wearing one of his sweatshirts, your fluffiest blanket draped across your lap, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hand as a romantic comedy played on the television in front of you.

“Okay, maybe you were right and this is better than standing in front of the window.”

“Told you so,” Bucky smirked.

 March - Happy Birthday part 1

The kitchen was a disaster. Plates and utensils and glasses and napkins. Boxes and bags and wrapping paper and tissue paper. A half eaten cake. Bottles of alcohol. Streamers that had fallen down from the ceiling cluttered the kitchen table and the floor. 

It was a disaster, but as you stood in the doorway surveying the damage you couldn’t help smiling at the mess. The surprise party you had planned for Bucky had gone off without a hitch. It was nice having your apartment filled to the brim with the joyous laughter of your closest friends. But you had to admit it was equally as nice when it was just the two of you again.

Even though you knew you should clean up some of the mess you shut the light off, heading towards the living room where Bucky sat on the couch.

“You’re wrong you know,” you said, plopping down next to him.

“What?”

Brushing a piece of hair out of his face you offered him a small smile. 

“You’re wrong. About thinking you don’t deserve this. The party. The presents. Everything.” Gesturing to the coffee table where his gifts were spread out to the kitchen where the clean up still waited. You watched his face, watched the way his lips parted in a sigh, watched the way he frowned, his steely gaze staying locked on the floor. 

“You deserve to be happy, Bucky. And you should have at least one fun birthday party. You deserve that too.” Your voice is soft and when his gaze stays locked on the floor you frown hating that even on what should be a joyous day for him he still doesn’t think he deserves to be happy. 

It breaks your heart. But you’ve been with him long enough to know that there’s nothing you can say to convince him otherwise, though that doesn’t stop you from trying.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek you get up from the couch, surprised when you feel his hand wrapping around your wrist. Turning to face him you giggle as he pulls you down on his lap, your legs straddling his waist he buries his head in your neck. His breath his warm, his touch bordering on needy as he pulls you close to him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. 

“You’re too fuckin’ good for me.” His voice is muffled against the skin of your neck, but you’re able to make those few words out. When you scoff he tightens his hold on you. “‘M serious, doll.” 

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Bucky. And I’ve heard you say a lot of dumb things.” The light and teasing tone of your voice has him smiling against you and after a minute he lifts his head up. You can see the storm clouds passing through his darkened eyes and you think you’d give anything for him to be able to see himself the way that you do. 

Pressing your lips against his warm forehead you smile down at him sweetly. “You okay?”

It takes him a moment to answer. A moment that leaves you staring down lovingly at him. The storm clouds that were passing through his eyes earlier have disappeared and been replaced with a doubt that still lingers about his deserved happiness. 

When he does finally answer it’s not with words, but with his lips against yours. Tasting like sugar that’s too sweet and chocolate that’s too rich he swallows your moans. He’s the first one to break the kiss and your eyes flutter open at the loss of his touch.

“You’re too fuckin’ good for me,” he repeated, but this time his words aren’t muffled and there’s only a hint of doubt left lingering in his eyes. Squeezing your waist he offers you a smile, his first real one since everybody left. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

“Luck,” you teased with a shrug of your shoulders. Dipping your head down you capture his lips in another kiss. 

“Speaking of luck birthday boy come on, I’ve got one more surprise for you and it’s in the bedroom.” Climbing off his lap you hold your hand out, giggling when he intertwines your fingers you pull him into your bedroom.

April - Caught In The Rain

“What about ice cream?”

“How are you still hungry?”

“Cause it’s ice cream.” 

You couldn’t argue with that logic. With a shrug of your shoulders and a squeeze of his hand you glanced up at him, rolling your eyes when you see the smile stretched across his face at your non verbal answer.

Though the night air is chilly and the scent of rain strong you can’t deny that ice cream would be the cherry on top of a perfect night out with Bucky. Walking hand in hand through the neighborhood, your pace slow, the conversation light and filled with laughter. 

You’re only a couple blocks away from your favorite ice cream place when the first drop of rain plops onto your head. Glancing up at the sky you frown, your eyes questioning as you glance over at Bucky.

“Was that...?” You started before squealing when another drop lands on your face answering your question for you. 

Standing in the middle of the sidewalk both of you are frozen as the cold rain falls down on you, wetting your hair, soaking through your clothes. 

“C’mon,” Bucky urged. Tugging your hand his strides are long, purposeful as he pulls you through the emptying streets in search of shelter from the rain. 

Struggling to keep up with his pace you gasp in surprise when he pulls you under an awning, your back pressed flushed against the cool brick of a building. His hands run up and down your arms, his touch warming you from the inside out.

“You’re freezing.”

“I’m okay.”

Bucky frowned not believing you for a minute. Despite the hint of a smile ghosting your lips amid his touches he can feel your body shivering underneath his hands.

“You’re shaking,” he pointed out.

“Because you were practically running. You know I hate running.” Pouting you stand on your tip toes moving your lips against his. His lips are warm, wet from the rain, tasting of salt and grease from the french fries you had split earlier in the evening.

“And it has nothing to do with you being cold?” He murmured against your lips.

“Nope. Not a thing.”

For a few moments the noise of the city disappears and it’s only the two of you. Standing underneath an awning on a brisk night in April as the rain pitter patters on the sidewalk there’s no where else you want to be.

You’re not sure how long the two of you stand there, how many kisses are stolen, how many laughs are shared, how many I love yous are whispered, but eventually the rain slows to nothing more than a sprinkle. Enough for the two of you to venture from your spot.

There’s something magical about the ending of a rain storm in the city. The way the sidewalk glitters and glistens when the headlights from taxis hit it. The way the water pools amongst the concrete in small puddles. The way people rush with umbrellas and coats and newspapers hung over their heads in an attempt to remain dry. 

“We should get home before you catch a cold,” Bucky said, his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you closer to the warmth that radiates from his body.

“Thought you were starving for ice cream?” Tilting your head up you watch his lips curl up into a smile, the sight making your heart swell with love.

“Oh, I am, but you’re cold.” It’s not a question, but a statement, one meant not to be argued with, but that doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes as you snuggle further into his warm embrace.

“Uh uh. We’re going for ice cream come on.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, a hint of warning in his voice, but when you see his smile widen ever so slightly when you near the ice cream shop you know you’ve won the battle.

“You wanted ice cream and look we’re already here!” Laughing when he shakes his head you stand on your tip toes kissing his cheek before you step out of his embrace, your hand pulling him into the cool shop before he has another chance to protest.

May - Happy Birthday part 2

“Is this really necessary, Bucky?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously? Can’t I ta-.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“Yes I do and the answer is no.” 

Huffing in frustration you listened to Bucky’s deep chuckle. Standing outside your apartment door with a blindfold over your eyes you shifted your weight from foot to foot restlessly wondering what he’s up to.

Sensing your annoyance he lets his lips ghost over your cheek. His voice is nothing but a hushed whisper when he speaks your name and just like that you can feel your annoyance at his secrecy diminish.

His hand is warm in yours as he leads you into your apartment and with the blindfold over your eyes your other senses are heightened. The first thing you notice is the music drifting through the apartment. The second thing you notice is the smell. Inhaling deeply you pick up the scents of melted cheese and tomatoes and something sweeter and familiar. Flowers. Lilacs.

Knitting your eyebrows together you jump at the sound of Bucky’s voice. 

“Gonna take this off now.” His touch is gentle, his fingertips barely making contact with you as he unties the blindfold. Wrapping his fingers around the material he swallows. 

“Open your eyes, darlin’.”

”Oh, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice cracking on his name. 

The lights in the apartment are dimmed, two long candles sitting on the small kitchen table bathing the room in a soft glow. Sitting in the middle of the table is a bouquet of lilacs in a mason jar filled half way with water. Two plates are set out filled with large slices of lasagna that you know came from your favorite restaurant, the one you were supposed to go out to tonight to celebrate your birthday.

As if reading your mind he clears his throat. “I know you don’t like your birthday and I know we had plans to go out tonight, but when you called during lunch and said you were having a bad day I figured we could stay in. The two of us. Have a nice dinner. Maybe watch a movie. Whatever you wanna do. Tonight’s about you.”

Giving a small shake of your head your eyes dance around the kitchen finally making contact with the small cake that sits on the counter. An arch of your eyebrow has you turning back to Bucky. 

“From that bakery you like so much.”

“Still not sure that the blindfold was necessary.” Is what you finally settle on. The words are teasing because for once you don’t know what to say and you’re worried that you’re going to start crying with how much thought he put into this. Your heart is bursting to the seams with love and need for the man standing before you. Cupping his cheek with your hand you smile up at him. “This is perfect. All of it.”

“Trust me the blindfold was definitely necessary,” he teased before turning more serious. “Happy Birthday, doll.”

June - Sick

“Get away from me!”

“Y/N...”

“No! I’m serious, Bucky!”

“Darlin.”

“No.”

“Sweetheart.”

“No.”

“Doll.”

“No.”

“Baby.”

“No.”

“Cupcake?”

“Stop it.”

“Was that a laugh I heard?”

“No!”

“Hm. Think it was... honey pie, sugar, flour, butter, mil-“

“Now you’re just naming ingredients.” Pulling the covers off your head you glared at him, your gaze dropping to the bottle of vile he holds in his hand. “I’m serious Bucky get out of here.” 

“Sure once you take your medicine.”

“I’m not taking that. It tastes like...” Sneezing you reach for your box of Kleenex laying next to you on the bed frowning when you pull the last one out. “Death. It tastes like death,” you finished, wiping your nose.

“Yeah? How come the bottle says it’s cherry flavored?”

“Cherry flavored death. Have you ever had that? It’s horrible!”

“Anybody ever tell you you get dramatic when you’re sick?” Crossing the bedroom he sits on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on your knee as he holds the bottle of liquid medicine out to you. “Come on, doll, you wanna keep feeling sick?”

Your nose was raw from sneezing and having it run, your throat itchy and sore, your cough seemingly getting worse at night and the cold chills that wracked your body couldn’t even be contained when Bucky wrapped you up in his arms.

Met with silence he smirked as he unscrewed the cap pouring the correct amount into the serving cup. Holding it out to you he gave your knee a gentle squeeze. “Please?”

Glowering at him you reluctantly take the cup. Tipping your head back you quickly swallow the medicine, your nose and eyebrows scrunching up in displeasure as the taste lingers in your mouth and on your tongue.

“Good girl.”

The praise has heat crawling up your neck and cheeks and you don’t miss the way that his smirk widens. 

Placing the bottle on the nightstand table he picks up your empty Kleenex box replacing it with a fresh one.

“Ya know even Stevie made a better patient.”

“Take it back!” You gasped.

“Nope,” he said, popping the p.

Scooting over on the bed you laid back down giving him your best puppy dog eyes until he followed suit. 

“Yeah, but I’m way better at cuddling.” Curling into his side you rest your head on his chest, the rhythmic beating of his heart filling your ears and lulling you into a peacefulness you haven’t felt since catching this stupid cold earlier in the week.

“Dunno ‘bout that. He was pretty good at cuddling too,” he teased, his lips brushing over your forehead. 

“Maybe I should be cuddling him instead of you. I bet he wouldn’t have made me drink death medicine.”

“I don’t think you could handle cuddling two super soldiers, doll. Ya can’t even handle taking medicine.” 

“I can handle taking medicine. Just not that.”

“Would it help if I got you something else?”

Lifting your head up from his chest you survey his expression trying to decipher if he’s joking or not. When you see only sincerity reflected in his eyes you offer him a small smile.

“Maybe..., but I think it would help more if you stay here and cuddle me and not make me take any more of that.”

”I’ll stay, but you’re taking more medicine in a couple hours, doll. No more arguing.”

“Fine.”

Laying your head back down on his chest you close your eyes dreaming up ways to get out of taking more of the death medicine.

July - Fireworks

You checked your reflection in the bathroom mirror one final time. With your lips painted red and your white dress with blue flowers you were a vision of festive patriotism perfect for Steve’s birthday party. Smacking your lips together you shut the bathroom light off before heading into the living room where Bucky sat waiting for you.

“Okay, I’m ready now,” you chirped.

“Fuck, doll.”

“Too much?” Doubt crept into your voice as your eyes darted down to your dress. Toying with the hem you bit your lower lip forgetting about the lipstick you were wearing. “I can go change it’ll only take a minute this time I swear.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growled.

The growl mixed with the squeaking of the couch as he lifts himself up has your head snapping up in his direction. His gaze is dark, predatory and when he licks his lower lip you unintentionally take a small step backwards. 

“Uh uh. You were the one telling me we were going to be late.”

“Don’t care.” In two long strides he’s standing in front of you. Gripping your hips in his large hands he pulls you flush against him earning him a surprised gasp from your red lips.

“That’s not what yo- oh,” you whimpered when he dipped his head down to press a kiss to your neck. 

Slipping his hands down to the back of your thighs he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist automatically. His lips linger on your neck alternating between open mouth kisses and little nips as your hands make their way towards his shoulders. 

“We’re gonna be late,” you pointed out again your words half hearted this time when he gently lays you down on your bed.

Crawling up your body he smirks, his lips ghosting over yours as his fingertips slip under the hem of your dress. “We’ll be quick.”

“I love you, but you’ve never been quick.” 

“Never heard you complain before.“

Rolling your eyes you tug off his shirt. “You’re telling them why we were late.”

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

“Told ya I could be quick,” Bucky murmured against your ear low enough for only you to hear.

“We’re over an hour late that was not quick,” you replied, struggling and failing to keep the smile off your face as you waved to Steve.

“Again I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Stop,” you giggled.

“About time you guys showed up,” Sam grumbled.

“Sorry we’re late.”

“You guys almost missed the fireworks,” Natasha smirked, eyeing your appearances.

Despite combing your hair before leaving the apartment you could tell by the way she was inspecting you that she knew why you guys had been late and your hand flew up to your neck to cover the mark that Bucky had left.

“Why were you guys late?” Sam asked, causing Natasha to snort. 

“We were experiencing our own set of fireworks. In the bedroom.”

“Bucky!”

“Dude gross.”

“You told me to tell them why we were late.”

“I meant lie and say there was traffic not tell them that!” you said, slapping his shoulder.

August - Heat Wave

Fuck New York in August. 

Thick beads of sweat rolled down your cheeks and the back of your neck making your thin tee shirt cling to your slick body. Every step you took on the sidewalk felt like walking through hell and nothing helped. Not taking cold showers. Not eating a diet of ice cream and popsicles and drinking nothing but ice water. Not even staying inside with air conditioning not when the city kept experiencing blackouts and when that happened all that was left was sitting in a darkened apartment stifling with heat.

And it certainly didn’t help with Bucky. On a good day his body temperature ran hot, but in August in New York he was unbearable to be with. Standing next to him made you sweat and forget about trying to share a bed with him.

Sweat trickled into your shoes causing you to whine and with every step you took all you heard was a distinct squishing. Wrinkling your nose in disgust your only hope was that the power would stay on long enough for you to cool down.

“Oh thank god,” you sighed. The cool blast of air conditioning hit you in the face as you entered your apartment. Kicking off your shoes you stripped yourself of your shirt, wiggling out of your shorts you turned to see Bucky standing in the kitchen an amused look on his face. 

“Don’t judge me.” Leaving your clothes in a pile by the door you walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. Placing the bottle on the back of your neck you let out a sigh. The contrast of the cold against your sweaty skin felt like heaven. Closing your eyes you hummed.

“Good thing we didn’t have company,” Bucky snorted, never taking his eyes off of you.

Cracking open an eye you glanced at him smirking. “It’s hot out,” you whined. 

Removing the bottle from the back of your neck you unscrewed the cap drinking half the bottle. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand you took in his appearance. 

“And um hello you’re one to talk walking around in boxers that couldn’t possibly get any shorter. Or tighter.” Shameless in your staring you made no point of tearing your gaze away from the bulge in his boxers.

Raising his eyebrow he took a step towards you watching with amusement as you took a step backwards. With your back pressed against the counter Bucky caged you in with his arms ignoring the pathetic whines that slipped past your lips. 

“Yeah? Not what you said when you first saw me in them,” he murmured, his voice husky as he skimmed his lips down your sweaty neck.

Despite it being too hot you couldn’t help tilting your head back. “That was different.”

His teeth nipped at your neck and your hands instinctively reached out for his shoulders. “How?” Circling his tongue over the slight stinging he reached down for your hips lifting you up effortlessly to sit on the counter. “Weren’t you the one who said they made my ass look good?” 

“I don’t recall.” Threading your fingers through his hair you guided his lips back to yours for a chaste kiss.

“Liar.”

“And it’s too h- fuck not again.” Whining in frustration you dropped your head to his shoulder as the air conditioner sputtered once before whirring to a stop. “I hate this city in the summer.”

“I know, doll.” Pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips he stepped back. “Want me to grab the flashl- Ya know I could have helped you with that.”

Sliding the straps of your bra down your shoulders you shot him a withering look. “Don’t judge me, James! It’s hot in here,” you whined, tossing the offending material to the floor.

“Must be because I’m wearing these boxers,” he teased, shooting you a wink.

“Oh my god, Bucky!” You laughed, hopping off the counter. “Go get the flashlights I’ll get the ice cream before it melts.”

September - Lost

Deep reds, burnt oranges, bright yellows, dark browns, bright blue sky. The smell of burning wood. The satisfying crunch of leaves being stepped on. The gentle breeze that stirred the remaining leaves on the trees to fall and float through the air before drifting in a slow descent to the ground.

As much as you loved living in the city, loved the hustle and the bustle there was something to be said for the quiet peacefulness of the countryside during autumn. 

It was magical. The little roadside stands selling apples and pies and jams and hot apple cider and pumpkins. The trunk of the car was filled to the brim with bags stuffed full with goodies you had begged Bucky you needed. And when he had teased you telling you nobody needed five bags of apples you had added another bag to the pile when he had his head turned.

“Now where?” He asked, his thumbs tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel as the two of you sat in the parking lot of a diner.

Flipping through the pamphlets you had grabbed from the diner you hummed reading through the various list of fall themed events that were scheduled through the next few months in the area.

“Ooh there’s an apple orchard in the next town!”

“Doll, you’ve got enough apples.”

“But-“

“Don’t think I didn’t see you add another bag.”

Rolling your eyes you flipped the page. “In my defense we didn’t go and pick them we just bought them. It’s different when we pick them.”

“No.” 

“Corn maze?”

“Too easy.”

“I didn’t know I was dating an expert at corn mazes.”

Chuckling he reached over plucking one of the pamphlets from your hand. “Not an expert, but darlin’ they’re too easy, we’d be the first ones done.”

“I don’t care. Please? It’ll be fun! And I’ll make it worth your while,” you cooed, leaning across the seat to brush your lips across his in a sweet kiss. “Please, Bucky? For your best girl?”

Closing his eyes he shook his head giving in when he heard the first please drip from your lips. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“Oh, I’m an expert at mazes. They’re so easy. We’ll be the first ones done, darlin’,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. “What happened to that, Bucky? It’s... 7 at night we’ve been lost for three hours! Three hours Bucky!”

“We’re not lost.” Snapping the map open he stopped in his tracks squinting to see in the dusk. It didn’t make sense. Mazes were easy. He didn’t know where they had gotten so turned around.

“We’re not lost,” he said, again shrugging off his jacket and placing it around your shoulders when he saw you shivering. 

“We’ve passed this scarecrow three times, Bucky.”

“We’re lost.”

It wasn’t funny, but you couldn’t help giggling at the situation. 

“Glad you find this so amusing, doll.”

“Come on.” Checking in front of and behind you you reached for his hand pulling him further into the maze when you saw no one around. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips your fingers expertly undid the button and zipper of his jeans. Tugging his jeans down his legs you slipped your hand into his boxers giving him a gentle stroke.

“Y/N,” he gasped. 

“I figure we have at least two more hours before anybody comes looking for us after you got us lost,” you murmured running the pad of your thumb over his slit enjoying the way his body shuddered and his breathing picked up. With your free hand you tugged his boxers down before dropping to your knees. 

“Fuck, I love you.”

“You better Mr. I’m an expert at corn mazes,” you teased, before slipping the tip of him past your parted lips watching the way his head tilted back.

October - Halloween

“Doll,” Bucky whined.

“You promised,” you said, pouting leaning against the bathroom door. “Will you let me see? Please?”

“I look stupid.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

You could hear him shuffling on the other side of the door and just as you were about to knock it swung open revealing Bucky with his hair slicked back. With his face painted white, fake fangs stuck into his mouth and a dribble of fake blood at the corner of his mouth you had to bite back your laugh. It wasn’t that he looked stupid in his white button down shirt, black pants and red cape. Oh, no, he looked hot and if you didn’t have plans to meet up with Sam and Natasha later you would have jumped him. 

“God, Bucky,” you murmured.

“I’m changing.”

“No! You can’t you promised!” Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze you smiled up at him. “You look amazing. I told you you’d make a good vampire and look if I have to wear this stupid nurses costume you can wear this.”

“You’re gonna keep this right?” He asked, his voice husky as he fingered the hem of the short white dress you wearing.

Arching an eyebrow you giggled. “Depends. You going to wear this tonight?”

 “I guess,” he grumbled. 

“Good. It’s settled then. Come on let’s go before all the good candy’s gone.”

 “Dude what the hell are you wearing?” Sam snorted upon seeing Bucky.

“Shut up.”

“No, wait I gotta get a picture of this.”

“I said shut up.”

“I gotta know your thought process on this. Was there a sale at dumb costumes are us? You didn’t have anything else to wear?”

“I think he looks hot,” you purred, kissing his cheek as you handed him a glass of beer that he couldn’t get drunk on. His cheek was covered in a bright red lip stain from your lipstick, but you didn’t bother to wipe it off. You kinda liked it.

Letting out a low whistle Sam smirked. “I get it now. You both picked out each other’s costume. There wasn’t a sale on matching couples outfits?”

“Shut up,” you and Bucky said at the same time.

“Oh, there’s Natasha. I’m gonna go say hi real quick. Can I trust both of you to be nice to each other?” You teased. 

“You must really love her cause you look ridiculous in that.”

“I do really love her,” Bucky murmured, his eyes shimmering with love as he watched your retreating back move easily through the party to Natasha’s side.

November - Burned

Opening the oven door you peeked in at the pies that were turning that perfect shade of golden brown that meant they were almost done. Wiping your flour covered hands on your apron you lifted your wrist up to your forehead wiping away the sweat that had gathered there. 

“Somethin’ smells good,” Bucky murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his head in your neck.

Wrinkling your nose in disgust you tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he only tightened his grip. “I love you, but we both know that it’s not me. Unless you enjoy the scent of my sweat in which case I might have to rethink this relationship,” you teased.

“Maybe I do enjoy the smell of your sweat ever think of that?” He retorted, nipping at your neck playfully.

“Gross,” you laughed. Wriggling out of his arms you glanced over at the clock on the stove checking the time before doing a mental check of how much time you had before you had to be at your parents for Thanksgiving. “When the timer goes off can you take the pies out of the oven so I can take a shower and get ready?”

“Sure. How much longer on the timers?”

“Uh like ten or fifteen more minutes I think? Why?” You asked, untying your apron. “No. Uh uh, Bucky we do not have time for that!” 

“I can be quick,” he cooed, chasing after you as you ran to the bathroom laughing. 

You both knew that there was no way you could outrun him, but that didn’t stop you from trying as your laughter bounced off the walls and echoed around you. 

“The last time you said that we were over an hour late and we can not be late today. I’m serious!” 

“We’re not gonna be late if we conserve water and shower together,” he pointed out, reaching behind you to turn the hot water on. Stripping his shirt off he let it fall to the floor smirking when he caught you staring at his bare chest.

“What about the pies?” No matter how many times you saw him shirtless or naked the sight still took your breath away. He was built like a Greek god. 

“I’ll be quick. Promise, darlin’.”

“Fuck,” Bucky mumbled breathlessly.

Still dazed you tilted your head back against the cool tile of the shower wall a lazy smile curling your lips up. “Mm that’s one way to describe what we just did.”

“No, I mean fuck I forgot about the pies, doll.” Setting you down carefully on the shower floor he grabbed a towel tying it around his waist as he stepped out of the shower and ran into the kitchen.

Still dazed it took you an extra minute for your mind to catch up with what just took place. “Pies? What pi- Oh my god, Bucky!” You yelled. Shutting the water off you grabbed a towel. “You had one job. One job!”

Stumbling into the kitchen water dripping down your body you waved away the smoke that had gathered in the room. Watching dismayed as Bucky pulled out two burnt pies you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or to cry.

“‘M sorry, doll. I’ll run out and get two from the bakery down the street, okay?”

“That is the last time I let you try and tell me you can be quick, Bucky.”

“Let me make it up to you. I swear I’ll be quick this time.”

“You are the worst!” You said, laughing when he made his way over to you.

December - Surprise

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked, whipping the bag he had been holding behind his back and hoping you didn’t notice.

“Last time I checked I lived here,” you retorted, with a roll of your eyes. Shutting the tv off you get up from the couch narrowing your eyes when you see Bucky shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously.

He’d been acting weird for the past couple of weeks. At first you had chalked it up to the stress of the holidays and the longer missions he’d been sent on. When he assured you that wasn’t it it had done little to put your mind at ease. And anytime you brought up his weird behavior to Natasha all she had done was smirk at you and tell you it was nothing. Which had also done nothing to put your mind at ease.

“What’s going on, Bucky?” You asked softly, frowning at him when he wouldn’t look at you. Ice filled your veins, worries and doubts flitting through your mind at lightning speed. “Was it... something I did? Or said?” 

Gnawing on your lower lip you found it difficult to look at him for fear of what would be reflected in his eyes. Even across the apartment you could hear his soft sigh, hear the thud of his boots when he crossed the floor. Smelling his cologne as he neared you still didn’t look up at him. And when he pressed two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up you still fought against it. Stubborn until the end of time.

“Darlin’, look at me.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Ya gonna look at me?”

“Bucky...”

“Y/N...”

Despite your frustration with the situation, with the childish games that were being played you struggled and failed to bite back the smile that was threatening to curl up your lips. You hated when he did this. Hated how even during an argument he still managed to make you smile or laugh.  

“Fine,” you mumbled, giving up and giving in. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

Sighing Bucky shook his head and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. “Tell me,” you demanded, your voice rising with equal measures fear and anger over his secrecy.

“This was supposed to be a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” he started. Licking his lower lip nervously he brought out the bag he had tried to hide behind his arms. 

“And this wasn’t the way I wanted to ask you. I wanted it to be special. Ya know a nice dinner. Do this right. It’s what you deserve. But...”

“You’re rambling,” you murmured, your heart was racing so fast in your chest you swore you were going to pass out.

With shaky hands he reached into the bag pulling out a small square box.

“Bucky...”

Opening the box to reveal a simple oval diamond ring flanked by smaller diamonds on a gold band you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your mouth. Realization at what was in the box, what he was asking you hit you all at once and you felt your knees buckling. Blindly reaching a hand out to steady yourself you gripped his arm stopping him from getting down on one knee per custom.

“Y/N, wi-“

“Yes! Yes a thousand times yes!

“Ya sure? Don’t even know what I was going to ask. Maybe I was going to ask you to try this on see if it’ll fit Stevie’s finger,” he teased, lifting his thumb up to brush away the few tears that had managed to escape your eyes.

“You’re an idiot, Bucky Barnes,” you whispered, with a shake of your head.

“Here I am tryin’ to propose to my best girl and she’s calling me an idiot.” Lifting up your left hand as if it were made of glass he gently slid the ring onto your finger.

Staring down at the beautiful diamond on your ring finger you smiled. “It’s beautiful and perfect and god Bucky I can’t believe this is really happening,” you rambled, your smile so wide it stretched from cheek to cheek and you knew your face would be sore from smiling so much tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

“Nat helped me pick it out,” he murmured shyly. 

“Remind me to thank her later.” 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips against yours sweetly. “And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

[russian-romanova]

the true art of adoration

title: the true art of adoration 

pairing: jack kline

word count: 2.5K

warnings: adult language maybe? probably. 

notes: guess i’m just in a jack mood bois. 

summary: after jack and y/n embark on a brief road trip to an art museum, jack comes to the realization that he might love you more than he previously thought... 

+      +        +

“Hey, Jack, Y/N, family meeting!” Dean’s voice jumped through the hallway and you looked up as if the echo would be the man himself at your doorway. As the words registered, the first thought you had was panic —the sheer panic that came with being a slightly mischievous young adult hearing their name come out of the mouth of an elder, especially when that name is accompanied by that of their usual cohort. 

“Be right there!” You shouted back, hoping that the responseless words were heard. After clicking your phone off, you climbed off of your bed and let your feet hit the floor softly as they adjusted to the cold. Imagining Dean’s patience as a tangible, notable bar that was quickly running to 0% sped up your walk, and you practically fell over in your rush out the door. Jack was just past your door, but the noise turned him around. 

“Do you think we’re in trouble?”

Jack furrowed his eyebrows for a moment as if thinking it over. “Unless they found out about the-” he paused, noticing your slightly raised eyebrows. It took him a moment before remembering what you had called it earlier. “The thing, we should have no reason to be in trouble.”

The thing, as you so lovingly referred to it as, was the result of a well thought out prank against Dean, when you had planted itching powder in his shampoo. It had been horribly mean, but the bottle was almost empty and you weren’t exactly known for thinking through things like that. However, Lady Luck had been on your side and Dean thought it was Sam. Apparently, the younger brother had already pulled similar pranks, so you were confident that Dean would firmly hold to his belief, no matter how much Sam denied it. Sam was sure Dean was making it up, which kept both you and slightly more innocent Jack safe.

You had brought out this other side in Jack recently, through things like these pranks. The side where he would stare at you secretly, when he thought you weren’t paying attention, and an unfamiliar emotion would wash over his face and float through his body like butterflies.

Jack took a quick liking to you, the youngest hunter within the bunker and the first to really reach out to him. Whatever you did, he wanted to do it too; he wanted to experience the same things you did right alongside you. The usually quiet nephilim would be excitable and chatty, words and thoughts coming out unfiltered at a million miles a minute. 

He was quiet now, nervous and watching to gauge your reaction to the Winchester’s words. 

“We’re leaving you two alone,” Dean said, watching your reactions carefully. “We have a hunt and you two don’t need to come.” Jack and you both raised arguments for a brief moment until Sam spoke up. 

“You can come to the next one. You two just seem tired.” 

“I’m not tired, and Jack literally doesn’t sleep. Can we please come?” This was killing you. Hunting was the time you could free yourself, be angry and be focused. You secretly enjoyed hunting, at least when everything went right. To deny you that was… well, it was downright mean. 

“Kid. Come on.” Dean was sitting on the edge of the table, and he uncrossed his legs at the ankle in preparation to hop down. “This is free time. Live your lives. Go on a road trip or something.”

“We’re going to be gone four days, tops,” Sam added, but you didn’t hear him. Dean’s suggestion of road trip had sparked something in you, and you smiled.

“You know, I think we’ll be okay.” You looked at Jack, who met your gaze with confusion. 

  +       + 

A road trip. You had never been on one — a real, fun one, anyways — but you and Jack had that in common. The amount of time you had spent on the road was insane. From the time you used to spend moving from motel to motel before you met Sam and Dean to the time it takes to drive to cases nowadays, you were sure you spent more time in a car than in a bed. Yet none of them had really been road trip style, with snacks and excited chatter.

You had explained your plan to Jack, who seemed intrigued. “I mean, we don’t even have to go that far. I was already doing some research and there’s this cute little art museum about four hours away -- have you ever been to an art museum?”

An art museum? If only. “No,” Jack replied. 

“Okay, well there’s this art museum that doesn’t have anything really famous, but I think it could be cool. I’m open to suggestions, though.”

Sam and Dean hadn’t even technically left yet and you already had a plan. Jack should have expected it from you, really. “I think an art museum sounds…” He searched for the right word. “Nice.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. I mean, this is our break from hunting so it should be something calm and interesting. You’re a thoughtful person, too, so I think you’ll like it there.” 

“I trust you,” Jack looked back to you, excited for the trip now. Out of all of you -- Sam, Dean, Cas or yourself -- he always thought you were the easiest to have fun with, to loosen up around. 

You beamed at him, which made him grin back in response. “Okay. Well, we should pack and just leave tomorrow after breakfast.”

Jack nodded. This was something to look forward to, for both of you. It would be freeing, without the glaring faces of the Winchesters and Castiel, judging every one of your decisions, or the looming threat of a hunt.  Calm was the word that first came to Jack’s mind, a word he used to describe the bunker when everyone was asleep, or the car when they drove at night. This would be calm too, but a different kind of calm, a happier one. 

The drive was phenomenal -- as expected. You had placed Jack in charge of bringing snacks from the bunker since you would be driving, and you were constantly surprised with some of the things he had found. A few things he had brought -- a box of cereal to snack on -- were things you found strange but fun all the same. You had brought a few old CDs to play for Jack, which he enjoyed, before you turned on the radio to listen to a few stations you were sure Dean wouldn’t approve of. 

The motel you decided to stay at was.. interesting to say the least. It gave you strong ‘60s vibes, with it’s bright green and yellow dots with a vaguely obnoxious light blue background. Poor Jack was practically frightened by the overwhelming color combination versus the neutral colors the bunker was full of.

The art museum was breathtaking. You had made a good choice, choosing to go on a Thursday when many people were at school or work. It wasn’t very busy, just quiet and low-stress. Jack and you moved from painting to painting in no particular order, moving across the room to point out the ones that caught your eye. Jack seemed drawn to paintings of people that were more realistic, while you were drawn to fascinating mixes of bold or distinct color. It took what felt like years, but you finally found one that took both of your breaths away. 

“‘The True Art of Adoration,’” You read aloud, flicking your eyes back up to the large painting. “It’s really pretty.”

Jack nodded in agreement, lost in thought. “It’s very… big.” 

Looking back at Jack, you nodded in tasteful agreement. The painting was of a man and a woman, the latter of the two staring at who you presumed to be her sleeping lover. Eyes filled with sappy care, she had a small smile painted on her lips. It carried with it the romantic feel of those older paintings, with the biting fire and fanciful dresses, the woman’s dark hair falling casually around her shoulders. The attention to detail was insane, the color blending magnificent. It was like looking at a picture, but it was almost warmer and more welcoming than a picture, pulled together in a golden frame. 

“We should get some paintings for the bunker.” You stated, backing up a little so you were next to Jack again. “Not here, obviously, but we should keep our eyes open.” 

“Sam suggested that to Dean once,” Jack recalled. “Dean said the bunker didn’t need any art.”

“He’s probably afraid it will make it less manly.” You chuckled. Then, in response to Jack’s subtly furrowed eyebrows, you explained, “Less tough.” 

“I don’t think art is less manly.” Jack murmured.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Dean’s wrong about a lot of things. But, hey, I bet with both of our powers of persuasion we can get him to give in.”

Jack turned his head to looked at you. “Okay.” 

Jack understood love, or at least he thought he did until now. He loved you, but the word didn’t seem right in his mouth. Love, to Jack, was what Sam and Dean’s rare hugs were doused in, what Castiel’s words of affirmation to Jack were, what washed over Mary’s face when she talked about her boys. No, this wasn’t love exactly, this was more…

Adoration. The way you had said it echoed in his head, bouncing from thought to thought. He could hardly go a minute without thinking about adoration, and you, and if this was one of those emotions that you keep deep inside of you to one of those emotions you shout about to everyone. 

Adoration. It made Jack Kline feel all bubbly inside, and that’s how he knew it was the right word. He adored you, and when the two of you had arrived home, he brought up the idea to Dean. The elder hunter had grinned. “Adoration, huh?” 

Jack nodded confidently. “Yes. I’ve looked a lot for the right word.” 

“Okay, stop looking. Trust me kid, when it comes to love-”

“Adoration.”

Dean pursed his lips, amused. “Adoration, yeah. When it comes to adoration, just go with your heart. No books, no Google or whatever, just what you feel is right.” 

“What I feel is right,” Jack repeated slowly, feeling the words on his tongue. 

“Yep,” Dean nodded, watching Jack. “Do you wanna tell her?”

The nephilim considered this possibility. The thought made him feel nervous -- an emotion he recognized. “I-” Jack began speaking, but paused. “I don’t think I want to.”

Dean smiled knowingly. “You nervous?” 

Jack nodded. “Yes. And scared.”

“That’s normal.” Dean raised his eyebrows, the situation striking him as almost funny. “But you have to think -- will the reward be worth the risk?”

Now Jack had to think about this. From his point of view, this would go one of two ways. The better of the two options -- Jack would sit down and tell you, and you would tell him you feel the same way. Or -- and Jack was frankly scared to think about this one, but it seemed less likely in his research from movies -- you would tell him you thought of him as a friend and things would be awkward forever. The easiest option seemed to be letting everything stay the same forever, but that was also painful -- and with Dean knowing, possibly not an option for long. So he would tell you, and from there assess the outcome. “I think so.” 

Dean grinned. “You bet. Now you just go for it and tell her.” 

“How?” 

“Just go with your heart,” Dean repeated his earlier suggestion, and Jack nodded. He would go with his heart then, and try his best. 

Jack found you in your room, music playing softly as he knocked on the door. You told him to come in, and he opened the door cautiously. You were on your bed, legs crossed with some unfamiliar lore book on your lap. “Hey, Jack. What’s up?” 

Comfortably, Jack sat next to you as he had a hundred times before. “I wanted… to talk to you.” Despite his nerves, Jack held eye contact with you. It relaxed him to say this to you, not the floor. 

“Yeah?” Now you were a little nervous. Never in your life had someone led a casual conversation with ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ most certainly not Jack. 

“I, um-” Jack searched for words. ‘From the heart,’ he reminded himself.  “I adore you.” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but this was certainly not it. 

“I adore you,” Jack continued. “For a while, I thought I loved you but then I had to look at the word and I realized that wasn’t right. I’m still working at words, there’s just so many of them, but this is one I know for sure is right.” 

You let a breath out you didn’t realize you had been holding in when he paused as if waiting for an answer. “Oh, Jack,” You said through a breathy sigh, unsure of what else to say. “Jack, I adore you too.” 

He took a moment to take this information. His face lit up when the words of confirmation hit him. “Really?”

The first words that came out of your mouth were almost sarcasm, but you quickly thought better of it. “Yeah. Jack, I think I’ve adored you for a year.” It was honest and raw, and you could feel your face going red. You thought the word choice was endearing, and it echoed in your head. Adore. 

“I-” Jack found himself tripping over his words, thinking he knew what to say and then forgetting. His mouth was going twice as fast as his brain, and he quickly blurted out, “Can I kiss you?” The words were familiar, but the action was most certainly not. Jack had seen kisses in movies -- the careful, elegant process of touching lips -- but had never kissed someone in real life. He panicked for a moment, unsure of words or actions. 

But then you nodded and smiled, and leaned in to kiss him. Very quickly, Jack discovered that it wasn’t difficult or confusing to kiss, rather it was natural. It was natural, and it was exhilarating. Why hadn’t he done this earlier?

When you were satisfied, you brought your head back to smile at Jack. Adore. The word echoed in your mind as you glanced between his eyes, his smile matching yours. Adore. 

You could get used to adoring Jack Kline.