#what is with the editing in the last gif with the fridge part??

[mayasdeluca]

MAYA AND CARINA STATION 19: 7x07 'Give It All'

[yooglefics]

Reveal — Part two: editing

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader )  Wordcount: 1,735 words Genre: 18+, mdni, remainder to not use fanfics as your only source of sex ed. Summary: Yoongi is just helping a friend help you, but is he even supposed to listen to this?. Part 2 of Reveal: recording. Read it for context. This is just why and how we got to that ending. More warnings under read more.

Includes: Mentions of selling sex content. People recording sex acts. Mentions of sexual activity ( doing things and also talking about doing things and thinking about doing more things ). Mentions of past and not past masturbation ( f and m ).  Dirty talk? I guess?. Sprinkle of possessive yoongi? Is not my fault i sweaaaar Author's note: Remember when I started writing something short and silly lmao, what a time. Btw, I have never used OF so if something I say about how they use the website is actually not true / completely wrong just pretend please lmao. Anyway, I thought it'd be fun to write Yoongi's side, hope you like it! If you do please remember to leave a comment, reblog, ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

Saturday is probably Yoongi's favorite day of the week. No waking up early, no work, and not worrying about having to do any of those the next day.

That's why he groans when his phone rings with messages from Jungkook. He knows is him because he is the only one who still insists on sending him a million messages instead of just one. 

Love the guy, but he can be annoying.

The fifth ring comes and hopping is the last one, Yoongi finally reaches for his phone and rolls to his back. 

JK: hey JK: are you awake? JK: and free today? JK: i need a favor JK: yoongi?

Yoongi: with what? If I have to leave my house is probably a no.

Both of them know that actually, even if it ruined his plans of relaxing, he would say yes. Because that's what friends do.

JK: no no. You can do it at your house  JK: I need to edit an audio for my friend JK: but I'm on the schedule today JK: and if I don't send it back quickly she will back out JK: please? 

Yoongi: ok. Send it to me. Yoongi: you own me, tho.

Throwing his phone on the bed, he gets out of it to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, getting ready to sit in his studio for at least an hour. He knows is probably a bit extra to use his expensive equipment for whatever this favor is, but if he is going to help, he is going to do it right.

Opening Jungkook's messages on his laptop, Yoongi almost wants to laugh at himself.

JK: [ killmepls.mp3 ] JK: is and OF thing, btw JK: don't listen to it in public lol

Yep, definitely Poducer Min equipment is too extra for this. But, fuck it.

The archive is already downloaded when he opens the software, starting a new project and naming it the same as the audio plus final, to not get confused. Plugging in his headphones he starts playing it, already noticing whoever this is, is pretty quiet at the beginning and he would most likely have to cut it off, still, he listens to make sure.

A few taps followed by a “hi..” is the start, and he chuckles at their giggles.

He decides to let that in, but cuts the next few seconds where only their breathing can be heard along with some clicking and fabric moving. Is too long of a pause for this kind of thing and the clicking gives a way they weren't ready to start. Sure they wouldn't mind.

They put music on? It sounds familiar but is pretty fade out, so he can't really be sure, and then “This angle is kinda…” 

That's him.

That's his voice.

“Hot,” the voice continues before he can rewind.

“You can't tell me I'm mean anymore. I'm spoiling you,” his own voice travels again on his headphones. “I'm giving you this view and I'm giving you what's probably the thing you all ask the most: hands.”

What is this? Some kind of joke?

Did Jungkook put them up to this?

“I hate him. I'm gonna sue him,” 

That gets a laugh from him, even if he is still confused about what is happening.

Maybe it's just his imagination?

Should he ask his friend?

More movement of fabric. Maybe bed sheets or clothes. More breathing, a bit faster than last time and then, a groan. 

He can leave that in.

Wait, that's right. He is supposed to be editing this. He has to go back and…

“This angle is kinda…” his voice says and he hits pause. Is really him. Is that possible?

He feels like he is imagining things.

“Jungkook, I swear if this is some kind of joke or something,” he rambles taking his phone out.

Yoongi: did you listen to it?

JK: no, didn't have time JK: why? something wrong? JK: don't tell me it can't be used JK: she is gonna be sad :(

Yoongi: who is she?

JK: dunno if i can tell you 

Yoongi: technically I'm doing a favor for her. I think is fair 

JK: good point JK: is afterhours(y/n)

He opens a new tap on his laptop, goes to the website and searches for the username through his followers. And sure enough there it is. Subscribed a month ago.

He clicks to see your perfil. The first post he can see without being subscribed is a picture of a lilac lingerie set on a bed with the caption “very early birthday present”, from a week ago. 

He considers subscribing to see more, but he stops himself from clicking, remembering Jungkook didn't even want to tell him who you were. Oh, shit. What would you do if you knew it was him editing your audio? Would you back out? Or be sad?

Now it feels kind of wrong, like if he were invading your privacy.

He clicks around on his computer again, audio track back to the zero seconds mark. He hears the “hi” and the giggles and stops it before his voice appears. 

“Okay, this is going to be posted. It was recorded with the intention of being posted for people to hear,” he reasons. “If it's not posted I'd just forget about it and if it is… I'd… subscribe? To make up for listening?”

Clearly that part is not completely made up on his mind, but he doesn't have to decide what to do right now, he has to finish editing. And so, Yoongi clicks around the software again, cutting and deleting another section, the one where you can hear his voice and even his music before.

That's it. It was a familiar track because it is his. He composed that himself to put in the background of his videos exclusively. He figured putting his own touch would help if something was posted outside his page, never imagining hearing it in the background of someone else's video or audio was even possible.

It shouldn't affect him this much. After all, people touching themselves to his videos is half the reason he likes making them. What can he say? Is a turn on to have that effect on others, it builds his confidence up.

But actually hearing it is different. 

Groan and fabric moving, a bit too close to the mic he considers doing something about it, but “I want you to touch me,” is the perfect whisper. Just the right volume, just the right words.

No more audio of SugaD can be heard now, you probably turn down the volume of the video or pause it. Yoongi is curious about it. The idea of your sounds being a reaction to his past self is doing things to him, and Yoongi would like to ignore them before getting too distracted, but is kind of a boomer not knowing exactly what your reactions are for.

Maybe he can open his video, it wouldn't be hard for him to synchronized it with your audio and—

No.

That would cross the line. Is enough that he—

“Are you hard?” your voice continues, timidly he thinks. 

Is this your first time doing this? That's why you couldn't edit yourself?

What would you do if you knew he was listening and his dick was calling for attention at all your little sounds?

He stops your recording, considers taking a break, going back to bed. But he knows just forgetting about this would be hard and in the end he would have to come back and finish helping.

He unpaused it.

More moans echo throughout his headphones and he fixes them on top of his head, as if that would help him concentrate. You just sound so pretty, and when you plead he wants to give you anything you ask for, his dick twitching with desire.

He could just— no. That'll be wrong. Is enough he is letting it affect him this much, he can't just—

His leg bounces under his desk, hand glue to his mouse even when he is just listening now. Only stopping and going back a couple times to fix the volume of background noise, making it less or more obvious depending on the flow or your moans.

A groan of his own cuts the silence in his studio when you form words again. “It feels so good, oh god.” And Yoongi wishes he knew what. Wishes he could see you, could touch you. Could make you sound and feel that good in person.

“Uh uh,” short moans leave your lips, and it sounds so much like you're agreeing with his thoughts he really considers sneaking a hand down his pants. Allow his mind to wander and imagine what you would look like under him. Or on top. Or just coming undone by him.

But he doesn't. He just listens to your recording, your breathing, your pleas and your cut out warning when you cum.

“Fucking hell,” Yoongi angrily whispers. And for a second he considers doing the SugaD special of cutting it out of the final audio, but that's too selfish.

Or perhaps is more selfish leaving it. Considering he wants the world to hear how you sound when listening to him.

Yoongi managed to leave the studio without touching himself. But is not really as impressive as it sounds since his hand is on his dick the minute he goes back to bed after listening to the final edit of your audio one last time. The excuse of being just to make sure is perfect is just that, an excuse. And your pretty sounds replay on his head while he jerks off until orgasm.

JK: thank youuuu JK: she says thank you too!

Does that mean you know he was the one editing it?

He opens the app on his phone, looks for your perfil again and debates a couple minutes his options. 

What's the worst that can happen? You blocking him? He would understand, but if he actually doesn't do anything, doesn't play his chance, he wouldn't forgive himself.

And so, he subscribes. Page refreshes instantly and a new post greets him.

[ afterhours(y/n):

Surprise, surprise. Is my birthday month but I keep spoiling you, ain't I the best? 😝 

      [ VoiceReveal.mp3 ]

                                                                         ]

Doesn't even have to listen to it, his fingers move on their own, “the cutest”, he comments.

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri ,

( is hereee! I appreciate u guys hehe <3 ) ( if anyone else wants to be tagged in the future, let me know )

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part three. | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

[elly-grace]

His world

Idk what to name this one lol also not edited at all

Pairing: Joe burrow x reader

Warning: not eating, mean comments

Word count: 1176

The day started off like any other day. Joe wakes up to the sun shining through the window, then gets ready for practice. After Joe is ready he wakes you up with a good morning kiss, then after a short conversation heads to practice. This was normal, it was the status quo, it was routine.

But the status quo was broken after Joe left for practice, you felt off. You felt like crying, the hate from Joe's fans was really starting to get to you. There have been so many rumors about you and Joe recently. The main three were; cheating allegations, an engagement, and pregnancy. None of which were true, you would never cheat nor would Joe. You and Joe have been together since freshman year of college. Neither of you ever thought of cheating on the other in all the time you've been together. There's no engagement, at least that you knew of. But the pregnancy rumor hurt the most, you knew why it was being thrown around. You had been gaining a little weight, which you were self conscious about.

The comments flowed through your head.

‘She's so ugly! Like gross.’

‘She’s getting really fat, must have had to get pregnant for Joe to stay with her sorry ass.’

‘Joe can do so much better than her’

You felt the tears well up in your eyes.

“What if Joe leaves you?”

With that thought the floodgates were opened. Part of you knew that Joe would never leave you, he loved you with his entire heart. His world literally revolved around you, he didn't know how to do what he loved without you in his life. You two have been part of each other's lives since birth. Robin and (your mom) had been friends since childhood, which forced you to be friends. Joe was the built-in best friend, always there for you, and you were the same for Joe.

The other part of you thought the comments were factual. With you gaining weight you've been having troubles feeling comfortable in your body. It didn’t make you feel ugly just different. You knew Joe could have literally anyone he wanted, he could do better than you.

You try to calm down and take a few breaths coming back to rational.

You walked to your closet and found your oversized hoodie and a pair of leggings to change into. Then sluggishly made your way down the stairs then into the kitchen. Making your way to the fridge, you open it but then the fat comments come to your head. Deciding you would just skip breakfast you close the fridge. You check time seeing it was almost 9 which meant the other WAGs would be calling you soon. As if on cue your phone rings, it was Jess, Sam's fiance.

“Hey, are you coming out with us today?”

“Hey Jess. I think I am going to stay home.”

“You sure? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just not feeling good today.”

“Okay, call us if you need anything.”

“Okay, have fun!”

You said then hung up.

You started to do some house work around the house. You cleaned the entire house, starting in Joe's office and finishing in the basement. When you finished cleaning it was already noon meaning Joe would be home soon. You head to the kitchen to start making lunch for him, deciding to make a chicken caesar salad. You finished plating the food as soon as he walked in the door. He made his way to the kitchen and saw you and moved towards you to give you a kiss.

“Hi, baby. Have you been crying?” his eyes were fixed on your doleful looking face.

“Maybe.” you just shrugged, “it doesn’t matter.” as tears weld in your eyes.

“It does! It matters, why are you crying?” he said in a voice the told you he wasn’t going to stop until you told him.

“I’m getting so much hate. People say I'm ugly, fat, and you could do better than me. Which don’t say the last one isn’t true.” You looked down. Joe instantly made you look back up at him by putting his fingers under my chin. Noticing that my hair was messy and all over he moved some of it out of the way.

“Listen to me please, I love you, only you. You are beautiful, I don’t care that you're gaining weight, it means you're healthy.”

Your stomach starts to growl. Joe gives you a sad look.

“When did you eat last?”

“Yesterday”

“When? Cause you barely touched your dinner.”

“Breakfast was the last full meal.”

“You need to eat.”

You sighed but you would do anything for him. He was the love of your life.

“Okay” you said and started walking to the fridge when he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

“Wait, I'm not done. I’m never going to leave you, never let those comments get to your head.”

He gave you a passionate kiss, then walked away. A few seconds later he comes back with something in his hand.

“This is definitely not how I wanted to do this but.” He spoke getting down onto one knee.

“Joe?” You were shocked.

“Y/n m/n l/n, I can not fathom my life without you in it. You’ve been here since day one, literally day one. You're the only constant thought in my mind. Every Injury, every bad day you’ve been there. You're it for me, it’s always been you. It took us 18 years to finally get together but I knew in middle school when that guy broke your heart. When I saw you crying I wanted to beat him up for hurting you. Now here we are 9 years later, I don’t think I can spend another moment of you not being mine forever. You are my world, my best friend and hopefully soon my Fiancé.” The tears that have been welling in your eyes finally fell.

You nod “yes”

Joe slides the ring onto your finger and stands and gives you a hug and then a kiss.

“I love you Joe”

“I love you too Y/n. I’m going to address the fans about the hate today when I go on ‘New Heights’.”

“Thank you.” You gazed at his face with his beautiful smile plastered upon it.

“How about you come with me?”

“Will Travis and Jason allow that?”

“They will, they’re pretty laid back.”

You nodded and soon you were in joes car with him.

“Welcome to the pod Joe, I hear you got some exciting news” Travis said

“Yeah, as of today I am an engaged man.”

“What, congrats man!” Jason yelled.

“Thanks guys, but I’d also like to address one more thing before we start.”

“Yeah go ahead.”

“So my fiancé has been receiving some pretty brutal hate from some of my fans recently. I just want to say that she is beautiful the way she is, and I love her more than anything in the world. Please stop hating on her.”

Requested by: @funnyjb

Hope you enjoy!

[morgana-larkin]

Hey! Are you still taking prompts? If yes, can you write about r, a librarian that's like a ray of sunshine to everyone at Abbott. But not too much ray of sunshine like Janine and Jacob (more like UV light jk). Then one day, r arrived at Abbott so quiet, not in her usual self,like her sun is heavily clouded. In the break room she's like spacing out, they noticed it and when they asks her if she's alright she would just look at them with a neutral reaction and not talk to anyone,as in anyone much to Melissa's dismay as she tries to make you talk. She misses you talk about your day when she visits you at the library before leaving. Mr. J notices, since r usually gives him a high five when she sees him in the hall way. Even Ava, as she made a joke and everyone laughed but you just gave her a blank stare and leave the break room. They thought r just needs space so they let her be. Then a day of being like that became a week, shutting people down and now the staff are worried, so Melissa decided to finally take the matter in her hands and helps R to finally snap out of the state she's in.

Thank you so much for this prompt! And yes my inbox is open for prompts. I thought this idea was cute and I hope you like it. Not edited in the slightest. I wrote this in more of Melissa’s POV but I don’t think any of you will mind.

Her Poco Sole (little sunshine)

Warnings: reader trapped in their head but that’s pretty much it.

Words: 2.6k

It’s Friday morning and you walk into Abbott with a smile on your face as always. You’re the librarian at Abbott Elementary and you love it. The kids are great, the staff is amazing, and you’ve never been happier. You see Mr Johnson and as always you raise your hand up for a high five and he happily gives you one.

You arrive in the break room and everyone is already there. You cross the break room to the fridge to put your lunch in there. “Good Morning everyone. Any weekend plans?” You ask everyone as you go to make a coffee.

At that, everyone shares any interesting plans that they have for the weekend. As you finish making your coffee you go to sit at Barb and Melissa’s table like always as Jacob finishes telling his plans and you smile at him as you listened.

“What about you Melissa? Got a hot date? Tv marathon? Seeing family and friends?” You ask her and she looks at you with a smile.

“What makes you think I have a hot date?” She asks.

“A little presumptuous of me then, alright got a normal date then?” You ask her and she snorts.

“You’re such a goof. No date this weekend. Unless you count my couch.” She jokes and you laugh.

“I would think that counts as a date.” You tell her. Then you engage in conversation with Melissa and Barb until the bell rings, and you all get up to start the day.

The day goes by and it’s spent organising and checking out books for kids. At lunch, you head to the breakroom and get your lunch and sit at your regular seat, beside Melissa, and start eating. The rest of the crew comes in a couple minutes later, as well as Ava.

“Hey y/n, I’m going to the club tomorrow tonight, wanna come?” Ava asks.

“Ava, the last time I went with you, you forced me to talk to a girl there and she was straight. So I think I’ll say no.” You tell her with a shake of your head. Ava looks at you and laughs.

“What if I promise that I won’t force you to talk to any girls?” She asks.

“I think I’ll sit this one out Ava, I got big plans to laze around and do nothing.” You tell her.

“You and I got similar plans, we should do it together.” Melissa says and you look at her with a smile.

“You got a date though.” You joke with her and she laughs.

“Hun, I can drop the date with my couch if I wanted, I’m sure it won’t be disappointed.” She says and you roll your eyes.

Lunch ends and you all get up to finish the second part of the day.

At the end of the day, you’re putting a book back in its rightful place when Melissa walks in.

“Hey you.” She says as she walks in.

“Hey yourself.” You reply back to her with a smile.

“How was your day?” She asks.

“It was good.” You then proceed to tell her all about your day. You tell her interesting things that the kids said or did, interesting gossip from teachers and everything else in between. Melissa looks at you the entire time with a smile as she listens. She always loves it when you tell her about your day, you always talk so passionately. “Anyway I’m rambling, how was your day?” You ask her.

Melissa proceeds to tell you all about her day as you both exit the library and you lock up. This is a little routine you both have at the end of the day. You both look forward to it, you tell each other every little thing about your day as you walk to you cars.

Melissa didn’t like you at first, she thought you were too cheerful and happy like Janine is. But she learned that while you are cheerful, it's not annoying like it is with Janine or even Jacob. She learned to love how happy and nice you are with her and everyone else, poco sole she likes to call you, which is little sunshine.

You end up just staying at your place that weekend instead of taking Melissa up on her offer, you sometimes do and you both always enjoy it.

Then Monday morning comes, and you drag your feet in through the doors of Abbott, the usual smile on your face is replaced with a frown. You pass right by Mr Johnson and you don’t offer a high five and he looks at you weirdly.

You enter the break room and you cross over to the fridge to put your lunch and get a coffee. Everyone sees that you don’t have a pep to your step and your usual smile. As you get your coffee ready, you're looking at your phone as Melissa speaks up.

“Hey poco sole, you alright there?” She asks and you look up at her then go back to your phone without answering her. She looks at you confused, as well as everyone else. Once your coffee is done, you pour it in your mug then you sit down at your usual spot. Melissa looks at you as she tried again.

“How was your weekend?” She asks you. You just look at her and shrug. Melissa looks at Barb worriedly. You’re never like this, this isn’t you. Before anyone could say anything else, Ava walks in and she pours some of the coffee in her mug.

“Y/n, there were a lot of cute girls at the club, you missed out, although I would have had you do karaoke.” She says and everyone laughs, they know you’re a bit shy singing in front of a crowd. Everyone laughs except you, you just look at Ava with a blank stare and then get up and leave. You pass by Mr Johnson on your way out and once again, you don’t offer a high five.

“What’s going on with y/n? She doesn’t seem like herself.” Mr Johnson says and everyone looks at Melissa who’s the closest to you.

Melissa doesn’t know, you were fine on Friday, and you two texted on Saturday and Sunday like always and everything seemed fine. “I- I don’t know.” Melissa says and she’s worried about you. She’ll try again at lunch, maybe you’re just not having the best morning, it happens to everyone she thinks.

At lunch your mood didn’t change, in fact it seemed it got worse. You seemed like you were in your own head the entire time, and if anyone talked to you or asked a question, you would just stare at them for a few seconds and go back to what you were doing or just ignore them. Everyone decided that maybe you just need some space as maybe you’re having a rough day but then you’ll be back to your usual smiling self tomorrow.

You were not back to your smiling self tomorrow. You came in again the same way, Mr Johnson sees you and you’re still not smiling and he sighs. Everyone else in the break room stopped what they were doing when you walked in. They all hoped you would be back to yourself again but no. Melissa was getting worried, she went to the library after school yesterday like always and you had already left. She didn’t like seeing you like this, the worst part is you didn’t seem sad, you seemed disconnected, like you aren’t even here. You were supposed to be her poca sole and right now you aren’t, and it broke her heart a little.

Melissa knew she had gotten feelings for you, I mean how can she not when you are how you are. Always smiling when you talk to someone, always listening to people talk with 100% of your attention, and she loves how passionate you are about even the smallest things. You always brought a smile to her face, no matter the mood she was in, and she wanted to do that for you.

At lunch she went to the library when you didn’t show up and when she tried talking to you, you just looked at her with a blank stare and went back to what you were doing. She gave up after several attempts and went to talk to Barb, “maybe she just needs some time Melissa. I’m sure she’ll be back to herself when whatever it is passes” Barb told her. So Melissa did just that. She didn’t talk to you when you sat down, she didn’t go to the library after school, she didn’t text you that she got home safely like always, that usually sparks an hour conversation over text.

And soon, the week goes by and it’s Friday and you’re still not back to yourself. Melissa misses you, she knows that you’re going through something and you’re not telling her, you and her tell each other everything. So she takes matters into her own hands. Friday after school, she goes home and grab’s leftovers from yesterday and then heads to your place.

She knocks on your door and you answer about 30 seconds later. And you have the same look on your face as you have had at school all week. Still she gives you a smile and offers food. And you just stare at her, not talking.

“Can I come in? I can heat this up and we can eat and watch tv.” You just step aside to let her in, Melissa thinks it’s a start, she will literally take anything.

Melissa heats up the leftovers and puts half on a plate for you and half on another plate for herself. She comes to the couch where you already are and she hands it to you with a smile. You take it from here with just a simple “thank you.” Even when you seem disconnected, you will always say thank you, it’s automatic. And again, Melissa will take it. She misses you so much that a simple ‘thank you’ from you makes her happy.

After you both finish eating and the episode of the show you're watching ends, Melissa has had enough. She sets the plates down on your coffee table, turns off the tv and looks over at you. You just stare at her with that blank expression you’ve had all week.

“What’s going on with you y/n? You seem so disconnected that it feels like you’re not even here even though you’re sitting right beside me. And not just today, you’ve been like that all week. You don’t talk to anyone anymore, you don’t come in with your bright smile and uplifting spirit. Mr Johnson says you don’t give him high fives anymore and you don’t laugh at Ava’s jokes like you usually do. And you know what? I miss you, I miss when you come in with that beautiful smile and ask me anything, our conversations at lunch , and especially our chats after school when I come and visit you in the library. And I also miss our little texting chats after school and on the weekend I miss hanging out with you or texting you.” She finishes and when she looks at you , you’re still just looking at her with that blank stare, the only difference is that you keep looking down at your hands.

And that makes Melissa break, she starts crying. You don’t know what to do, you’re not yourself right now but to your core you’re still her poco sole. You put one of your hands in hers and then you just continue to stare at nothing in front of you, still holding her hand.

Melissa is surprised when you hold her hand and it makes her stop mid sob and she sniffs. She realises that you’re still there but maybe trapped in your own mind. She’s heard about people that have done that , and they said that they just woke up unhappy about anything for no real reason and they detach themselves from reality. She remembers that a shock helped them, something that broke them out and snapped them back to reality, something real. So Melissa does the first thing she thinks of, she reaches over , pulls you to her and embraces you in a tight hug. “Please come back to me y/n, please.” Melissa begs while still hugging you.

And then she feels arms wrap around her, hugging her back. She pulls back to look at you and you have the smallest little smile she’s ever seen and your eyes aren’t blank. “Y/n?” Is all she says.

You look at her. “Hi Melissa.” You say. And she covers her mouth in shock and happy tears start rolling down her face. You’re coming back to her. She gets so excited that she leans over and kisses you on the lips and you freeze for a second, you pull her more to you when she goes to pull away and you kiss her back. And Melissa melts into the kiss, she’s been missing you all week and kept her feelings to herself about you for about 4 months. And while she’s happy this is happening, she wants to make sure she truly has you back. She pulls back and looks into your eyes, and she sees the familiar light behind them you always had and she smiles at you. “You came back to me.” She says and for the first time in a week, you smile at her, your usual genuine smile. “Are you ok?” She asks you suddenly.

“I think I am now. I didn't know what was going on, I woke up and suddenly felt nothing, I didn’t feel anything and it scared me but it didn’t stop so I guess I hid in my own mind, tried to find something, feel something. And then I saw you crying and a spark came, a spark of sadness and so I held your hand, and then you hugged me and my whole body

felt happiness again. The kiss was a nice add on. You tell her and she looks at you smiling, she’s glad to have her poco sole back.

Monday morning, you walk in the entrance with a smile and your usual pep to your step is back. You see Mr Johnson and he looks up and sees you smiling. You then raise your hand for a high five and he excitedly gives you one, happy that your back.

You walk into the break room and everyone is either on their phones or talking to each other, Melissa sees you though and she smiles at you, and you smile at her. You walk over to the fridge “hey everyone, did you have a nice weekend?” You ask and everyone looks up at you and sees you smile as you pour some coffee in your mug. And everyone smiles at you.

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jacob says and you nod as he runs over and gives you a hug. “We were worried about you!” He says

“Ik, I hope I didn’t freak you out too much.” You joke as you sit in your usual seat. You look a Barb who gives you a smile with a “welcome back sweetheart.”.

Melissa is still looking at you with a smile. She then tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and you smile at her. Everyone sees the interaction and smiles then goes back to what they were doing.

Melissa doesn’t care if they know, all that she cares about is that you came back to her, her poco sole.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta ,@imaginesmultifandoms

If you wish to be added, then let me know!

[smoshyourheadin]

Sunshine and Soda Cans

Part 2 - Bubbles

"hey, spencer!" angela jogs up to spencer as you walk into the office. you wander to the kitchen to grab a soda, and put your stuff down.

"(y/n) said shes struggling with editing the new try not to laugh episode, and i don't think she's going to ask for help because she's too stubborn, so can you just check on her and give her a hand?". spencer looks over at you, and back to angela

"yeah sure! i'll catch up with her later" angela gives him a big grin, and then walks over to you, striking up a conversation.

later on, you're sat at your desk, editing away. you've been stuck re-trimming the same clip for like twenty minutes, and you're becoming increasingly frustrated.

"hey, (y/n)!"

his voice catches your attention, making you look up, but not away from the screen.

"hi spence, uh- what's up?" you say, eyes still glued to your screen.

"oh nothing, just checking how you're getting on with the try not to laugh edit. everything going good?"

"no actually' you, look up at him and you chuckle "ive, i've been trying to edit the same clip for like ever, and it won't save properly. im losing my mind!"

he smiles at you honesty, and pulls up a chair to help you out. after about an hour, you two get a bit bored and decide to go live on the games channel, streaming some sims

"alrighty then guys, hello! welcome to the games channel, today me and spencer are going to be playing some sims 4!" you smile into the camera, adjusting your hair, and you relax into your chair.

"guys, can we hate on (y/n) in chat for drowning my sims last time" spencer says sarcastically, glaring at you sassily.

"hey!" you elbow him, playfully "you made fun of my sims' fashion choices!"

he laughs at your anger, and you talk with the chat for a little while as the game loads

"okay, my plan is to make a love triangle in my mansion. i want to see if they can handle the drama.." you say, tapping your fingertips together

"woah, okay dr. evil!" he says, laughing with you

you guys start making some characters that, suspiciously, resemble each other. as you begin to play, your sims keep chatting to eachother

"hey, (y/n), why does your sim keep flirting with mine? got a crush or something?" spencer says with a smirk

"oh, please! my sim is just being friendly! unlike yours, who keeps stealing my sim's food!!! didn't realise your name was tina.." you giggle at your own joke, napoleon dynamite is one of the first things you two bonded over, so you both have a good laugh.

you guys play for about two hours, and then decide to wrap up, finishing the stream

before getting up to leave, you guys share a lingering gaze, and you see the colours in his eyes. you give him a ride back to his apartment, and you turn of your radiohead "in rainbows' cd. weird fishes/arpeggi comes on, as you pull up infront of his apartment. you look over at him with a sweet smile.

"well, see you tomorrow spence"

"yeah. looking forward to it"

you two lock eyes, and then he gently pulls you into a sweet kiss, his hand lingering on your jaw as you melt into his touch. he tastes like mt dew, and you smile against his lips. as you break away, you already miss his lips on yours.

"see ya, (y/n)" he says with a smile and a new twinkle in his eye, exiting the car and walking into his apartment block.

you sit in your car for at least another five minutes; eyes glassy, chest heavy, and palms sweating. you pick up your phone, and open up the phone app, ringing the only person you can think of to call.

"hey jelly, do we have any icecream? i need to tell you what's just happened"

you hear angela open the freezer over the phone, and she says

"yeah, we have some vanilla and i think there's some strawberries in the fridge. everything okay?"

"yeah," you breathing staggers, fully realising what just happened "me and spencer kissed"

"I'M SORRY WHAT"

you hang up, and start driving back to your apartment.

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

a/n— hey!! thank you all so much for the love on part one omg love y’all for that ahhh 😚 my requests are open btw!! so feel free to request anything, not just smosh stuff!! i’ll write for anything (even if im not in the fandom 😚)! okay yeah hope you all enjoy pt2!! love y'all 💛

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

Oh my goodness!! I am in love with “you hurt me pretty good too” I would love to read more about them if that’s possible? I mean anything about them I would love...could be their back story (like how they became fwb), the time between part one and two (like telling the cameron family and going to doctors appointments and when reader gives birth), a part three of the story, headcanons of a normal day at reader and rafe’s house, anything

you hurt me pretty good too pt 0.

pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: implied sex, pet names, alcohol consumption

summary: the story of how you and rafe meet.

authors note: i’m so happy to hear you enjoyed it!! i’ll make another part to this as well to explain the rest of the story, but for now, here is this!

part zero | part one | part two

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“kie, i’ll be fine. ‘m just gonna go grab another drink,” you drunkenly assured your friend. “i’ll be right back.”

“hurry,” she replied. “come right back.”

you jokingly saluted. “yes ma’am.”

you pushed the glass door open and headed inside the spacious house, pushing past the crowd of drunk teens towards the kitchen where the drinks were held.

you looked to the bowl of red liquid with an empty bottle of vodka beside it. upon noticing the small pockets of whatever unknown substance floating around in it, you opted for something closed and untampered with.

you opened up the fridge and saw the bunches of cases filled with beer. opting for a bottle instead of a can, you picked one out and shut the fridge. as you turned to the side to begin your way back to your friends, someone unknowingly collided with you and whatever cool liquid was in their cup began to pour on and down your shirt.

“shit,” you heard the voice say. “sorry, i wasn’t paying attention.”

you jaw was practically on the floor, arms frozen by your midsection and body beginning to erupt in goosebumps. it was like you’d just jumped into an ice bath.

you were already pissed off that someone had ruined your red top, but that apology was also absolute shit. they couldn’t be more insincere.

you looked up to see who it was, annoyed to find that it was none other than rafe cameron. the shitty apology cashed out now.

he grabbed your hand, the one not holding your beer. “c’mon.” he began to lead you through the watchful eyes of the party and towards what you assumed was a bathroom.

he shut and locked the door once inside and began to bunch up some paper towel. not wanting to stand or sit on a toilet that has been puked on by teens all night, you hopped up on the bathroom counter and sat by the sink.

he ran warm water onto the paper towel and turned to you, beginning to wipe by your collarbones. “so that’s how its gonna go? not gonna ask or anything? just start rubbing a soggy paper towel on me?” you questioned, head tilted down to watch his hand move.

“do you want to be sticky or not?” he snapped with a sassy attitude.

“you were the one that spilled your beer on me,” you replied just as sassy.

he stopped for a second and took a deep breath. “i apologized. did i not?”

you laughed under your breath. “it was a shit apology.”

“yeah? well, at least i apologized,” he replied.

you rolled our eyes and shook your head. you weren’t going to win with him. you knew you weren’t. so you decided to just sit and wait until he finished.

he threw away the old paper towel and grabbed a new one, dipping it under the water again then wiping over the tops of your breasts.

you couldn’t help but look over his concentrated face. he’d truly changed since you last saw him.

he’d traded the side part for a middle part, the polos for flannels and quarter zip sweaters, and he no longer seemed like he was as much of an immature asshole.

still an asshole but much more immature.

“stop ogling at me,” he said.

there was that arrogance you knew so well. “you’re the one staring at my boobs,” you replied.

“so what?” he asked.

your brows furrowed. “so i can’t look at your face, but you can stare at my tits.”

“only reason i’m looking is cause i’m cleaning you off. wanna do it yourself?” he snapped back.

“i’d probably do a much better job,” you replied.

he stopped his movements and leaned back slightly to look in your eyes. “maybe i could work a little better if you’d shut up.”

“you talk big shit, cameron,” you mumbled under your breath.

he squinted at you and leaned in closer. “i didn’t quite catch that. what’d you say?” he knew damn well what you said.

“maybe if you’d just hurry the hell up and clean up your mess, we can both be on our merry little wa—“

before you could even finish your sentence, his lips were on yours.

[milkman-zahhak]

Shane drawing + written fic to accompany it

WARNING, THIS IS A KINK POST, A FETISH POST. IT WILL CONTAIN FETISH CONTENT, SUCH AS BELLIES FULL OF FOOD AND WHATNOT, CHECK THE TAGS FOR THE WHOLE RUNDOWN.

Hello, enjoy another drawing of Shane based off of some in-game dialogue.

Idk if this is base-game, part of one of the many dialogue mods I have installed, or one of the lines I added into the game's code myself to practice modding and to get used to editing dialogue files. I'd say the latter but I don't remember ever typing this so.. idk. Just assuming it's canon for now lol.

Anyways here's the drawing:

+ a short lame-ass gif attempt

I know it's terrible, I wish I could blur it or something so you could choose whether to see it or not, but oh well. Here's what you're probably all looking for, sorry again if my writing is bad, I haven't proofread it or anything, otherwise I would see what I wrote, and decide not to post it ever! So as usual this is all getting posted RAW and UNCUT!!1! That's why I post both the drawing and the writing- so that if one sucks, maybe the other will impress you and save the poor failure of a post. ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Shane sat back on the worn couch in their cozy farmhouse living room, licking the last bit of greasy residue from his fingers with a satisfied sigh. The empty plate in front of him was a testament to the gluttony that had taken hold of him, scattered with crumbs of one of his favorite snacks, pepper poppers. The farmer always made sure to keep the fridge stocked with them in case Shane got hungry while his husband was too busy to cook for him, since Shane's culinary skill peaked at reheating pre-existing meals in a microwave. Shane usually tries to be a bigger help around the farm when he can, doing what he knows best and caring for all of the animals (mostly the chickens) while his husband tended to the crops and went out foraging. All that hardworking farmer stuff. But today was rainy and stormy, the kind of day Shane liked to spend inside the house. He'd went out to the barn and the coop that morning and made sure the animals were okay, but that was about as much physical activity he had since waking up. Meanwhile, despite Shane's concerns and warnings to him, his husband insisted that he go out and fish in the storm, saying "Certain kinds of fish only come out in this weather, Shane. Besides, the rain means I don't need to water the crops today, I can get other chores done!"

So here he was, sitting on his ass in the house watching TV, the entire stock of pepper poppers he'd saved up for a day like this in front of him, or rather, the remainders of it. He had lost count of how many he had consumed, but it was undoubtedly more than he could handle. A warm, uncomfortable pressure began to build in his stomach, causing it to swell noticeably beneath his shirt. He looked down at his belly, which now protruded like a beach ball, and couldn't help but chuckle softly. The spicy treat had become somewhat of a weakness for him, and his husband knew it all too well.

"Oh, oh wow.. The farmer's gonna be home soon, and I'm such a mess", Shane thought, running a hand over his distended stomach. The heavy sensation of fullness and the audible rumbles signaling an incoming tummy ache were worrying, but he couldn't deny the strange satisfaction that came with it. He shifted his position, attempting to alleviate some of the discomfort, only to feel a loud gurgle reverberate throughout his torso. The sound made him blush, and he glanced around the room, hoping that no one else had heard it before remembering that he was home alone. Even if he wasn't, he had a hunch that his husband wouldn't mind seeing him like this anyways. Another gurgle echoed through his intestines, followed by an unmistakable sensation of gas brewing inside of him. Shane leaned to the side, carefully straining as a short, quick puff rushed out from behind him into his seat. "nhfh.." He grunted, holding back a cough as the scent of digesting pepper poppers lingered in the air.

With a groan, Shane shifted his weight on the couch, the couch creaking underneath him as he tried to sit up straight but ultimately slouched back down, regretting trying to preserve his dignity. His stomach gave another loud growl, followed by a series of smaller rumbles that made him cringe. "Pepper poppers, why do you have to taste so good but hurt me so bad?" Shane muttered to himself, rubbing his belly tenderly.

He knew all too well that they didn't agree with him sometimes. They'd make him feel bloated, gassy, and sometimes even give him heartburn and indigestion depending on how much he decided to pig out, but damn if they weren't worth it. He glanced over at the clock on the wall, realizing that his husband would be home soon.

"I should probably clean up this mess before he gets back", Shane thought, looking at the empty plates and greasy napkins littering the coffee table. He slowly pushed himself off the couch, letting out a small burp as he did so. He paused for a moment, waiting for any more gas to escape before he began to gather up the remnants of his indulgent day. His insides were churning up a storm but nothing else seemed to come out just yet. As he bent over to collect some of the napkins that fell on the floor, another gurgle sounded from his stomach, followed by a sharp pain that made him wince.

"Fuck," Shane cursed under his breath, clutching at his swollen midsection. He straightened up carefully, trying to ignore the discomfort as he made his way to the kitchen. Each step he took sent small tremors through his body, making him hyper-aware of every little movement in his stomach.

When he finally reached the kitchen, he deposited the plate into the sink and napkins in the trash can and took a deep breath, leaning against the counter for support. He couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his bloated appearance. He knew his husband loved him no matter what, but Shane couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

At this moment, the doorknob jiggled and he heard the front door creak open. It's as if the universe was reading his mind and taunting him. "Hey honey, I'm back! I caught a bunch of neat fish today! I think we might need more Wild Bait though because…" The farmer's words trailed off as he caught sight of Shane in the kitchen, his eyes drifting downwards onto the poor man's swollen belly. Shane could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as his husband's gaze swept over him, taking in the sight of his distress.

"Shane? Are you alright? You look…" the farmer trailed off, concern evident in his voice.

Shane forced a sheepish smile, taking his hand off of his belly, trying to play it cool despite the discomfort. "Urgh.. Y-Yeah, honey, I'm fine, just… *hic* ate too many pepper poppers…" he admitted, quickly going back to rubbing at his stomach again. He could feel the gas building up inside him, threatening to escape at any moment. He hoped that the farmer wouldn't notice, but the man had always been perceptive.

The farmer's eyes narrowed, and Shane knew that he wasn't fooling him one bit. "How many did you have? I mean, I have a whole chest of ingredients in the shed so I can always make you more, but I really thought this time I'd made you enough." he asked, a hint of amusement lacing his tone.

Shane shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to admit the truth. "You did, you made more than enough, sweetie…" Shane paused to let out a belch, only for it to get caught in his throat, the moment passing uncomfortably. "I just… I wasn't paying attention, and I ate more than enough." he mumbled, looking away. No point in feigning innocence now, not if he wanted any help with his developing bellyache.

The farmer chuckled, crossing the room to stand behind him. He wrapped his arms around Shane's waist, pulling him close so that his back was pressed against the farmer's own body. Shane let out a small squeak of surprise, followed by a louder gurgle from his stomach. The farmer's laughter grew louder at the sound, and Shane couldn't help but join in, despite the embarrassment.

"You know they always do this to you, snack-food is supposed to be eaten in moderation, y'know." the farmer said, kissing the back of Shane's neck.

Shane nodded, wincing slightly as another rumble echoed through the kitchen, the cause of which staying irritatingly trapped inside his stomach "Yeah, I know," he replied. "But I couldn't resist. ugh.. They taste so much better after being microwaved." The farmer's hand slid up to rub circles on Shane's distended belly, "Mmhmm, and I bet it's so easy to just keep eating without even thinking about it when they're all… soft and squishy.."

Shane rolled his eyes, the irony of such a description was not lost on him. The farmer couldn't resist teasing Shane some more, rubbing his hands over the swollen belly and giving it a few gentle pats. Shane's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as the movement caused more gas bubbles to form and shift. "You're adorable, you look like you're pregnant, haha! " the farmer laughed, his fingers tracing patterns on the taut flesh "Kidding, haha. Swallowing seems to be your strong-suit no matter the situation, huh?"

Shane tried to play it off, swatting at the farmer's hand weakly. "Stop!" he said between giggles and groans, "It's not funny!" But deep down, he knew that his husband's touch was helping him relax, even if it made things worse temporarily. The farmer was always so attentive, always knowing just what to do to make him feel better. And just what to say to get under his skin and make him squirm.

Just then, Shane's stomach gave a particularly loud growl, followed by a deep, low burp, like a warning signal. "*bhrrruurup*… uh, 'scuse me.." The farmer's grin faltered slightly, his eyes flickering to Shane's face as he felt the tension return to his husband's body. "Oooohohooohhhh… " Shane moaned, clutching at his belly "f-fuck, they're really doing a number on me". The gas was building up inside him, pressing against his insides like a balloon ready to burst. He could feel the pressure increasing by the second.

"Come on," the farmer said, taking Shane by the hand and leading him back to the couch, "Let's get you comfortable."

The farmer sat Shane back down on the couch, his belly jiggling slightly from the effort it took to move. He sat down next to him and began rubbing his hand gently over his stomach, trying to ease the discomfort. Shane leaned back, letting out a couple of hiccups. "Fuck, that hurts," he muttered, trying relax himself. The farmer chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth and amusement as he continued to rub circles around Shane's navel. "Relax, dear. You know the drill by now." He was right, Shane had experienced this kind of thing many times before after indulging in his favorite foods. His stomach was just sensitive.

Or maybe his favorite foods being greasy, cheesy pizza, soda, peppers, and spicy pepper poppers was the culprit behind his frequent tummy troubles- but as he's said before, he'd rather die before abstaining from any of those foods.

As the farmer's hands kneaded gently into the surface of Shane's aching belly, they loosened up a few air bubbles that were previously trapped. Shane's gasps and groans were interrupted by airy little burps. "There we go~" the farmer cooed, enjoying the little moans that followed almost every time his husband burped. For as much relief as they brought him in the moment, more gas was building inside of him rapidly as his stomach tried to digest everything. Shane knew this was only the beginning of what was bound to be a long night. The farmer leaned down, pressing his ear against Shane's stomach, listening to the symphony of sounds emanating from within. "Sounds like your stomach's waging a war on you in there." he joked, his breath tickling Shane's skin. Shane groaned in embarrassment, but couldn't help but laugh a little, too. The farmer always knew how to lighten the mood. But as his nimble fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of his lower belly, Shane's laughter turned into moans of both pleasure and discomfort. He couldn't deny that there was something erotic about this situation, even though he knew it shouldn't be. "*hic-uuurp.. uuurp*... ughhh, feels… so tight.." He whined.

Shane flinched as his intestines let out a sickly rumble, he knew his husband could feel and hear it from the outside. "Just let it out, it's gotta happen at some point" the farmer whispered, his hand now firmly kneading Shane's lower stomach. Shane nodded, biting his lip. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let go. A loud, long fart echoed inside the room, making them both laugh uncontrollably.

The tension dissipated as the gas escaped, and Shane slumped back onto the couch, relieved for a moment "oh fuck, finally.." he sighed. As the minutes passed, Shane's burps became more frequent and less forceful - small puffs of air escaping his lips like a steam engine letting off steam. He shifted on the couch, farting once more. "Buhhhh.. I don't feel good.."

He was a burpy mess. He struggled to speak between them "I'm so *uuurp* bloated" he whined, looking down at himself with disgust. His stomach was round and hard, protruding against his shirt. He felt each gurgle and bubble as his stomach contents churned like a pot of boiling soup- if the soup was made entirely of pepper poppers and grease. He couldn't believe how much he'd eaten - it felt like he'd never be able to move again. *hic…… hic….*

"oh no, f- *hic* fuck.." Shane moaned. each hiccup jostled his already sensitive belly. He put both his hands on the sides of his poor bloated belly, trying to keep it steady while his husband rubbed it. Suddenly, another hiccup shook Shane's frame, only this time it was accompanied by air being forced out after being sucked in by the initial hiccup. His entire body tensed up and he let out a painful groan. "*hic-uuurp* fuck, that h- *hic-uoorrrp* guh… hurts.." The farmer's hand paused mid-rub, looking down at his husband with a mix of concern and arousal "Aw, you poor thing. I can't stop hiccups.. um, just…. Try not to swallow too much air?" Shane whimpered in response "*hic* can't.. help it.. *hic-uuurp* ow… oooohhh.. *hic-uurlp* ow…" "Just hang in there," the farmer reassured him, rubbing his back now. they were both a bit less talkative for a few minutes as Shane groaned in pain. Eventually his hiccups became less frequent, replaced instead by deeper and wetter belches. but the whole ordeal of uncontrollable hiccups still left Shane exhausted. "*buuuuurp* ugggh… so gurgly… *buuuu-ulp* oooh.." Shane managed to say through clenched teeth.

The farmer nodded sympathetically, rubbing Shane's back with slow, comforting circles. He couldn't help but admire the way his husband's belly moved with every burp, the firmness of it beneath his hands. It was fascinating, in a weird sort of way. The farmer moved in closer next to Shane, resuming his gentle massages on his husband's stomach. His hands moved in slow, deliberate circles, trying to coax any remaining gas out gently.

Shane's breathing was deep and labored, his chest rising and falling with each exhale. "ngh… ohhhhh.. *frrrrrt pffffrr-brrpt* ah.." Shane trembled as he felt pressure building near his backside, unable to hold anything back. After a small toot, realizing it was only another fart, Shane actively pushed a little bit, forcing the air out. "Better?" the farmer asked.

The farmer's touch was soothing, his concern evident as he continued to massage Shane's belly. Shane couldn't deny the strange mix of embarrassment and arousal he was feeling - it wasn't everyday someone else got to see him in such a state. But something about his husband's tender massages made him feel cared for and safe. He nodded weakly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Y-yeah.. thank you." He murmured, leaning into the farmer's touch.

The farmer smiled, his thumb pressing against Shane's belly button as he worked his way around the taut surface. The pressure built again, and Shane even try to hold anything in. He let out a long, wet fart, followed almost immediately by a hefty burp. The farmer laughed softly under his breath. "Good boy." He praised, leaning in to plant a kiss on Shane's cheek. Shane's face reddened at the praise, but he couldn't help but feel a spark of arousal at the gentle dominance in his husband's tone. He bit his lip, trying to contain himself as the farmer's hands continued to work their magic. His belly felt a tiny bit lighter now, the gas slowly leaving his body. The farmer's hands moved lower, accidentally brushing against Shane's crotch. He let out a small yelp at the sudden contact, his erection straining against the fabric of his pants almost as much as his belly strained against his waistband.

"Sorry," He mumbled, turning his face away and burying it in his hands. "It's just… you know.. *uuurp* mmph, you.. You're touching me so much.. a-and rubbing me…" he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. The farmer chuckled again, his hand resting lightly on Shane's hip. "It's okay, sweetheart." He said softly, giving Shane's side a gentle squeeze. "We've been married for years, I know how your body works." He paused, his eyes meeting Shane's briefly before looking away. "And honestly, it's adorable."

The farmer's words sent another wave of heat through Shane, his embarrassment giving way to full-fledged arousal. He shifted slightly, trying to adjust himself without drawing too much attention. But it was no use - every movement seemed to shake his overstuffed belly, reminding him of his predicament. He could feel the farmer's eyes on him, taking in every detail.

"W-why are you looking at me like that?" Shane stammered, trying to sound playful but failing miserably. The farmer's gaze softened as he reached out and cupped Shane's cheek, turning his face towards him. "Because I find you incredibly sexy right now," he admitted, his voice low and husky. Shane's eyes widened in shock before a small smile tugged at his lips. He couldn't believe it - he felt like such a mess, but the farmer found him attractive?

Shane's smile grew wider, a sense of warmth spreading throughout his body. He couldn't believe that his husband found him attractive even in such an unflattering state. He leaned into the touch, nuzzling against the farmer's palm like a content cat. The farmer's thumb traced circles on his cheek as they sat there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the simple intimacy between them.

However, the peace didn't last long. With a loud groan, Shane's stomach protested again, reminding them both that he still had quite a bit of digesting to do. He winced, his hand flying to his belly as it spasmed painfully. The farmer's expression shifted back to concern, his hand moving from Shane's cheek to his stomach to comfort him. "Do you need anything else?" He asked gently. Shane shook his head, biting his lip to stifle another burp. He didn't want to ruin the moment, but he couldn't deny the discomfort he was still in.

"Nah.." He said finally, "Just.. *urp* need to let my belly settle.. whoof…" He took a deep breath, trying to calm his stomach. The farmer nodded, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on Shane's belly. They sat like that for a while longer, Shane burping and farting helplessly. The farmer secretly hoped that the storm outside would continue through the night and into tomorrow. Not for the fishing opportunities, but because maybe he did need a good rainy day off at home.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[vhstown]

tender

— pavitr prabhakar x gn!reader

summary: It's the middle of summer, and Spider-Man caused a city-wide power outage; your friend Pavitr tries to make it up to you.

word count: 0.7k

warnings: fluff, mentions of food/drink

a/n: there's not enough pavitr in this world 💔 another 3am notes app to one-shot pipeline, somewhat edited

"Ugh..."

It was probably the hundredth time you groaned that morning. Your uniform was sticking to you, your notebook was less than efficient as a fan and you still had to come into class for the rest of the day. The Mumbattan sun was practically bleeding through the walls, and though you and Pavitr had found a shaded spot outside, it did little to stop the constant wave of sweat that trickled down your back.

"Probably the worst day for the power to go out, right?" Pavitr gave you a crooked smile. His shoulders flexing uncomfortably as he leaned forward, tilting his head to meet your squinting eyes.

"Yeah. Spider-Man really did us a service, huh?" From what you knew, Mumbattan's one and only "hero" with stupidly good hair had managed to disconnect the entire city's power last night. Alchemax was "working hard" to restore it (probably in their own building), but you didn't know how much longer you could survive without the academy's stellar, now out-of-service air conditioning.

"He's not so bad. He's probably suffering from the heat too; think about the suit!" Thinking about the suit only made you sweat more.

You met Pavitr's defense with a frown, shaking your head. "It's his problem. Well, it's everyone's problem now."

Pavitr returned your frown with his own, his eyes narrowed and trailing off in silence. You two talked about Spider-Man often; his hair was pretty compelling, but today he was more of a menace than anything, even if he was boiling under that suit too. Your notebook was practically clinging to your clammy hands, but Pavitr seemed fine for the most part, just one button of his shirt undone. Maybe the heat was the reason why you were looking at his bare collar so much.

Your head fell back as another flash of sweat went through you, and you were ready to let out another groan before Pavitr spoke up.

"You know what? I'll be right back. One sec... a minute — two minutes!" He gave you a wave and half a smile before getting up, the way his hand pushed off of the hot concrete making you cringe. The sun was hurting your eyes, so you gave up on trying to look out for him, sinking into the heat as you waited.

Around the corner, other students of Mubattan Visions were suffering a similar sizzling reality to you, the same complaints and frustrations dampened by the heat. It was an oven inside and a slow-cooker outside; you didn't know which you preferred — probably neither now your best friend was gone.

Thwip! Thwip! You barely registered the sound before you felt a hand on your shoulder, looking behind you only to have something cold put in your hands — a drink.

"Two minutes," he grinned, sitting next to you as he cracked open the lid of his own bottle. 100% Natural... "Tender" Coconut Water?

Your brows furrowed, trying not to crack a smile while taking a sip of the drink. It was cool, easing the breathless feeling you had from the heat as it went down your throat. "How'd you even get this?"

"I uh, had it in my backpack." His casual and slightly unsure look did nothing to convince you.

"Is your backpack a fridge or something?"

"Maybe. Guess I should be an engineer, huh?" It was finally cool enough to laugh, and you hesitated to drink again as the thought of Pavitr's refrigerator backpack cracked you up a bit.

"Yeah. Maybe. Nadeesh's got competition."

"The kid had it coming," he shrugged, rolling his eyes and smiling.

The two of you finally had something to talk about other than the heat. You chatted through the school morning, and it was a little easier to endure the heat even if the power was still out. You had no idea how Pavitr had managed to get cold drinks when almost all of Mumbattan was simmering alive, but you were thankful enough.

Pavitr set the empty bottle down, letting out a contented sigh as he crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against yours. It was a little uncomfortable given the drying sweat pressing into your skin, but you decided it wasn't worth moving away because of a bit of extra warmth.

In fact, though the power would be out for a couple more hours, and Alchemax might've had a broken vending machine, this sort of warmth was something you could get used to; it was almost tender.

Maybe you'd have to get that coconut water more often.

🕸️🔭🪀

thank u for reading ! my boy pavitr is so real 🫶 also nadeesh = ned (silly headcanon for his universe...)

reblogs appreciated <3 catch my atsv masterlist here!

[nostalgia-tblr]

and so i leave nobody un-pissed-off, the reason thor is overall the less compelling brodinson is because (imperialism reading aside, which i waver on) the films do mostly see him as not doing anything especially wrong in his life. he's done minor thoughtlessness (who hasn't!) or things his friends also did (the reason Thor takes the blame for the Jotunheim trip is he's the one who Should Know Better (even though he clearly doesn't)) and it seems like the films decided his dark side is his brother rather than a part of himself and so he ended up a bit bland as a result.

[Edit To Add: yes there's Bad Things he does but generally those aren't supposed to be bad. he doesn't visit Loki in prison but neither does anyone else (Frigga aside and I suspect that's mostly so her soon-upon-her fridging seems extra motivational for her menfolk) and he did get stabbed last time (if Loki being scared of Mortal Thor is reasonable then so is Thor being scared of Prison Shank Loki!) and probably just nobody making this dumb movie thought Hang On Isn't Solitary Confinement Torture? so Thor is innocent through someone else's stupidity. Which doesn't explain things in-universe but fits the general pattern of 'this scenario is way worse than these films realise' (SO MANY THINGS!!!)]

the 'thor is very terrible' interpretations seem to come from Loki stans determined to make thor bad enough to deserve repeated murder attempts so they're not going to find Dark Thor interesting in his own right and fandom doesn't write thor-centric fic enough to build up a communal fanon version everyone likes do they? he's not messy enough for us but he's also not innocent enough either.

i think my "where the fuck did you come from, pobrecito?! 😍" reaction to infinity war is because Later Thor, with everyone he loves shoved into the fridge he must now carry on his back, endlessly and without hope of relief other than the sweet release of death, at least gets to make terrible decisions of his own like "yes i will hold this star open for you, it won't kill me if i just don't die of it" and that's hot way more interesting suddenly!

when watching him i feel like this gif:

except i actually mean it, except also i don't because his pain and his increasing catalogue of death-baiting errors is very entertaining to me as it would be to Loki who frankly deserves to be around to see all this shit even though him being dead was the main catalyst for it so that wouldn't really work. BUT IN MY DREAMS IT DOES. don't mock my dreams.

wow, what a fuck-up the electricity man has become. it's very sad for him. he may never truly recover from all this. he's got one foot in valhalla already and we all know that's the happy foot. YAY!!! \o/

[obxone]

All In My Head (Part Three)

Edited-ish. ~2k words. (Post Season 3. If you haven't watched, don't read it unless you like spoilers!)

(Part One) (Part Two)

As you knock on the door of Tanneyhill, you close your eyes and replay the conversation that brought you here in the first place. You should have fought harder against the pogues and their brilliant idea to send you to face Rafe Cameron. 

“I’m telling him?!” Your eyes bulge out of your head. Anxiety punches through you, and you look at Sarah in alarm. “Why me?! He is your brother!"

“Because he will listen to you! Please do this,” she pleads. Her hands are gripping your upper arms tightly. “Rafe is not going to be okay when he finds out, and it should come from someone he cares about as much as he does Ward.”

Your mouth is dry as you try to process what she is saying. “He knows all of you. And again, you are his sister. He cares about you,” you offer weakly, knowing you are the only option out of the seven of you. “Fuck!” You groan, head falling back as you stare at the ceiling of the rental that Ward had given her before he died. “Fine! But if I’m not back in 48 hours, then you better hope I’m still alive.”

“48 hours?!” Cleo cocks her head. 

You rub your forehead. “Yeah… it’s Rafe. I’m not leaving Tanneyhill for at least a day once I tell him. He'll want every detail, and if Sarah is right, then he is not going to let me walk away since I'm the last thing he cares about."

John B shrugs. “Fair.”

You side-eye him as you grab the backpack that has your stuff jammed into it. A small part of you hopes someone will speak up, and tell you not to go, but no one does. It is you that has to do this. “See you guys soon?"

JJ’s body blocks yours from exiting the room. “Be careful, okay?”

You nod, and he slides out of the way as you swallow your fears while bracing yourself to face Rafe and deliver the news that the man he idolizes is no longer alive. 

“You’re back?” Rafe leans against the door frame. Curiosity in his gaze as you snap back to reality.

“Can I come inside?” You ask, aware that he already suspects something is amiss.

He lifts his arm higher and pushes the door wider, allowing you to slip under his arm and exhale as you cross the foyer. You step into the main house and drop your bag by the door. 

“Something to drink?” He asks while he passes you heading for the kitchen.

You follow him. Your hands are clasped around your arms as you hug yourself around the waist. “We need to talk.”

He glances at you as he pulls down a drinking glass and goes to the fridge. “About what?” He pulls out a soda can and looks at you after putting ice in the glass. “Like why you are back, but I haven’t heard from my dad…” He pops the tab on the can and begins to pour it into the glass. His steely gaze finds yours. “Rose called… looking for him.”

Worry increases inside of you. Rose… Wheezie… they do not know either. You inhale sharply and brace your hands against the marble countertop. The surface is cool under your sweaty palms. 

Rafe crosses the distance and sets the cup by your hand before his fingers weave through your hair, and he tips your head back, leading you to look at him. “Is that why you are here?”

You bite your lip before nodding your head. “Yeah.”

He leans down, his breath fanning over your face. The look in his eyes becomes something predatory. “What happened, y/n?”

You inhale, wanting to touch him. To soothe your hands over his chest and brace him for the revelation barreling in his direction. This will ruin him. He will never forgive the pogues and you. You know him. And in his opinion, the blame will belong solely on all of your shoulders. 

“He’s gone, Rafe.”

He watches you for a second. His gaze shifts over your face, trying to understand you. “I know, I put him on the plane, remember? I-it… It was safer for him to go.”

“Rafe…”

His fingers tighten around your hair before his touch vanishes completely, and he turns away from you. His shoulders tense, and his arms flex as he drags his hands over his buzzed head. He stalks to the edge of the kitchen tile before spinning, and you see the tears in his eyes. Then the shift to rage happens before you can even blink. He crosses the room in quick long strides. His fingers wrap around your throat, and he shoves you against the kitchen counter. The hard edge bites into your lower back, and you gasp sharply in surprise. 

“What happened?!” He shouts, tears rolling down his cheeks. “What did you do to him?!”

“Rafe!” Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails biting into the soft underside of his wrist, your other hand fisting his polo as he tightens his grip. “You’re hurting me!”

“You killed my dad!”

 “No!” You shake your head. “No, Rafe. Please…” You squeeze his wrist. “Please, Rafe, let me explain.” Tears collect in your eyes, and your heart breaks as he crumbles before you. A hollow rage storming in his eyes. “Please! I would never!”

“Those fucking pogues!” He roars, shaking with rage, then his touch disappears, and you crumple to the ground.

Gasping for air as you touch your neck, you realize how bad this is about to become. Your neck will likely bruise. Your heart races in your chest, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You should get out, and leave Rafe to deal with his grief before he hurts you again. But then you look at him and he is still the man you fell in love with, despite his mistakes, and he is the man you promised to come back to. 

“What happened?” He stands against the counter. His hands push harshly down on the countertop until his skin is stark white and red around his knuckles and wrist from the pressure he is forcing into the marble instead of around your neck. 

“I can go into detail when you are ready." You murmur. "But for now, you should know he did it to save Sarah." Rafe does not turn to look at you, but his shoulders tighten with your words. "There was a struggle with Singh. He followed us into the jungle, and his man threatened us after Singh died. He was going to kill Sarah. The one from the compound, and…” Your hand finds his back, but he shrugs you off, storming away but staying within hearing range. “Rafe… Your dad sacrificed himself for Sarah.”

Rafe shakes his head, pressing his fingers to his chest, while tears spill over again. “No. He wouldn’t do that. H-he wouldn’t do that!”

You frown, wiping at your own tears. “For Sarah, he would. Deep down, you know that. I know you don’t like or trust your sister, Rafe, but for Sarah… Ward would’ve done anything for her. He would have done this for you or Wheezie had it been either of you instead of Sarah. He did it. He took out Singh's man and saved Sarah."

He nods, wiping at his face before turning away from you. “All right. Then why isn’t she here telling me herself?”

“Because she’s scared of you.” 

He snorts in disbelief. 

“You did just have your hand around my neck…” You fade out as he turns to look at you. His gaze flickered to the red marks on your neck. “I’m fine, it’s fine. But there is a reason it is me and not her.”

He looks down at the floor. “You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes.”

He is quiet, and you frown, wanting to wrap him in your arms and hold him together. This is not how you pictured coming back to him. 

"The guy had a gun pointed at us. He threatened to kill us all." You whisper and cross a portion of the space between you. "He was going to shoot Sarah, so Ward rushed him and was shot. They fell from a cliff."

Rafe winces and you sigh, touching his bicep. Your fingers curl around the muscled width as your forehead falls to press against his back. "I'm sorry, Rafe, but he died protecting us. If he hadn't... if Ward hadn't done what he did, none of us would be here. You would be without a father and a sister."

"And you?"

You exhale, squeezing his arm. "And me."

“Does Rose know? Wheezie?”

"No," you whisper, dragging your other hand over his shoulder and neck. “Someone needs to tell them.”

“All right,” he murmurs, wiping his cheeks. “Okay. Okay.”

“I can ask Sarah to do it if you prefer,” you whisper, continuing to try and soothe him with your touch. “I can go get that done now…”

“Stay tonight,” he says, turning to look at you. Your hands fall away from him as he digs his phone out. His gaze locked on you for a moment. “Please?”

“I’ll stay.”

He nods. “I’m going to call Rose.” He moves closer, and you brace yourself for any sudden change in his behavior. His fingers skim across your cheek. “I'm the man of the house now. I'm... in charge of our family now. I have to do this."

"Okay."

"Wait for me upstairs.”

Some of the tension leaves you even though it is not a question. “Sure.”

He steps into Ward’s office and closes the door, his eyes on you as he puts the phone to his ear until the doors close. 

You exhale and fish out your phone to send the pogues a quick message, before going upstairs as he asked. You spot his suitcase on the floor of the primary suite and sit on the edge of the bed after toeing off your shoes. You look around the unfamiliar space. Rose and Ward’s pictures still litter the room. You spy their clothing in the closet still. After pulling your knees up to your chest, you rest your chin on the top of your knee to wait for him. 

It is dark, the sun having set before the sound of Rafe on the stairs reaches your ears. You turn your head to look at him as he comes in. The weight of the world is on his shoulders. 

"Are they okay?"

He shakes his head, sniffling a little before shutting the door. You exhale, watching him with concern. He is quiet and seems to still be processing Ward's death. 

He looks at you, watching you before he tugs his t-shirt up while moving closer. You reach up and help him pull it off before throwing it near his suitcase. His mouth is on yours, and you groan, tasting expensive scotch on his tongue.

"I promised to get my shit together," he mumbles against your lips. "You know, I really wanted to."

"And you can."

A sad laugh leaves him as he drags his mouth across your jaw and down your neck. "Can I?"

"Yes," you whisper, stroking your fingertips across the back of his head. His lips press to your collarbone and shoulder. 

"Barry should still be awake..." He starts to move away from you, but you clamp your thighs around his hips and lock your arms around his neck. 

"No!" You press your forehead against his. "Please don't. Stay with me, Rafe. Use me. Use me as much as you need. Not... cocaine. Me."

He watches you before grimacing. You cup his face, brushing your lips across his. 

"I love you, Rafe. Use me."

He blows out a breath, and then you kiss him. You pour everything you felt after the plane left the tarmac into that kiss, and he groans, his body falling into yours, and your back meets the mattress.

-------

As always, feedback is welcomed, just remember to be kind. Please feel free to like, reblog, comment, or send an ask if you want. Happy Reading.

Let me know if we want this to continue and if you want to be added to a tag list.

[hischierdevils]

Forget You | N.H.

note: part four of the forget series!

summary: nico finds out who your ex is

warning: slight angst

wc: 1.9K

Breaking your lease is a lot easier than you thought it would be. Your best friend Abby helps you pack up your things as you close a chapter on your life. “I can’t believe we’re not going to be neighbors anymore. What am I going to do without you?” She pouts as she tapes a box shut for you. 

“You’re my best friend, Abby.” You remind her. “You’re still going to see me.” 

“But you’re not right down the hall anymore.” She flops onto your bare mattress. “Who am I supposed to call with boy problems?” 

“You can still call me.” You tell her as you pack the last of your items into a box. “And I thought you and Anthony were good?” Her and Anthony have been on and off again since they met. The same night you met Mat. 

“We are, right now. But lately…” She trails off as she looks at you, deciding if she should tell you something. Before she gets a chance to, Nico walks through the front door slightly out of breath. 

“Please tell me this is the last of it.” He says as he takes his hat off his head to fix his hair underneath. 

“Regret asking me to move in yet, Ni?” You grin as you walk over to hug his sweaty body as he places his hat back on his head. 

“I regret not hiring movers.” He says after placing a kiss on your forehead. “Never you.” 

“Well no one asked me if I approved of this move.” Abby says as she stands up. “You’re taking her all the way to New Jersey! I want custody, Nico.” 

Nico laughs at your best friend. “You are more than welcome anytime.” 

“Um, call ahead and make sure we have clothes on, please.” You interject. 

“Noted.” Abby smiles before pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “I love you guys so much.” As she pulls away from you, she glares at Nico. “If you hurt her, I'll hurt you.” 

Nico smirks at the small blonde and opens his arms for a hug from her. “I'll never hurt her, I promise.” He winks at you as Abby gives him a quick hug. “She’s my girl.”

You didn’t give your apartment a second glance as you and Nico left it for the final time that day. The memories of you and Mat were now behind you. Nico was your future and you couldn’t wait to make new memories with him. 

It takes the two of you less than a week to fall into a comfortable rhythm with each other. After practically living together all summer, you already knew most of each other’s quirks. On Tuesday nights Abby would come over and have dinner with the two of you. Every other Friday you would go into the city and have a girls night with her. 

Pre-season began and you learned that not everything between you and Nico could be perfect all the time. Your schedules were different now that he was at the rink more and you were eating many meals alone. An argument arose one night when you got home from a long day of editing only to find that the leftovers you were thinking about all day weren’t in the fridge.

“Nico!” You cried out in frustration. 

“Yes?” He joined you in the kitchen quickly with shaving cream still on his face, recognizing the stress in your voice. 

“I had pasta in the fridge.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Where is it?” 

He frowns at you. “I ate it when I got home.” He sheepishly admits. “I was hungry.”

“Well now I'm hungry!” Hot tears of frustration line your eyes and you quickly wipe them away. “What am I supposed to eat? All you have is healthy shit!”

“You live here too, y/n!” He raises his voice slightly, making you flinch. “It’s not just my shit.” 

You roll your eyes, too frustrated to say anything. Nico shakes his head before walking back into the bathroom. Frustration tears continue to fall as you cut up a pomegranate and place it into a bowl, walking over to the couch to eat it. 

Ten minutes later, Nico walks out of your bedroom fully dressed and heads to the door. “I’ll be back.” Is all he says as he reaches for his keys. 

“Wait!” You practically fall off the couch in your effort to get to him. “Please don’t leave!” Nico freezes with his hand on the doorknob as you stand before him and cry. “I’m so sorry. I was just frustrated. I-please don’t leave me.” Your lower lip wobbles and he pulls you flush to his chest. 

“Baby, I was just going to get you food since I ate your dinner.” He explains as he smooths your hair down your back. “I’m going to come back.” 

“I-I thought…” You pause to gather yourself. Mat would leave at the first sign of trouble, always. Sometimes he’d ignore you and not come back for days. He’d claim he didn’t want to argue with you but it made you very wary of showing any sort of emotion around him. “...you were mad at me.” 

“Hey, it’s okay y/n.” Nico places his hand underneath your chin and tilts your head up so he can look at you. “Couples argue, it’s normal. I’m not going to leave just because we raised our voices a little.” 

You nod, too afraid to say anything else. Nico isn’t Mat. You know that. But sometimes it’s hard to override that trauma response. Nico bends his head down to kiss you. “Why don’t you go take a bath and I'll get you dinner?” 

“I don’t deserve you.” You tell him honestly as you pull away from him.

He chases your mouth with his before giving you a quick peck. ““Ich liebe dich.” 

“I love you too.” 

Things are so good between you and Nico that you don’t give a second thought to the fact that the Devils are playing the Islanders tonight at home. Abby is attending the game since her and Tito are on-again and she texts you all day sending you outfit options. You get to the prudential center before Nico to do some editing and you don’t see him again until warm-ups. 

Nico skates over to you, placing one gloved hand against the glass as soon as he sees you by the bench. You smile at him, bringing your own hand up to the other side. He mouths ‘I love you’ in German and you mouth it back before he skates off. 

During the national anthem you stand between the benches with Erika, trying to take some pictures of the guys. Feeling eyes on you, you look up to see Mat Barzal staring at you. He smiles when you finally look at him but you turn your attention away from him, not wanting to give him the time of day. As the game starts and you blow a kiss to Nico, you realize that you should’ve told him who Mat was to you. 

During the first intermission, you unblock Mat and draft out a text to him. You hesitate over the send button before Abby comes up beside you. “It’s going well!” She says happily. 

You delete the text and put your phone back in your pocket. “It’s tied 1-1.” 

“Yeah, but our men are doing great!” She smiles at you. “It’s weird to have men on different teams, huh?” 

“Abby, Nico doesn’t know.” You admit. 

“Doesn’t know what?” She furrows her brows at your nervous expression. “About you and Mat?”

You nod. “He knows I have a bad ex but I never told him who it was…” 

She bites her lip. “Everything’s been fine so far…maybe it will be okay.”

You knew it wasn’t going to be okay the moment you saw Nico and Mat headed out for the face off during the second period. Nico wins the draw but Mat quickly pins him on the wall. You watch in shock as their gloves go flying and Mat swings on Nico. Thankfully it gets broken up quickly and both of them are sent to the box. 

During the next intermission, you get a text from Nico. 

From: Lover ♥️

Would’ve been nice to know about Barzal

To: Lover ♥️

I didn’t think it would matter now

From: Lover ♥️

That I was playing against your piece of shit ex? He said shit about you y/n. 

To: Lover ♥️

I’m sorry. Just ignore him.

From: Lover ♥️

I’m not going to let him disrespect you but we need to talk

You’re a ball of pure anxiety as you watch the clock in the third period wind down. Nico and Mat haven’t been on the ice for longer than a few seconds since the incident but you can see Mat chirping Nico any chance he gets. After the game, you say goodbye to Abby before heading home alone. You’ve convinced yourself that Nico is going to break up with you by the time he gets home. 

‘Why didn’t you wait for me?” He asks as he walks into the bedroom to find you packing a bag. “Where do you think you’re going?” He begins unpacking your things as he waits for you to answer him. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” You sniffle as you pick up your clothes he threw out of your bag. 

“Baby, come here.” He reaches for your wrist and tugs you down to the bed so you’re sitting side by side. “I love you. Am I a little upset with you? Yes, but I'm not leaving and neither are you. We’re going to get through this together.” He holds both of your hands as he looks at you.

You bite your lip to keep it from wobbling as you look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Mat was my ex. I was just trying to forget about him and I didn’t think it would matter now anyways.” 

“He didn’t forget you.” Nico mutters. “It just would’ve been nice having a warning going into that faceoff.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, not sure of what he wants to hear. 

“No more secrets, okay? We tell each other everything.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Deal?” 

You kiss him. “Deal.” 

Nico gets up to use the bathroom and you had just begun putting your clothes away when your phone starts ringing. You know who it is without having to look. 

“Why are you calling me?” You answer.

“I’m sorry.” Mat blurts out. 

“For hitting my boyfriend or for treating me like shit?” You roll your eyes. It’s been months. Why does he care now?

The word boyfriend doesn’t go unnoticed. “So it’s serious?” 

“It’s not a secret, yeah.” You sigh. “Why do you care?”

“I miss you and I'm sorry. If you’d give me another chance I’d do it right.” You know it’s bullshit.

“I love him, Mat.” You hope the words hurt him.

“Does he remind you of me?” He asks. “You traded one thirteen for another.”

“He’s nothing like you, thank god. I’ll never allow another man to treat me the way you did.” Your voice waivers for a moment as the emotions you feel for Nico overwhelm you. “Don’t call me again.” You hang up as Nico walks back in. 

“Who was that?” He asks you. 

“No one.” You respond. “Let’s go to bed.”

[toomanybandstocare]

{Candy Cane Cupid}

Program: Holidays come around every year with mixed emotion. Excitement buzzes as clones celebrate their first Life Day with their partners after the war. Disappointment is pushed to the back of your mind as you keep yourself busy at work while your riduur is away. Mischief is in the air when Cupid finally reveals his holiday surprise for you.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Bartender, GN! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 2017w

Warnings: Mention of candy cane, alcohol + club scene, bittersweet emotions around the holidays, barely edited bc my brain is v smooth from work, probs slight out of character Wolffe (see counselor note below), barely edited as usual oops

Camp Resolute Masterlist

ClonexReader Masterlist

For the lovely @sinfulsalutations - Happy fic exhange and holiday season! I hope you enjoy. ^_^ I tried to make it a lil Hallmark moment. Part of the Life Day Exchange for @cloneficgiftexchange hosted by Ghost.

Prompt: 79s For @clonexreaderbingo event hosted by Ghost.

Counselor Note: I apologize if it's not that festive or good. Been in a funk as of recently, but I had fun writing this and trying to explore Wolffe as a character more. I know he's more stoic and serious in canon, but I wanted to explore how he would balance happiness, relaxation, and the familiarity of pulling rank during post war.

It seems like all of Coruscant has decided to spend the evening out amongst the city levels for holiday celebrations. Still only a year since the Clone Wars were won, everyone carries a warm happiness and joyfulness as they weave through club lines with their friends. Former troopers gather in boisterous groups outside of clubs, eagerly waiting for their first Life Day celebration. The usual clubbers are surrounded by new faces who easily share their nervousness and excitement for what the night may bring.

79s, normally vibrant with yellow and orange neon lights, now welcome tonight’s guests with more festive colored lighting and music. Even the tired club staff seem to be able to find one last bit of energy to push through the night with the holiday cheer.

The tips of your fingers sting from gripping the chilled shaker as your gaze flits across the crowd of dancers and party goers. The small semblance of hope that you kept tucked away deep in your heart slowly sizzles when you can’t find a gray battalion ribbon in the crowd of troopers. Red ribbons pack tightly into a booth as they play a game of Sabbac and try to teach their partners. Blue ribbons spread across the dance floor as they find dates for the evening. Orange ribbons stick close to the end of the bar as they share a flight of beer and stories. Not a single gray ribbon in the crowd to be found tonight. Your chest constricts, squeezing all the air out of your lungs in disappointment. The last flicker of hope fizzles and stings your heart. Hitting the shaker against the bartop harder than intended, you pour a bright blue cocktail into its glass and slide it over to a giggling patron. You watch with yearning as she’s pulled into the side of her partner, who sports a green ribbon, before they maneuver through the growing mass of people to join their friends.

“Still no sign of Wolffe?” Kiva carefully asks. Walking past you from the side entrance of the bar with a crate of seasonal beer, he squats down to the small fridge at the base of the bar shelves. He looks up at you with a concerned expression as he slides the fridge door open.

“He said he wasn’t even sure if he was going to be in the system even after Life Day,” you casually explain. Darting your tongue over your bottom lip, you shrug and turn to grab a new drink slip. Unable to meet Kiva’s all too familiar sympathetic gaze, you grab the mixers and spirits for the next order. Your heart races out of rhythm to the upbeat songs pulsing through the club. As the liquids spill into your new shaker, your stomach knots and twists leaving agony to swim through your body.

“I don’t even know why I’m bothering to look for him. The last we spoke, he and Plo Koon were just summoned to attend the peace accords on Soreno,” you breathlessly ramble. Once the final words tumbles past your lip, your throat tightens and you slam the top of the shaker shut before Kiva can reassure you.

Guilt stings the back of your neck as you shake the drink above your shoulder. The day that Wolffe shared that he was reinstated as a Marshall Commander, you immediately called for celebration. All his closest brothers and your friend group filled into a bar just down the street from your shared home. It wasn’t until the two of you fell into bed and silence separated you from Wolffe’s bliss that you realized the two of you wouldn’t have a different life after the war. Wolffe would still be systems away from you a majority of the time. The realization sank in further when he couldn’t wish you a happy birthday in person with the rest of your loved ones. A solemn understanding was made when he missed your two year anniversary to help with an aid mission. The mundane moments and memories you had hoped to create with Wolffe were nothing like the ones that your friends share of their partners' first year away from the GAR.

Not even realizing that you had slowed your actions, a gentle hand takes the shaker from yours and pours it into the glass in front of you. With a sigh, you face Kiva’s kind, understanding expression after he slides the drink over to a trooper with a yellow ribbon.

“Give him a call. Maybe you’d be surprised by the answer?” he softly encourages. Hope and mischief dance across his face while he grabs your hand to pull you away from the order line.

“Why would I do that when I already know the answer?” you tiredly push back. Fatigue and numbness wrap around your bones, and you can only stumble after Kiva out of the bar. “It’s not even my break yet for the second half. Not to sound too pessimistic, but I’d rather just work the doubles if I can’t spend the holidays with my partner”.

“Well,” Kiva exclaims, “Call me your candy cane cupid, because I have a surprise for you.” He winks and pulls you through the group of women with glittering dresses and warm sweaters.

Your heart hammers against your eardrums at Kiva’s words. “What do you mean?” you hastily ask. Kiva’s laughter mixes with the music while the two of you weave through the clusters of clones towards the CO table, a now long standing tradition at 79s even after the war. When you break through the last wall of party goers, the entire club blurs around you.

Kiva steps to your side, and the booth is empty with all but one person sitting behind the table with two glasses of Corellian whiskey. Ambient lighting dances across Wolffe’s tired expression, and you can just make out the small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. One that only makes a fleeting appearance when you’re nearby or mentioned in conversation.

“Happy Life Day,” Kiva expresses with a beaming smile, “Now go celebrate and enjoy the holiday festivities”.Before you can even thank him, Kiva shoots you a wink and disappears into the crowd once more. 

You watch in disbelief as that rare smile grows across Wolffe’s face while he moves out of the booth.Without a second thought, you stumble through the last few troopers wearing gray ribbons to throw yourself into Wolffe’s arms. “I thought you said you weren’t going to be home until after the holiday,” you choke out into his chest. Warm amber and musk mix to create Wolffe’s signature cologne, and you press yourself further into his embrace. His calloused hands roam across your back leaving sparks in their wake even when separated by your clothing.

“Your friend cupid has his ways,” Wolffe chuckles. His heart hammers as he reacquaints himself with your touch. How it feels to have his riduur in his arms once more. How the sound of your voice eases every worry from his mind. How being with you feels like home. Sliding his hands to your waist, he carefully pulls you from his body to fully be able to see you. Wolffe admires the small changes in your appearance as hues of blue, gold, and purple dance across your face. For just a moment, everything feels at peace. The anxiety of moving to another system in a few cycles disappears. None of the teasing remarks from his younger brothers get under his skin. Only you matter, and all the tension from his body dissipates. “Sorry, I got distracted. How are your eyes so pretty?” he murmurs almost to himself.

“Didn’t know you could be such a sap,” you sniffle with a light laugh. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Wolffe’s smile softens with remorse. “I know I haven’t been around as much as either of us had hoped. And I know I’ve let you down when I’ve missed important milestones for us this year. I wanted to make sure we could spend our first Life Day together,” he explains.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done anything wrong,” you rush to assure him. Tears sting your lasline from the overwhelming storm of emotion raging inside you. When you move to wipe the stray tears escaping, Wolffe tenderly cups your cheek with his hand. His calloused fingertip carefully traces the planes of your face and wipes away the tear from your cheek.

“I don’t,” Wolffe reassures you. “I know that this isn’t what we had imagined for either of our lives after the war, and I don’t want us to drift apart because of that. I’m here because I need you to understand that nothing is going to stop me from coming home to you. Nothing was going to stop me from spending Life Day with you this year or any year in the future, alright?”

All the loneliness and yearning from the cycles spent alone crash down onto you. Tears freely fall down your cheeks as you tuck yourself into the crook of Wolffe’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much,” you admit. “I didn’t want to say anything, because I know how much Plo and the GAR means to you, but I’ve missed you so much.” Your voice breaks at the end of your confession, and you pull away from his body to wipe your tears from your face.

“I’ve missed you, cyar’ika. More than you could imagine,” Wolffe mumbles into the top of your head. His heart stings at your cries, and he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. “I’m home now. It’s going to be okay, yeah? We’re going to figure this out”.

You let Wolffe guide you into the booth, and the two of you settle into the far corner. Draping your legs over his lap, you tuck yourself into his side and look at him in adoration. “We’re both a mess without each other, huh? Have absolutely no idea what to do without the other,” you tease. Wolffe chuckles and nods after taking a sip of his whisky. He ducks his head to press his lips to the shell of your ear and whispers: “Tell anyone and we may just have to leave early.” His warm breath tickles across your neck, and he squeezes your thigh as the rest of the Wolfpack join you with their partners.

For the first time during the holiday season, you’re able to sink into Wolffe’s arms and enjoy the company around you. Not a single member of the pack or their partners neglect to see how you’ve been. Plans begin to easily come into creation to squeeze in a few more holiday outings for you and Wolffe to join. A glimpse of the life that you hoped to create with Wolffe after the war finally playing out. Yet, it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t where you were currently at in life.

During a bout of laughter, you look over to Wolffe and find him already gazing at you with that all too familiar smile tugging at his lips. You cup his jaw and press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. Pulling away, the two of you share a look of adoration before sharing a soft kiss in the privacy of your own world. The two of you fall into rhythm with each other as if no time had passed. Lost in the moment, it’s not until his brothers start to howl and their partners tell them to leave you and Wolffe alone that the two of you break from the kiss.

“Mind your damn business,” Wolffe barks back to his snickering brothers. “How many times did I turn a blind eye to when you brought back your cy’are to the barracks?” Instantly the snickers silence as the older brothers laugh at the young clones.

Rolling his eyes as the conversation redirects to tomorrow’s outing, Wolffe pulls you closer into his side. Pressing a tender kiss to your temple, he rests his forehead against yours. “Happy Life Day, riduur”.

[smolvenger]

I Say Nothing That Frightens Me Part Three

Paring: Loki x fem! Reader

Series Summary: As a young Asgardian, you have grown to be friends and secretly pine for the younger Prince Loki. After his fury has sent him off, his mother sends you on a quest to find him and bring him home. Your quest makes you cross paths with a mysterious group that calls themselves the TVA. There, Loki can be found...but he loves someone named Sylvie, not you.

Chapter Word Count: 2K

Part One//Part Two (This will be in Four Parts)

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over (shout out for the idea when I was stuck!) @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @lovelysizzlingbluebird @wolfsmom1

Warnings: Mostly some cursing. I use an oldie-but-goodie Fanfic Trope. Lack of detailed editing and multiple drafts because I just want to get this done-fuck it, we ball I say as I type this. But lots of fluffy moments and only tiny bits of angst and lots of references to canon

“What do you mean my brother’s not back?” Loki cried.

You sat in your chair, leaning back on it. Folding your arms. You couldn’t help but huff through your nose. You were looking forward to the grand victory banquet that would be at home. Frigga declaring you Asgard’s heroine. Seeing a family reunited. Wine and platters overfilling with joyful music. Even a parade and ball thrown in your honor as a medal shone on your armor for good measure. That kind of stuff.

“Thor. Is not. Back.” Steve repeated.

Guess that would have to wait.

“How come?” you questioned.

“Because they need help specifically with him. It involves thunder. That’s what Beefcake’s out there doing,” Tony continued.

Loki put a hand to his forehead and sighed.

“Do you know when he’ll be back? Even for a break?” you asked.

Steve shrugged as he sat. He squinted his blue eyes to think and then looked at you. His eyes softened and he spoke in a reassuring tone.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Shouldn’t take him too long. You know he’s incredible. He could be back by tomorrow…”

“Or dead,” Tony quipped.

Loki’s black head whipped around; you could see the veins on his neck tighten.

“Do you honestly think this is the time for your little jokes?” Loki replied, face becoming red.

Natasha cut in from where she was leaning against the wall. Up to then, she’d just stood there, arms folded and observant.

“If I had to guess, he should be back in headquarters by a week. We’ll ask Shield to get in touch with him.”

“Alright…thank you. It’s important…” you replied.

“How come?” she asked, taking a few steps forward.

“The Queen asked me to return him,” you explained.

“No problem…if you need anything, you can always ask,” Natasha offered.

You felt her eyes over your Asgardian armor and clothes. But the slight smile showed your approval. It made you smile back.

“Of course.”

“There’s food in the fridge too- help yourself while you’re here!” Natasha offered.

“You both can both even stay here as long as you like…as long as Loki doesn’t get inspiration again,” Steve offered.

Loki shot him a look, crossing his arms like a dour child.

“Thank you! I’d rather we stay here in case Thor reappears. You’re very kind…”

“No, he’s not! Are you out of your mind, Steve?” Tony interrupted.

Your head turned and tilted at them.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked.

“Why? We’re obligated to show some basic human decency to them!” Steve argued.

“Why? I’ll tell you why-why don’t you waltz on over to the Guest room and see!” Tony offered.

As you and Loki walked there, you both understood his point. Honestly, you should have taken the hint from the last sentence. It was a singular word. Room. There was only one bed in that room.

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

That night both of you lay in the bed together, curled away from each other. Both of you were in pajamas. You selected some silk red pajamas. Loki picked some in his favorite green. Both funded by Stark, of course. Neither of you offered to sleep on the floor of the couch. Neither of you wanted to sleep on the floor of the couch. You could hear his soft breathing and though you stared out into the night sky and outline of the city, you found despite the long, arduous day…your mind kept you up.

You thought you heard him shuffle next to you.

“Anything you want to say?” you asked.

“None…really…only this…don’t think I’m not grateful, Y/N.”

You turned over, blankets rustling in your movement.

“How come?”

“You risked all that and went through that…because you worried about me. I never thought people worried about me.”

“Your mother worries about you. Thor worries about you…and I worry about you…” you replied.

He turned over to meet you.

“Y/N…thank you…”

“Thank you? I never heard you uttered those words before…and I thought you were the polite brother…” you commented.

“Now you have.”

He broke into a smile.

You looked down and saw his arm.

“How’s your cut doing?”

“Much better- not stinging anymore…”

“From the pain or the alcohol on it?”

“Both…”

You then turned back to the outline.

“I’ve only been to this city once. Traveled all the way up there from the countryside of this place…I was in such a rush to find you, get there I never…never noticed how pretty it is…” you mused.

“We should explore it.”

“What, really?”

“Yes, really. Should be more amusing than sitting around the tower all day waiting for Thor.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m tired of being on the run. Or fighting. Or struggling…I just want to..enjoy something. And preferably not alone.”

“You’re not alone, Loki. You never were…”

“Neither were you…”

There was a brief pause.

“Do you have your magic back?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t do this usually but…Can you conjure something to help me sleep? Wine or tea or something?” you asked.

Loki flicked his wrist and conjured the drink. He handed it over.

“You need only ask.”

You stood up to drink the cup as he settled himself back in. Soon you both fell asleep peacefully.

The next day, Tony practically tossed a credit card on you as if it was mere confetti.

“Go ahead- Max it out. Have fun, kids…just don’t do any invasions, okay? Okay!” he said.

Both of you wandered out to the city. As you walked on, it was nearly overwhelming. The skyscrapers were as tall as the statues of the warriors through the Asgardian cloudy streets. Fried foods overcame your nose and made you salivate.

“I never tried one of there!” you said, pointing to a food stand selling hot dogs.

As you both brought it to your mouth and smelled it, then you ate.

“Norns! This is delicious!” you said. You experimentally took the packet of red sauce called “KETCHUP” and slathered it on there.

“I am not sure what it’s made of…but I don’t care,” Loki said as he took another careful bite.

“Don’t you think…don’t you think we should ask the kitchen to replicate it! Shouldn’t be too hard- some meat and bread!”

“I can conjure that easily! You only have to cut it like so …

Loki conjured a slab of ham. Too many people walking by talking on phones or listening with ear buds barely noticed him. He had the ham cut into a hot dog shape.

“And then fix the bread like this.”

Bread in the shape of a long oval cut open floated in air. The sausage fit into the roll.

“- and there you have it!”

Both of you took a walk out in the park.

“So you invaded New York to rule, right?” you asked as you walked.

“I must tell you…I think…something influenced me?”

“Your addiction to self-destruction?” you asked.

“The Mind Stone.”

“What?”

“And Thanos.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

Hands in pockets, you both walked. He kept talking. Too many people were on their phones, listening to music, or looking after children or dogs.

“Well then…that…that makes sense…”

“Why else would I get those headaches?” he asked.

Both of you kept walking. The trees shook with the breeze, and you heard a bee buzz by you. But you could see a tiredness, a sadness in Loki’s eyes.

“What do you think now, Y/N? Of me? I became the very enemy you’ve been trained since a child to fight,” he said.

“I…I don’t that…I think you’re good. You were only hurt. And you made some bad choices. I don’t consider any of that unforgivable…especially since it probably wasn’t your fault to begin with.”

There was silence. You wrapped him into a hug. He was always warm, despite the summer heat. Always enveloping. You could smell the sandalwood of the shampoo he used in headquarters.

“Why should we stay in the past, anyway?” you then questioned with a smile.

“I just worry…who knows what he’s capable of…” he fretted.

Both of you noticed a puddle on the ground. You walked around it, your reflections from below passing by like the clouds.

“Loki…you need to tell your brother. And the Avengers. Let them know. Let them know it wasn’t entirely your fault- only partly. And they will want to know about Thanos,” you told him.

He smiled a little.

“Well, then, if you ask it, I shall…” he replied.

You walked and walked about all day. By the time you both sat on a bench in the park, the soreness of your feet struck you. You were so lost in each other’s company you lost track of the time.

The next day, other than some walking, you insisted you both go shopping. There were too many shops here to resist. Especially those with multiple stories. And Midgaurdian fashion fascinated you. The shops back home had only one floor. Some in New York had twenty.

“Is there a store that strikes your fancy?” you asked Loki, passing by.

He pointed to one window that showed a variety of suits.

“I think…I’d like to try one…”

“Then lets!” you offered, pulling his hand inside.

You go to a classy store. The employees wore dresses and suits. It played jazz and people walked around with drinks of coffee or champagne. So much finery. He then settled on a few as an employee guided him around.

You sat down, waiting for him to emerge and then he did. The employee dropped their jaw and grinned.

Loki was in an all black- black shirt and black suit. It made his skin and beautiful hands stick out even more. It was crisp and clean and fit him like a glove.

“I…I look…” he began to mutter.

‘I’ll say it, you look handsome!” you cheered. You took him to a mirror so he could admire himself.

That evening, you decided to end it by going to a wine bar. It was lovely and wooden. There were even giant lamps that looked like flowers. You ahd ordered two glasses for each of you and enough food to feed a giant. Which, in fact, you were in the company of one.

“Hmmm, nice and dry. Some fruity overtones. Quite good.”

“I don’t mind. Wine is wine. And it’s good.”

“Well, you haven’t drank enough wine then, Y/N!”

“I only would drink it at banquets!”

You then held the rim of your glass.

You then held the rim of your glass.

“Loki…be honest with me…am I a good warrior?”

“Of course, you are.”

“I…I just would always use to lose fights. And you know when I’d run away as a child…”

“I do not see you running away very often, darling.”

“There is training, but this is reality…”

“What did mother ask you to do? To face every danger to find me? And you did.”

You blinked at him.

“I think you are a good warrior. No matter what you might think of yourself.”

“I…uh…thank you…”

He raised the glass.

“Cheers?”

“Cheers,” you replied.

You tapped the glass and then drank it.

“I think I know what you’re talking about…I do taste the overtones a bit,” you commented.

“I think you should become a connoisseur in no time, Y/N,” he said.

It was the next day he announced something almost ludicrous.

“Y/N, we should see a play or these ‘musicals’ New York is known for!” Loki suggested that next afternoon.

“Who said we had to spend money?” he asked with a wink.

You looked through the calendar of shows. First for musicals, since they were less common back home. And the more melodramatic, Loki said, the better. One was selected.

Both of you located the theatre and got there at an earlier time, right when the crew and cast would walk in before the show. Using the billboards, he transformed himself and you into two ensemble members.

Once you walked in, already there was one crew member.

“Oh, hello! How are you? Traffic, okay? Break legs tonight- remember- check the notes! Phil fixed your tights too so thank her!” they chatted.

Both of you walked out. Your heart beat fast seeing these people miff about. Knowing you were doing something forbidden.

“Please- Y/N! Don’t get lost backstage!” he whispered to you.

“But Loki- look at this set piece!! And the costumes here- so beautiful!”

“Don’t wander off-here!”

He clasped your hand, entwining fingers with yours.

“Besides, we have to get our seats,” he said.

As the actors in street clothes, you both walked over to the front of the theatre and then to the lobby bathrooms. Empty, thank the Allfather. With a flick of his wrist, green light emerged over you. He reappeared in a fine tuxedo and his hair back. But when you looked, you blinked and saw you had a red dress on. It was very flattering on your body. Straps went over your shoulders and the shade looked perfect for your skin.

Both of you walked out. The crowd was already walking in, holding playbills in hand. Yet you couldn’t help but keep staring at yourself in the mirror. There was a large, stupid smile on your face.

“I have to admit, you have good taste. This is beautiful!” you gasped, turning at angles to admire yourself.

“You are beautiful!” Loki replied.

You both froze and looked.

“I mean! I mean…you always were beautiful!” he added on. Though his face did turn pink. The God of mischief and mayhem and here he was-embarrassed.

“Uh…thank you!” you responded.

Both of you walked forward to find the odd empty seats. Then enjoyed the show.

You did the same each night.  You saw the most melodramatic musicals. It was hard to believe amidst all the wine drinking, walks, store visits, and shows, that four days passed by.

Both of you were walking in late on the fourth day after seeing your latest show. Both of you smiling from how his magic worked wonders and from everything you saw and experienced.

“Y/N, can I tell you something?” he asked.

Both of you entered your room.

“Sure, tell me…”

“Sylvie betrayed me. I did everything for her and still…I can’t tell you what a pathetic sad sack I became. But…Y/N, this week…I…I had fun…”

“I did too…”

His own magic made you both clean. No need for waiting for a shower. You both were tired-as well as changed into pajamas.

“You’re pretty damn efficient, Loki. Thanks for that.”

“I’m not waiting until midnight to bathe…” he quipped.

“Sleep well, Y/N…”

“You too…”

There was no turning around. This time, you curled towards each other. His smiling face was the last thing you saw before sleeping.

Then there was a noise and the sound of boots. You barely blinked awake. The grogginess of your deep sleep letting you go of its peaceful embrace. And it was still dark in the room, your eyes adjusted.

There were people- agents all in armor and helmets.

“Y/N! Y/N! What are you doing? Disrupting the sacred timeline!”

“What! What timeline?”

He jolted out of bed.

“You will NOT have her! You won’t!”

But it was too late. One agent took their long stick with blue at the end and stuck it on you. An electric fizz washed down your body, head to toe. You heard Loki cry out your name as everything turned to black.

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

When you came to, you were not in New York. In New York the buildings were lovely, tall, and completely built. Here, everything was ruined and desolate. And it was an overcast day. Your heart beat fast and you could taste dirt. It stuck you that you were laying on the ground. You could taste dirt.

“Ah, are you a Loki too?” was the voice you heard.

“Wait…no she isn’t,” said another.

“No…it’s…it’s a Y/N…” another muttered.

They all lowered their jaws. A tall, muscular man covered in furs. An old man in a silly costume. A dark-haired boy in green. And oddest of all, a tiny alligator all staring at you. And though you didn't know them, they knew you.

“A Y/N! The President’s gonna find out…they all are soon…”

[rscroogedraws]

Here are a couple of my favorite (not too spoiler-ific) scenes from a couple of my in-progress fan fics.

I've had an uphill battle with bad writer's block and inconsistency with any kind of creative fiction for the past several years now. It hurt having such a hard time with that since I've wanted to become some kind of fiction author since I was six and I used to actively write analyses for YouTube stuff. So the fact I've eked out a couple chapters for each of these feels like a huge accomplishment to me.

I appreciate all of the feedback or interest I've gotten for pretty much any of my projects over the past year or so. Seriously, even if you're just leaving a like, it's made a difference to me knowing someone enjoyed my work enough to take a second to interact with them in that kind of capacity.

A03 is down for maintenance at the time I'm posting. I'll update these with links once they're back up later today or tomorrow.

Edit: Links have been added!

Not Quite an Elevator Pitch

O.K. K.O. Let's Be Heroes! Fan Fic

Synopsis: Professor Venomous is back in Lakewood Plaza Turbo! He thought returning would be as easy as move back into Boxmore and start attacking the Plaza. Instead, he's not quite sure what to do next and is trying to find himself. Then he gets stuck in an elevator with someone unexpected and they give him a much-needed reality check.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56784448/chapters/144365029

Snippet from Ch. 2: Definitely Not Silver Spark

When Venomous awoke the next morning, he was surprised he slept at all. He wandered into the living room and read 9:08 AM on the digital oven clock. That was a personal achievement after the last week or so of staying up until 4:00 AM, hanging in there long enough to pull together a bare bones breakfast and box lunch for Fink, and then crashing until 5 or 6 before Fink returned from school or Boxmore.

He padded into the kitchen as he mentally cataloged notes to send with Fink on why she was late as well as easy but actually nutritious lunches to send with her. So much of him hated that he’d relied on Snackables so much the past few days. He kept imagining an okay-ish tuna sandwich next to flimsy cardboard packaging with crackers, dubious lunch meat, plastic cheese, and radioactive colored candy. Fink loved it. She bragged that her friends were jealous with a big grin on her face. That was now. What kind of look would she give him when she was in her early 30’s and remembered that he knew how to competently cook but opted for shortcuts instead?

That train of thought wasn’t even needed. Today was Saturday. Fink said she’d be gaming. Then Venomous found a note attached to the fridge: Hey Boss! The tournament got rescheduled. So I’m helping Raymond and Shannon raid a cruise liner today! They have lobster. I’ll make sure to bring home leftovers.

A mix of hurt and pride panged through Venomous. Previously, Fink asked to join him on every villainous caper, business trip, or big event. Lately, if she wasn’t gaming with friends, she was hanging out with her step-siblings or new friends somewhere “irl.” She still said hi, let him know where she was going, and kept a generally friendly rapport. After the horror stories Venomous heard from other parents about teenagers, that had to mean something. Fink was just starting to enter her teenage years though. There was still time for heLinkr to develop resentment towards him.

That’s probably how K.O. felt right now. He had every reason to hate PV and never talk to him again. That’d been earned. Very painfully earned. The part of him that still gripped his head on straight with little ribbons of hot glue and sticky tack knew he should leave all of that alone. The part of him that was itching to throw back a full bottle of absinthe before 11:00 in the morning was making a beeline for his phone.

He’d dialed the number before stronger self-control would have stopped him.

“...hello?” Silver Spark’s voice drifted in from the other line. “Carol speaking. Sorry for not recognizing your number. I think it’s been long enough since we exchanged numbers I don’t remember. Who is this?”

“…Lase-Professor Venomous.” He swallowed heavily and felt like he’d been hit by an intense bolt of lightning. “Professor Venomous.”

“Um...oh. Ahm, okay.” She didn’t sound completely upset but her tone wasn’t as pleasant as before either. “Did you need something for paperwork?”https://archiveofourown.org/works/56784448/chapters/144365029

“….no.”

“Okay….” Carol cleared her throat. “We got all of your child support payments. If that’s what you were calling about. Everything on that front has been smooth sailing.”

“Good.” Venomous stared intensely at the nearest kitchen counter. There was a marbling pattern over everything he hadn’t noticed before.

“Yeah….” Impatience was starting to creep into Carol’s tone.

“I’m sorry.” The words just tumbled out. “I’m sorry….about everything.”

It felt like time itself stopped. If the oven clock digital display wasn’t flashing, Venomous would have started entertaining the thought of a time wizard or a highly-advanced lizard creature with space-time warping powers crawling around the apartment. Almost two agonizing minutes passed. Carol’s breathing on the other end of the phone became a little strained.

“Are you okay?” Of course he had to follow up dropping an emotional bomb with an equally stupid foot-in-mouth comment.

“Professor Venomous,” Carol said with a slight stutter. “I-If we’re talking about this, I’d rather do it in person.”

“I...understand.” He felt his heart start fluttering around his rib cage like a hummingbird desperately trying to break free.

****

Our Beloved Docktor Frogg

League of Super Evil Fan Fic with some O.K. K.O.! crossover references

Synopsis: Docktor Frogg is starting to feel stagnant towards his overall life and career as a mad scientist. He wonders if the grass is greener somewhere else working for someone other than Voltar the Saturday morning cartoon flop.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56704720/chapters/144145309

Snippet from Part II: Sandwich Artist Gene

“Can I take your order?” The waitress’ voice was familiar but Frogg couldn’t quite place why.

“Lizzy?” Frogg immediately shot up at Voltar’s excited tone of voice. “It’s been awhile! How are you?”

“It’s Elizabeth, Voltar.” Lightning Liz, sans her trademark yellow exo-suit, stood behind the counter in a light blue polo shirt, washed out capris, a black apron, and a nametag with her name written in the same crude scrawl as the sign out front. It’d been a few years since Frogg had seen Liz in person instead of the newspaper or videos on various news sites. So it floored him a bit how much older she was now. Didn’t she just graduate from high school not too long ago?

He remembered Voltar gushing about Liz graduating as class salutatorian as if she was his younger sister.

“I’m doing great!” Liz continued with a small and genuine smile. “You got the invite for Tiff and I’s wedding, right? You better RSVP. Soon.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Voltar flapped his hand. “I saw the many, many links for your wedding registry. I haven’t RSVP’d yet because I’m working on getting that-”

“Don’t tell me what you ordered! It’ll ruin the surprise.” Liz squealed. “I have something fantastic in mind for your birthday later this year too. You better keep that day open if you know what’s good for you.”

“I have it marked on my planner. Whole day is open.”

“Good.”

“So, we have this coupon….” Voltar pointed towards Red and not so subtly shifted his gaze towards the thin strip of paper in Red’s big hand.

“Yeah, yeah.” Liz returned the sass Voltar dished out less than a minute ago. “So, I’m getting the vegan sandwich for him.” She pointed at Red. “An extra meaty sandwich for him with extra provolone cheese.” She pointed at Frogg. “And you want the meatball sub with the works?”

At that, Voltar gasped and his antennae started shaking with his excitement. “You guys have that extra spicy mustard?!”

“Of course!” Liz nodded, but her cheerful disposition immediately turned sour. “I skimmed the 4-page essay you sent me about it.”

When Voltar whooped and started doing a victory dance in the middle of the restaurant, Frogg visibly shuddered and looked around Red to see if any other stools were open.

“You’ll be happy to know you’re not the only one that has a weird fascination with that mustard.” Liz sighed. “There was a weird woman in here the other day raving about it too.”

“From now on, I’m the only one getting that mustard here!” Voltar declared with an anime gesture fist to the air. “I get exclusive rights to it. Exclusive.”

“I still think you’re the only one that actually likes it,” Frogg said. “I don’t-”

“Don’t. Get. Him. Started.” Liz jabbed a finger in Frogg’s face for emphasis on each word and matched the points with a warning glare.

“How did you know what sandwiches we wanted?” Red tilted his head. “Are you psychic?”

“No.” Liz placed her hands on her hips. “Voltar writes about you guys on his blog.”

“You have a blog….” Frogg scratched his scalp. The past 5 minutes had revealed a lot about a side of Voltar that Frogg didn’t know much about, except for the spicy mustard obsession. Metrotown might not know that L.O.S.E. existed but random strangers definitely knew how particular Voltar was about his condiments.

“It’s not a blog! It’s supposed to be a newsletter…” Voltar grumbled.

“I told you that Zitter would get more reach,” Liz said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I’m hungry. Can we place our orders now?” Voltar deliberately looked anywhere but Liz’s face.

“SANDWICH ARTIST GENE!” Liz yelled. “Order up!”

That’s when a painfully familiar face appeared at the order window in the kitchen. There was a surprisingly jovial Justice Gene with a wrinkled paper hat sitting on his head at an awkward angle. He had a couple of deep shadows under his eyes but otherwise, he had a legitimate smile on his face instead of the haughty, try-hard smirk Frogg was used to.

Liz rattled off food service industry shorthand that Frogg would never be able to translate despite his best efforts. Then Gene looked up a moment later. Recognition flashed across his face and Frogg was tapping his claws in a vain attempt to prepare the laser engraver setting he installed there a few days ago. Maybe it could be used as a laser gun with the right angle and a little imagination.

“Hey guys!” Gene said, emulating the friendly and personable air that came naturally to Red Menace but was really awkward on him. “Didn’t expect to see you at opening week of my new restaurant. I’m happy you’re willing to bury the hatchet to support a budding young entrepreneur!”

“I don’t know about young…” Frogg muttered under his breath while thinking about the gray hairs he’d pulled out of his scraggly tree of hair earlier this morning.

“What’s the catch, Gene?” Voltar snapped. “We haven’t seen you in almost a year and now you’ve lured us out with delicious subs. I demand to know what you’re planning!”

“There’s no catch,” Gene said. “I just got tired of not getting anywhere in the hero biz. Even for the five minutes I was a hero, I was still the guy that cleaned toilets and picked up fancy coffee orders. It was worse with an official costume because even though I’d technically made it, nobody respected me. I think you guys of all people know what that’s like…”

Both Gene’s personal account and the way his face fell struck an unnervingly deep chord with Frogg. The mix of sympathy and existential dread hit his heart hard enough it felt physical. He looked down and saw himself gripping the fabric of his lab coat right over his heart.

“The one thing everybody liked were my sub sandwiches.” A dreamy expression drifted onto Gene’s face. “The only time I got a real compliment from Glory Guy was for my magic touch with the panini press. I got demoted to trash collector one day and just started thinking ‘Is this the rest of my life?’ As I spent the day collecting trash, all I could think about were sandwiches. How sourdough is the king of bread. Flatbread is a perfect base for a classic BLT. I realized then: Instead of a superhero, maybe my calling is...making the perfect hero sandwiches for superheroes!” Gene gave an awkward laugh. “And everybody else, of course! Villains included. Everybody deserves a good, home-made sandwich.”

“I didn’t ask for your life story, Gene,” Voltar scowled.

“I’m so happy for you!” Red gushed and his affirmation drowned out Voltar’s snark. “You deserve to be happy. I hope you’re successful!”

Gene’s face was red and he bashfully ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

****

[happilydistinguishedbanana]

Fallen Pt. 1: Questions

Authors note: Ahhh I’m so excited for this!! This is a alternate reality where the reader wakes up in the Star Wars universe!! I have been wanting to do this for a while, but I have not been the first. I would like to credit Eagleness and Talita01 on AO3 for the idea. If there is anyone else who has done the same, please let me know! This is also pre-Echo era, but he will appear later. Also please let me know if I should choose just a single batcher for the reader to be with or all of them!

Warnings: Blood, vomiting

Summary: One day I’m watching my favorite show in my college dorm room. The next morning I wake up in a hospital with no idea how I got there and two Jedi who are just as confused as myself.

Word count: 2458

Relationship: Undecided Batcher(s) x Female Reader

Part 2

As much as I loved bar hopping with my friends and drinking until I can’t tell the difference between left and right, I hate waking up the next morning with a hangover and a 2,000 word essay due for my college midterm.

“Come on, Sweetie.” My friend Corey moaned, her arm grasping my own with a vice like grip. “Just a few drinks and then we’ll take you home.”

I rolled my eyes. The last time they promised that, I got home after 4:00 am and missed two of my morning classes. Although it didn’t make much of a difference then, I couldn’t afford it this time. “No, I’m not going.”

“What a buzzkill.” One of Corey’s friends whispered to her obnoxious boyfriend. I never liked her and her long nails and her fried hair that she straightened far too often. Her voice sounded like metal scratching on metal and I had no idea how she managed to become friends with someone as nice as Corey. But maybe Corey was the desperate one.

“I’m sorry Corey.” I whispered. “I can’t go tonight, I have stuff due tomorrow.”

She frowned, but dropped my arm and shuffled over to her other friends. She looked back and forth between me and my dorm room's door. “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, her fingers lightly gripping the doorknob. They trembled.

“Corey-”

“Let’s go.” Her friend whined, coddling up to her boyfriend as if she would die if she stood there any longer. I don’t think he minded though seeing as he groped her in the ass. “This new bar opened up, right by that good Chinese place. I’m staaarving.”

“Yeah, come on Corey.” The boyfriend jumped in. “We’re wasting time sitting around here.”

“Leave her, girl.” The girl clicked her tongue impatiently. Sometimes I wonder how Corey got dragged into being friends with people like that. They’re nothing special, and even she doesn’t seem to like them. Maybe I’m delusional.

“Alright.” Corey nodded, giving me one last look before opening the door and leaving with her lackluster friends. I couldn’t help but notice the unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

I pulled out my phone quickly to send her a text, but my battery was dead. Stumbling through my dorm, I frantically searched for a charger. Under the bed, in the dresser, on my nightstand, even inside the mini fridge, but it was like it vanished.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I ran my hands through my hair. If I couldn’t find my cord, I wouldn’t be able to text Corey, and if her friends are as bad as they seem, they might leave her to find a way back to the dorms. What if she needed a ride? What if something happens? What if she just needs a friend to talk to?

I tapped my foot nervously before deciding that slumping down in my bed and pulling out my computer would be my best course of action. Maybe finishing my essay would distract me enough.

I scroll through what I had written, rereading paragraph after paragraph only to find that everything was finished and edited. All I would need to do was print the damn thing and submit it tomorrow morning. I could have gone out with Corey after all.

But it was too late to do anything about it now. My hands moved to open a new tab and click onto the familiar bookmark that I kept close to my heart. The website started up and I eagerly opened my favorite pastime of my college years. The Bad Batch.

I had watched the infamous Star Wars saga when I was young, usually with a bowl of popcorn and my favorite drink to go with. My father watched the first ever movie when he was just a child in 1977 and after he had kids of his own, he wanted them to experience the same joy he had felt. It stuck with me and I continued to watch any show related to it since.

But the Bad Batch was something I had gotten into a little later than everyone else. Both seasons were released when I started watching it and after several long months, today was the day I was going to finish it. It would have been exciting if I didn’t already know what happened. Spoilers still reached my ears no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.

“Plan 99.” Tech said through the screen, my own lips quoting every word. I watched him fall to his death and despite knowing he was going to die, I still felt sad. But I did not cry, I hardly ever cried when I was sad and this certainly was not an exception. And maybe a part of that was influenced because Tech’s death just didn’t feel solid. It felt fake. It didn’t feel as real as when Echo “died” or when Gregor “died.” Something was missing from the equation.

My eyes started to droop by the time I finished the final episode. I checked the clock to see it was past 12:00. Corey wasn’t home, she wouldn’t be at this time. I tried to stay up to wait for her, to make sure she came back all in one piece. But the draw of sleep was just too hard to resist. I fell into a fitful rest.

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

I did not share a room with anyone, so when I drifted awake, I laid rigidly when I heard several voices just outside the door. Several male voices though they sounded strangely familiar.

When I opened my eyes, I became even more confused. This was not my room. Bright lights were shining on me as if I was some test subject. There were medical monitors and white walls and the stale smell of medicine and disinfectant.

A hospital. I was in a hospital.

I sat up and took in my surroundings even more. I wore a medical gown, there were no handles on the doors, the male voices outside were still there, a… droid was sifting through a drawer on the opposite side of the room?

My breath caught in my throat. A part of me knew that I was not in any danger, but seeing a hunk of metal the size of a grown man, pulling out needles and bottles out of a drawer did nothing to calm my nerves. I certainly did not feel any better when he? It? Turned to me and started speaking in a language I did not know.

“Wait!” I jumped out of the cot when it tried to grab me by the arm. I stumbled back into some of the equipment, glass and metal and wires crashing into the floor with me. The droid skittered around still speaking gibberish as if it became flustered and confused.

I whipped my head around when the door slid open. I audibly gasped when none other than Mace Windu and Obi Wan Kenobi stepped through the door, their lightsabers in their hands like second nature, ready for use.

They were on alert until they saw me on the floor. They sheathed their sabers and gave each other a look I couldn’t read.

Windu went to calm down the droid while Obi Wan headed over to me. He was speaking to me, saying words I’m sure anyone else could understand. I stared at him blankly and suddenly he stopped, turned, said a few words to Windu, and then pulled me up by the shoulder and placed me back on the cot. He then ushered the droid out of the room leaving Windu and I alone.

I could feel pain in my shoulder, and I reached back with my hand to find out why. It came back bloody. I shivered before rushing over to the sink at the other end of the room and vomited. I felt a warm hand on my back and mumbled words which I knew were words or reassurance. But I still couldn’t understand anything.

Windu started to dress my wound, though it was done rather poorly. He said nothing more to me, and it gave me a moment to think.

I’ve seen stuff similar to this in movies and T.V shows.Young boys traveling to the past, superheroes ending up in alternate universes, people using telephone booths as a time machine, I’ve even had dreams about similar concepts. But this certainly didn’t feel like a dream. I never had a dream that felt so real, I never felt pain in a dream, never felt the coolness of air filtering in through a vent, never smelt the stale disinfectant smell of hospitals. Could this reality be real?

Windu finished right in time for Obi Wan to return, a datapad in hand. They both chatted to each other quietly, Obi Wan waving the device in the air. Windu nodded and then left the room.

I watched Obi Wan hesitantly. He was one of my favorite characters, but I don’t throw my trust around blindly. And knowing him, I’m sure he doesn’t trust me either.

He approached me and pushed the data pad close to my mouth. He pointed a finger at his lips, said a few words, and then pointed to the data pad. It picked up his words, printing them onto the screen and displaying them in a language that I had seen written on billboards in the show but never took the time to understand.

I opened my mouth to speak and said the first thing that came to mind. “I need to fucking pee.”

It took a moment for the scanner to pick up what I said, but eventually words started to form on the screen. Obi Wan turned it around, looked at it and then laughed. His eyes glittered while he tinkered with the device and then he spoke a few more words into it and handed it over to me.

How badly? It read.

I gave him a knowing look and he laughed again and gestured towards the door. I felt a bit vulnerable in just my gown, but I followed him anyway. We weren’t on Kamino, I knew that much. Maybe Coruscant? There weren't any windows in the medical facility I was put in. The walls were white and medical droids and other patients walked the hallways, but there wasn’t a clone in sight. It must be a local hospital.

Obi Wan was speaking to me as best as he could through the datapad. Simple questions like my name and age and how I ended up passed out in front of the Jedi Temple. That was something I could not answer. I kept quiet for the most part about where I was from or what I was doing before now. If it was true that I fell through into another universe, I don’t think it would be smart to tell a Jedi Master that.

The bathrooms are just up ahead. He said and I thanked him.

Eventually he took me outside the facility, and I got a view of what was the bustling city planet known as Coruscant. Speeders and ships flew through the air, hundreds of people and aliens alike walked the streets as if today was just any other day. For them it was a normal day. For me, it might have been my worst nightmare.

We walked to the Jedi Temple, the sheer size intimidating. I started to think that they might use some Jedi mind tricks on me, break down any sanity I had just to find the truth. And then another part of me thought that they had no idea and really I was just some random girl who showed up on their doorstep. But what worried me the most was if they thought I was some Separatist spy. Thinking that made me question which was worse. Psychological torture or physical torture.

But all of my worries vanished once we were inside. It was like everything suddenly got brighter, happier, and more peaceful. It was like a breath of fresh air, and suddenly I was calm. Jedis clad in long robes of brown and white and gray walked casually about, their footsteps eerily quiet. It smelt like honeysuckle and tea. Old. It smelt really old.

Kenobi spoke again. I glanced at the datapad in my hands. You’ve calmed. I nodded and he continued to talk. You weren’t before. I could sense your unease, but I could also sense that you are familiar with me and Master Windu. Isn’t that right?

I didn’t answer. He wasn’t wrong, I knew him a hell of a lot more than he might think. Windu more or less.

“Why are we here?” I asked as if I was clueless.

To talk. He said no more.

It was intimidating to be in front of some of the strongest Jedis in the Star Wars universe. They all eyed me like I was something to be feared, something to be watched and kept on a five foot long leash. And I felt vulnerable and scared, my shoulders still boring that sickly smelling hospital gown.

Each had their own datapad, all except for Master Yoda. They asked questions, simple at first, almost the same things Obi Wan had asked me earlier, and then they started asking me things that required more complicated answers. Sometimes I would only give half answers, sometimes I would give no answers at all. But I would not lie. It would be pointless if I did.

They came to a verdict at the end of it all. I would be assigned a clone force, I wasn’t told which, but I had my suspicions. I would be watched, listened to, examined and picked apart at.

“Honest, you have not.” Yoda told me. Those were the first words I heard in a language I actually knew. “Find out, we will.”

I was put in a nice room in the Jedi Temple, but it lacked the warmth of a well lived home. Everything was white, the sun shined in, bouncing off the walls and encompassing my room in this bright glow. I hated it. The bed was comfortable, but it didn’t compare to my room back at the college. There were nice clothes in the closet. I could tell they were put there just this day. It reminded me of what Senator Amidala was so often seen wearing in the show. I would hardly compare even if I dressed in the fine and flowy silks.

I’d fallen asleep feeling exhausted emotionally. But deep down, somewhere in that small part of me that was actually excited to be here, I wished that whoever I was put with, I hoped it was the rowdy bunch known as The Bad Batch.

[youvebeenlivingfictionalnbcyoa]

You Definitely Are Not

Starting Choose Your Own Adventure Post

Warnings: Cursing; fluff; innuendo; mentions of masturbation

“You know what, I had a long walk, and if I’m gonna be around you guys for the next few days, I should rest up while I still can.” You smile blandly. “Where’s my room?” 

Nathan shifts from foot to foot, brow furrowing before he concedes, “Alright. C’mon.” 

You take up your backpack, shifting it onto your shoulder and following him down a few halls. 

“Here,” He nods toward the keypad. You mutter your thanks, raising your hand, swiping it and pushing the door open when it unlocks. You step inside, looking around. The room is large, and furnished more nicely than you’d expected. You shrug your bag off, dropping it at the end of the bed and drifting deeper inside. You lightly trail your fingers over the end of the bed, looking at the screen, then down at the small glowing fridge. 

“Like it?” Bateman asks. 

“It’s nice,” You nod, glancing back at him. 

“Nicer than you thought?” 

“Way nicer than I thought,” You nod. “I thought you’d be one of those like, weirdly stingy rich guys. I was expecting an air mattress.”

“I can get you an air mattress.” 

“I said I was expecting it, not that I wanted it.”

“What else were you expecting?” 

“Well,” You sigh, planting your hands on your hips, “I was hoping you’d actually turn up to the field in, like, a Jeep from the set of Jurassic Park.” 

“Maybe get Will to do the, uh—The sunglasses pull off when I pull up to the facility.” 

“He’d do it.” 

“So you would be the Ellie Satler in that scenario?” 

“Eesh, I don’t know. I think if he gripped and turned my head, I’d sock him in the stomach.” 

You glance around, eyeing the ceilings before you wave your fingers toward them. “So how many cameras are in here?”

“You really think I’d do that?” 

“Of course you would. Just give me a ballpark. One? Two?” 

“More than one, fewer than ten.”

“Ten?!”

“I’ll send Kyoko down with your dinner,” Nathan turns, heading for the door.  

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, hang on—Ten?”

“Fewer than. You allergic to any foods?” 

“That’s on the form you had us all send in before we got here. Where the hell are the cameras?” 

Nathan just turns, smiles, and offers, “Happy hunting,” Before he leaves, shutting the door behind himself. 

--  

You think it’s a joke at first—and then you manage to find three. You rummage through your bag, eyes darting warily toward the recessed camera in the corner of the room, the one at the base of the television, and the one in the bathroom. You lean back on your heels. Hopefully he won’t fire you, or charge you for what you’re about to do. Hell, hopefully he’s not watching at this exact moment. You’d brought your little laser pointed at the last moment as a precaution. You raise your pointer, blinking it on and shining it in the camera lens. You can only hope that it causes the damn thing to actually malfunction—and that Nathan won't realize it until you’ve left. 

You toss your laser pointer back into your bag before you crouch down, grabbing your sweatpants and a t-shirt. You’re going to shower, check some fucking emails, edit a pitch desk, eat dinner, and then you’re getting some fucking sleep. 

--  

You were planning on getting some fucking sleep, but once you lay down, you just can’t settle. Some part of you is worried that there are other cameras that you missed. Besides that, jet lag just isn’t hitting you like you thought it would. You huff, pushing yourself out of bed. You pull on a thick pair of socks and your slippers, then grab your pass card before leaving the room. You tuck your hands in your pockets, wandering the brightly-lit halls and looking around. You try your pass on every single door as you go, unable to help your curiosity. You go to the elevator next, stepping on and waving your pass. You glance up as the elevator moves upward. You step off once it stops and look around. You wander through it, taking in the layout of the floor that you hadn’t bothered to get a look at with William. 

You peer out through the sliding glass doors, breath taken away by the expanse of the dark sky, and the blanket of stars. You reach out, taking hold of the handle and pulling the door open. The air swirls cooly, and you reach back to shut the door before you wrap your arms around yourself to ward off the chill. Another breeze pushes through, and you shiver a little, tightening your arms around yourself as you listen to the rustle of the air through the trees surrounding you. 

“Gonna freeze like that.” 

The warning catches you off-guard, and you jump, whirling around. You can just barely make out Nathan where he’s sitting. He’s wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a framed wooden porch swing, pushing himself lazily.

“Do you like scaring the shit out of people?” You ask, wandering closer. 

“It’s working its way into my interests.” 

“I bet.” You glance toward the half-filled glass sitting in front of him, on the edge of the unused fire pit. 

“Here,” Nathan stands, sliding the blanket off of his shoulders. You inch closer as he walks around the fire pit, rummaging around. You sit on the porch seat, drawing the blanket up around yourself and cuddling into it. It’s nice and warm from Nathan’s body heat, and smells vaguely like his cologne. It was a surprising scent—a blend of clove, dry wood, pepper and rosemary, from what you could catch. You push yourself on the swing lightly, watching Nathan start a fire up in the pit before he rounds to you again. 

“Here,” He plucks the glass off of the edge of the firepit, holding it out to you before sitting beside you on the swing. You frown, peering into the clear liquid. 

“What’s in it?” 

“Tequila.” 

“With?” 

“...Tequila. It’ll warm you up. And speaking of which,” Nathan adds, reaching out and tugging at the edge of the blanket. You grudgingly loose your hold, surprised as Nathan scooches closer and tucks himself under the blanket beside you. Your body is suddenly flooded with additional warmth, his side and thigh pressing against yours. You’re briefly muddled by the feeling, still staring down into the tequila and listening to the crackling of the fire.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks.

His question spurs you into action. You raise the glass to your lips, swigging and wincing at the taste. Christ, that burns. He’s right, though. Once the burn has gone, it warms you. You pass the glass back to him, leaning back and pushing the bench a bit with your foot, swaying the two of you. 

“Nope,” You confirm. “I thought working for a bit would make me sleepy, but it didn’t do a damn thing.” You tip your head back, taking in a deep breath and reveling in the expanse of stars above. “Did you and the boys have fun?” 

“Eh.

“That good?” You chuckle.

“You know how they are. Dan is game for a good time. William’s treating the next few days as an informal performance review.” 

You nod, smiling. “That sounds like them.” 

“What about you?” Nathan asks. “What’s your approach?”

“No approach. Just going with the flow, like Dan.” 

“Bullshit.”

“What!” You scoff indignantly, drawing back from him just a little. You’re still close enough to keep the blanket intact, but far enough away to get a better look at his face. “It is not bullshit!”

“If you were going with the flow, you would’ve joined us for dinner.” 

“I was tired. My flow tonight was tired.” 

“Doesn’t seem so tired now.” 

“Yeah, well,” You reach out, snagging his glass again. “My flow had time to rest up.” 

“Did it? I saw your edits on that pitch deck.”

You shoot Nathan an irritated glance, but it melts as you see him smiling warmly at you. 

“They needed to get done. Would you rather I’d put them off in favor of drinking with you guys?” 

“In the name of team building, yes. In the name of progress, no.” 

“So either way, I can’t win with you?" 

“Try not to take it too hard. Most people can’t win with me.” 

You grunt, snaking a hand up from the blanket and snagging the glass again. You take a large swig, wincing at the burn again. 

“Would you slow down?” Nathan asks. “That tequila costs twenty-two thousand a bottle.” 

“How many bottles do you have?” 

“That’s not relevant.” 

You snort, pushing the swing gently again and gazing into the fire. 

“Why are you up?” You ask after a moment. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Any particular reason?” 

“Just need some time to come down from the, uh…Festivities.” 

“You’re coming down by drinking more?” 

“Sure. Hasn’t failed me yet.” 

“Huh.” 

“Is that your usual method?” 

“No.” 

“What do you usually do?” 

“Depends on the night,” You shrug. “Sometimes I workout, sometimes I…” You trail off, swallowing thickly. Shit, never mind. 

“Sometimes you what?” Nathan plies. 

“Nothing.” 

“What?” 

“No, nothing,” You shake your head. Honestly, sometimes, you fuck to tire yourself out, but you can’t tell your boss that. “Sometimes I…Listen to podcasts,” You fill in lamely. You don’t dare meet Nathan’s eye; you can only imagine the unimpressed look that he’s shooting you.

“Are you forgetting that I have access to your search history?” He asks blandly. You huff an embarrassed laugh, shaking your head.

“Trust me, I have never forgotten that.” 

“Okay. Good.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Because I know all of the kinky shit you look up to get yourself to sleep.” 

“I know, I know,” You groan. “New topic, please.” 

“...You missed a camera.” 

“What?” 

“You missed a camera—and I’m considering charging you for the three that you fucked up.” 

You smile a little, peering down into the glass. “You gonna tell me where the other one is?” 

“Nope.” 

“Creep.” 

Nathan chuckles beside you. “It’s safeguarding, not creeping. There’s a difference.” 

“You just don’t like letting go of control. I’m surprised you have a C-Suite at all.” 

“You guys take the grunt work off of my plate.” 

“Are you saying that you need us?” 

“I don’t need anyone,” He argues. You raise a brow, watching the wheels turn in his head as he adds: “I…Choose…To let you help.” 

“Pretty hefty price tag with that choice.” 

“The good shit costs money,” Nathan insists, leaning forward and taking up the bottle of tequila from its place beside the swing. 

“Are you talking about the C-Suite or the tequila?” You ask, holding the glass out as he unscrews the top, topping it off. 

“Both.” 

You smile, taking another sip and waiting for Nathan to put the bottle down before you pass him the glass. 

“So what do you even…Do out here?” You ask, looking out into the treeline. 

“I know that’s not a serious question.” 

“I don’t mean for work, I mean for fun,” You clarify. 

“...I go on hikes.” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“I’m not joking.” 

You tip your head to the side a bit, brows raising. Nathan meets your expression with complete seriousness. You roll your eyes a little bit. 

“Alright.” 

“I have one scheduled for tomorrow morning.” 

“For who?” 

“All of us.” 

“Oh, come on,” You whine, tipping your head back. “Why?”

“Team building.” 

“We are built enough, okay? We are built—full set,” You insist over Nathan’s laughter. You slide down in your seat a little bit, resting your head against the back of the seat and eyeing the sky.  “What else?” 

“What else do I do for fun?” 

“Mhm.” 

--  

“...Is that the fucking sun?” You mumble. The fire died out nearly an hour ago, and pinpricks of light are beginning to rouse. Nathan shifts in his place, arm tightening around your shoulders. 

“Probably.” 

“Fuck,” You groan, turning your head into his shoulder. The two of you have managed to spend the entire night on the swing, just talking. You’ve never felt closer to the guy—mentally or physically. Nathan yawns widely, and you feel him shift, pressing his face into your hair. 

“You ready for that hike?” He murmurs. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 

“I am, actually. Fuck the hike, we’re rescheduling.” 

“Or we could just, like…Not do it at all.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna hike, sweetheart. I’m just putting a day-long moratorium on it. C’mon—Come on,” He urges even as you whine in protest. He pushes the blanket away, grasping your hand. You let him steady you, the swing rocking beneath you slightly as you stand, stretching your fatigued body. You raise your free hand, scrubbing it across your eyes as he tows you toward the sliding door. 

“You want something to before we go to bed?” He asks. 

The question stills you, your stomach flipping as you seem to snap awake. 

“We?” You repeat. 

“Separately,” Nathan rolls his eyes, and you pout as he turns away from you, dropping your hand. You find yourself pouting, defensively tucking your arms around your middle and following him. 

“Water would be nice. And considering how much we had, probably a good idea, but, uh—” You clear your throat. “I should skedaddle before the guys are up and think that we did…Something.” 

“Something?” Nathan repeats. 

“C’mon, you know what I mean.” 

“I don’t follow.” 

“Yes you do. You’re being pointedly obtuse.” 

Nathan’s face splits into a grin. “I just wanted to hear you say that you don’t want them to think that we fucked.” 

Your face heats at the assertion. You shake your head, waving him off. 

“I am going now," You insist. "Goodnight—Or, morning, whatever the fuck.” 

“Night...Hey.” 

“What?” You ask, turning to face him. Nathan doesn’t answer for a moment, gaze sweeping over you. You can’t imagine how you look—pajamas rumpled from the hours spent on the swing, hair a mess, eyes red-rimmed and dry from the lack of sleep. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

He practically murmurs. If you were just another foot or two away, you may not have heard it. It makes your heart stutter in your chest. You take a couple of steps back. 

“You, too,” You mumble. You turn away, determined to leave with all of the grace that you can muster. On your way out, you raise a finger, warning, “Don’t watch me sleep!” 

“You gonna try to find that last camera?” 

You don’t answer that, just flip him off as you bite back a giddy smile. Maybe you won't look for it. Maybe he’ll watch. Maybe the next few days aren’t going to be so bad.