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momokohuu · 18 days

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Rottmnt ☆ Star Child AU Part 2

Trigger warning: implied slight gore, trypophobia, and mild swearing.

‘Kay so, Leo finds himself in very overwhelming mood after having starry highlights on his irises. When he heard a footsteps coming from outside his room, he was so hella worried that they notices that he might be awake and escaped, but he definitely heard a sound of his brothers arrived in the lair, so Leo then returned to his bed and pretends that he was sleeping, so his brothers wouldn’t notice that he was awake (Except for Donnie, he knows what was going on with Leo.).

Mikey, Raph, Donnie, April, Splinter, and Casey Jr. have arrived home, and Mikey and Donnie went upstairs in Leo’s room to bring the presents for him, except for Donnie, of course, has only a first aid kit along with him just in case. Mikey, of course, was very sad and scared if Leo was gonna die like this. Mikey then puts the two bags of presents right next to the doorway. Inside of the two bags, there were 10 sheets of unicorn stickers, a plushie, a sky-blue-colored tumbler cup, a unicorn hoodie, a mug with Leo’s name on it, and a picture frame. After that, Mikey then leave Donnie alone with Leo for a bit. Donnie then wakes Leo up by poking his forehead. Leo then wakes up like nothing has happened to him. Donnie then said “Are you alright, ‘Nardo?” “What the hell? I’m fine, Don-Tron. Nothing has ever happened to me, of course”, Leo responded. Donnie feels so skeptical about Leo’s answer to him, but plays it along, so he doesn’t get so upset so quickly. “Whatever you say. But me, Mikey, Raph and everyone in the lair was worry about you.” Donnie responded back. Leo then rolls his eyes, pretending that he’s alright. Donnie then checks on Leo’s right leg, and turns out he has 15 holes, with blood on them. Looks like Leo’s been affected by either the rocks or the shooting star, but theres one thing that exists called “Pockmarks”, they’re typically marks that caused by chickenpox, acne, scars, or any types of infection. Pockmarks cannot be dissappear or go away by itself, but treatment can usually help. Of course it can’t be the Krang One, because he was blown away when the fucking door closes, and plus, he didn’t fucking die, he was actually been defeated by Leo when was locked in the prison dimension. This infection was very unusual to Leo, because he never have this kind of marks on his leg before. Donnie then checks it again and sees bruises and a slightly opened-cut ankle that looks like a rock hit on it. “ I don’t think you’re okay, Leo.”, Donnie said. Leo then responds, “ What the fuck do you mean I’m not okay?! I’m alright now. Can’t you see my luxurious, beautiful face-“ “NO NARDO!! YOURE NOT OKAY!! And why are you swearing at me?! Who taught you that?!”, Donnie yells. “Don, I am okay-“ Leo says, as Donnie interrupts him. “‘Nardo, I swear if you scare me, our brothers, dad, April, and Casey like that, I’ll slapped your face!!” Donnie then starts to tears up, as he puts on a cast on Leo’s leg, but until Donnie notices a starry highlights on both of Leo’s eyes. That left him shocked, but still does not want to worry a bit too much. Leo then says, “ Donnie, I thought you hate e-“ “I-I-I’ts fine, just dont go and fucking kill yourself, okay?…”, Donnie says as he was about to cry. “Alright…”. Leo said, as Donnie then leave him in his room.

Leo then grabs his phone from his nightstand, and then starts scrolling through YouTube, until he found the video that is unusual to him. A live singing performance of Mira Starr, a 20-year-old Indian-English singer. He then clicked on the video, as he gazes at her performance. He starts to feel like he’s a fan of Mira as he kept watching a video of her singing performance.

Fun facts:

Mira likes samosas and butter chicken.

Mira’s birthday is December 1st.

Mira’s favorite color is light or hot pink.

Mira can speak 3 languages (including English), except she speaks a bit of Punjabi.

FINALLY I FINISHED THIS!! dont worry y’all, im working on part 3. :3

! Not mine !

(First Part | Next Part )

#rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt au #rise leo #rise donatello #rise leonardo #angst #oshi no ko #rottmnt au

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xsapphirescrollsx · 8 months

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Cutthroat Challenge: Just Desserts

Written: Jan 23 2020 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 1.5k

Prompt: Netflix and Chill

Sabotages: You have to work in Bucky howling like a wolf. No sentence can be longer than fifteen words.

Warnings: 18+ Fluff & Smut

The fire roared, dry wood crackled breaking apart. It sent sparks into the smoky air drifting around the shallow pit. Bucky stepped up next to it, long silver flask in one hand. In the other a log which he tossed into the amber fire licking the air. He stumbled back with the gray smoke billowing in his face. He tipped back the flask, full of Asgardian whiskey and sprinkled his mouth with it.

Steve shoved into him, drunk. Well, as drunk as Steve could be. He grabbed for the flask, sloshing a bit down the side of Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky gave up and let Steve have it. Dark eyes stared over the fire with a hiccup. You were there, smiling with the glow of liquor and the warmth of the flames.

Steve, Bucky, Sam and Clint decided on a casual night out. But the four of them, tired of crowds settled on the woods instead. You tagged along. The compound could be so quiet without them. And you really didn’t want to be left with your own thoughts. So when Bucky urged you to come, you didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation.

At first you felt out of place. You worked accounting, administration mostly, and bumped into them often enough. But really you out in the woods with heroes, seemed out of your element. The trip there quickly changed your mind. You settled in around them. Each with their big personalities brought out yours. Sort of.

And after dinner all of them sat outside trading stories. You joined, flopped down in the big comfy wooden chair and curled up. Whiskey in your hands. Your eyes shifting and rocking from Steve to Sam, occasionally to Clint. But mostly, you caught yourself staring at Bucky.

Dark hair cut short, patchy beard. His eyes would glimmer in the flames. His short bursts of laughter would leave you smirking. The whiskey spread leaving you light headed and free, somewhat. So you indulged in observing your friend.

Suddenly Clint stood, swayed too, and tilted his head back to the full moon. Bucky’s eyes danced with silly uncertainty, his cheek bones scrunched into a wince. Clint billowed a long howl into the heavy night air. Sam, catching what Clint was doing started to bark. Still Bucky sat there as Steve too stood, put his hands on his hips and howled.

The guys descended into chuckles, sporadic yelps and growls. And you chugged the last of your drink as you giggled into the empty tumbler. After a few seconds of continued howls and barking you went back into the cabin. You were passed buzzed, drunk but you made another drink. The thought of going back out there sloppy wasn’t your idea of fun.

You slightly staggered into your darkened room. The small room moved around you ever so slightly as you headed to the bed. You sat the cup down on the end table. You bounced and jiggled while you peeled down to your shirt and panties. You dug out the laptop, tossed it at the head of the bed. And soon you followed.

Belly first, your feet hanging off the edge. Your shirt riding up passed the band of your underwear. You pulled at the laptop, put it on a pillow. Flipped it open and put on Netflix. An often repeated favorite was already there: Zumbo’s Just Desserts.

Your drink forgotten in the haze of influence you watched the competition unfold. You were enthralled in the making of gateau. And the sound of boots on a wooden floor never crossed your ears.

A giant flop later your laptop slid off the pillow. You scrambled for it. And your eyes swirled from light to the dark of the room. Looking over your shoulder, there was a large mass behind you.

It didn’t move. You lifted the laptop shining light upon the figure. Dark hair stuck out the top of his jacket ballooned around him. He moaned turned his head to the light and grinned. Bucky.

Suddenly he sat back on his knees. Foolery, lightness of spirit, whatever it was he stared at you. His eyes crinkled as he yanked his jacket off.

He howled, piercingly, it rang in your ears at its loudest.

You flinched and nearly dropped your laptop. So you rolled onto your back pulling it with you.

“Bucky!” you called and then giggled.

He was silent, still eying you, still grinning playfully. He tossed the jacket, the wind was a quick reminder of your bare legs. Haphazardly you tugged at the hem of your shirt, moved the laptop lower. But Bucky grabbed the laptop while he leaned back unlacing his boots.

“Food?” he asked sluggishly. “I liked that one flick about the inn.”

Your mind muddled to figure out what movie he was talking about. He came back down, kicking off his boots one at a time with a toe.

“The one with the city girl, goes to New Zealand,” he said. Coming closer, with laptop in hand, he crossed over your shoulders. You rolled to your side as he sat it back on the pillow. “Meets a guy, he helps her rebuild this inn.”

Your heart started to race. “A rom-com?” you asked breathlessly.

You tried not to pay attention to just how close he was. But the heat from his body surrounded you. His breath stinging with whiskey filled your nose.

“Ya, it’s good.” He chuckled softly.

His hand dropped around your waist pulling you in nearer to him. It felt like an act he had thought of for months. You sank back into him, disbelieving Bucky Barnes was cuddling your body. Propped up on his elbow, he dipped his head into your hair.

“I thought it was sweet, warming. Like you,” he whispered.

You shut your eyes tight. You fought the swimming in your head. Twitching, your hand glided from the comforter to his metal arm firmly wrapped around you.

Bucky’s breath hitched and then released it near your ear. His prickly beard scratched across your jaw. His arm unfolded underneath your head as you fell back into it.

You were face to face. Pale digital light casted shadows across his face. But blurry eyed as you were there was still gentleness in his gaze.

“Did you hear?” he asked.

You simply shrugged not knowing what he was talking about.

A smirk curled in the corner of his mouth. “I said you’re sweet.” he repeated.

Somewhere in your drunken stupor you missed the motion. The slow descending dip of his head towards your face, the seriousness in his eyes. He kissed you.

Your eyes widened and then fluttered shut. He covered you. Heat and his heavy body began to spill to your legs, your hip. His metal fingers steadily worked their way up between the bed and your ribcage. The nook of his other arm cradled your head. Soon desserts were the last thing on your mind.

The knot in your stomach loosened but the muscles in your thighs tightened. Bucky’s lips slipped from your mouth trailing kisses and sucks down your neck. He was on top of you. Grinding his want into your pelvis. His knees wedged in and then spread your taut legs a part. He pressed his groin to yours.

He couldn’t get enough of your petal smooth skin. Nor could he ignore the light scent of smoke in your hair. Or the vanilla warming in his nose. You are beautiful to him. Squirming underneath, caught between softness and him. And he can tell you haven’t been touched in some time. You cling to him, your moans send tingles down his spine urging him to rub harder. He wanted to see how long you could last with just well intended touch.

He smiled into the skin of your breast. You were shaking all over. Legs trembled around his hips, clenching to close but struggling to stay open.

His jeans scraped across the skin of your thighs. He shifted a bit, rocked his hips, pressed in harder hitting your clit faster.

“Oh, my god. Bucky!” you panted.

Your hands fumbled to his shirt and balled your fingers into the collar. He wouldn’t let you pull him from nibbling your nipple.

“Feel good, baby?” he muttered against your skin.

You nodded your head feverishly and shut your eyes. Bucky barely pulled away from you he kept his hardness jutting across your clit. He brought his metal hand to your face. His other arm still cradling your head, he enveloped you close. His metal fingers sunk into your parted mouth. The act turned into your undoing.

Suckling two at a time you crumbled underneath him sending your body into jelly. His metal fingers slipped from your lips. And with a satisfied sigh, your fingers loosen and fell to your chest. Weakly your eyes opened, Bucky was watching you tuck your lips between your teeth. Slowly he met your eyes, grinning lightly as he spoke.

“You still wanna watch Netflix?” he asked.

Leisurely you shook your head no against his arm. Bucky smiled and reached over toward the laptop. He shut the lid as his lips pressed against yours.

In the dark, his cool metal arm reached between your legs fiddling with your panties.

“Wanna feel the sweet I have for you?” he mumbled into your mouth.

You nodded wordlessly.

“Well,” he said unzipping his jeans. “I’m gonna to make sure you get it.”

#Bucky Barnes #Black Reader #Black!reader #Black!femalereader

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sugurus-slxt · 3 years

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emergency request

((t.w. eating disorder))

i am trying to recover from my ed by myself since i don't fit the stereotypical person with ed and it is also expensive... i would love to get some comfort/support from haikyuu boys (kindly include tsukishima pls) <3

Haikyuu Boys Comforting Their S/O with an Eating Disorder (emergency request)

A/Note: I’m really sorry that you have to deal with that but if you ever need to talk I’m here, or just listen; my Inbox and Asks are open. I don’t think that anything should have a ‘stereotype’ especially not this, anything can happen to anybody, I anyway. These things don’t just pick and choose and honestly, I’m probably stating the obvious. I’m sorry but I just want you to know I believe in you and that you can do it. I do also apologise if this does not come out the way you wanted, this is honestly my first time writing for a situation like this so I did a little research, and I hope it was enough. I hope you like it. Love <3 ~ Sar-chan

Warning: eating disorder

Tsukishima Kei

I think the first time Tsukishima found out you had an eating disorder he was silent for about a couple seconds. It’s not because he’s angry at you, he just needs to process it, and he needs to figure out what to say. He knows sometimes he can be harsh and he knows right now you don’t need that.

He’ll make sure to wrap you in his arms and tell you, “Hey, it's ok. It’s ok. We- we can get through this. I’m gonna be here to help every step of the way. I’m sorry if I ever made any comments that make you feel a type of way. I love you ok and I’m here.”

He’d apologise because he didn’t know if he’d ever said anything to affect you. He’d be more careful with his words from then on because you mean the world to him and he truly wanted to help you get through this.

Tsukishima definitely did some research that night when you went to sleep. He wanted to be sure about what he could do to help and that he wasn’t mixing up his information.

He’d make food for both of you and eat the same things you were eating, to ensure you didn’t feel any type of way about it and you wouldn’t be eating alone. Kei isn’t a five-star chef but he’ll look up recipes and listen to the prep on his headphones while he cooks.

If you wanted to work out, he would totally take you with him to gym or practice, sometimes he’ll take you on his morning run if you’re not too tired.

Tsukishima would pay your fees without you knowing to help out. Like you’d go to pay and they’d tell you they were already covered. He doesn’t want you to argue with him about this especially because he just wants to help. He didn’t know how to bring it up to you so he kind of just opted for doing it this way.

I think when he takes a break at lunch he’ll call to eat with you over a video call. Yamaguchi helped him come up with the idea.

-----------

“Hey shortcake, I’m sorry I’m late for lunch. Practice ran a bit late. How you doin’? Hmmm” he said through the phone as he wiped the sweat off his forehead and removed his glasses. “I got a bit hungry but ummm. I was going to start but I wanted to wait for you. I’m sorry,” you apologised looking down at the food in front of you. “You … know… you could have eaten without me. I wouldn’t mind,” he gulped his water and glanced at the screen to see your saddened expression, “Hey, I’m not mad at you. I like eating with you ok. Though if you are hungry you should eat because you could get stomach pain, ok. But I am proud you got your food and you’re ready to eat.” Both of you proceeded to eat lunch but Kei spent most of his time smiling at you as you ate. Every time you’d look up he’d look down at his food never want to let you see the way he looked at you. When he came home he made sure to talk about his day over dinner and ask you what you’d like for breakfast tomorrow.

Kozume Kenma

Kenma is pretty straightforward sometimes and he doesn’t change that when approaching the situation. He’ll tell you, “Hey kitty come here, I need you to remember that is normal, ok. You are more than your eating disorder and all that matters now is that you’re recovering. I’m gonna help you, I know it’s not the same but maybe you can remind me to eat too hmm? We can eat together.”

When Kenma’s in his game room and you’re with him he’ll make sure to keep some snacks that you like around, he’ll also make sure to keep some healthier things on hand if you’re really worried about it.

He’ll be more observant of your eating habits and try to improve them. He’s always keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re all right, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

When he finds patterns in your habits he’ll find times within the day to ask if you’d like a snack or something to drink.

Every breakfast, lunch, and dinner time he has a reminder on his phone to eat.

When the time comes he’ll make home-cooked meals with you and eat together. This way he knows that he’s encouraging you and that you know he is trying too.

When he’s on stream and lunch or dinner time happens to creep up on him he’ll apologise and tell his viewer he’ll be right back because he knows that it’s important that you stick to a routine so that you don’t disrupt your progress. However, if you happen to be hungry earlier he will not hesitate to leave then either.

Kenma has no problem playing your fees but he knows this is your process so he will ask first before he does anything. If you want to take turns he’ll gladly do it with you.

Sometimes you guys will play rock, paper, scissors, or play Mario Cart to see who gets to choose what’s to eat or who gets to cook. He however doesn’t make it any problem if you prefer something else or want him to cook.

If you’re ok with him telling his viewers and you explain to them the situation he’ll let you. He wants them to be educated but he thinks it’d be nice for you to have the extra support and get some pent-up thoughts or emotions off your chest.

-----

“Guys gimme a second,” Kenma mutes his mic and turns to where you sat on the bed. “What is it KenKen?” you ask, a confused look washing across your features. “I just wanted to know if you’re hungry baby. Any snacks? Water?” he asks. You think about it for a second, “Maybe a little bit, but we can wait till dinner. It’s not far,” you wave your hands in front of you not wanting to disturb his stream. “Thank you for telling me but I’m a little hungry though. Plus if we get started now it’ll be ready for dinner time and maybe after you can game with me on the stream,” he takes off his game and takes your hand, and walks to the kitchen. “Let’s cook together today. I’m proud you did good today, keep taking it a step at a time,” he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi I very calm about the whole thing, he’ll sit you down and talk about it in detail if you want to share with him. If you can’t he’ll simply hug you, “Hey, I’m really proud you told me and that you’re working through this. I’m going to be here along the way to help but I believe in you darling. You are so strong and I know you can.”

He’s a pretty organised person so maybe he’ll help you make a meal plan for the week, snacks and all.

Keiji will talk about your day every time he comes home and asks if you’ve eaten well. Even though, he’s called you at breakfast and lunch already to check up on you.

I think Akaashi surprises you with a bento and a tumbler cup, that he’s drawn characters from your favourite manga/anime on.

Sometimes when he comes home from work he’ll surprise you with dinner from your favorite place for doing well all week.

He never forces you but he does encourage you because he does want to see you grow and improve, but he will let you take that at your own pace.

He is always researching and checking to learn new things every day. He’ll make sure he knows what you need and always offers words of appreciation and express how proud he is of you.

I think he’ll work out payment plan with you and will subtly bring up splitting the cost with you, if you’re open to it. He just wants to ease your stress and he hopes he can help.

Whenever you need to talk he’ll drop everything and be there for you. Akaashi is always going to be your number one supporter and if you want to keep it under wraps for the time he will support your decision but always make sure to keep you motivated and reassured.

-----

“Good Evening darling, let’s go on the couch,” he’ll sit and pat the seat next to him. When you sit he’ll pull you close and peck your cheek. “So was today good? Did you follow the plan? But most importantly how do you feel?” he’ll ask giving you a warm smile as he strokes your hair. When you tell him about your day, he listens to everything you have to say and if there were any hiccups in the plan he assures you it’s alright. He knows that it isn’t going to be easy, so he encourages you to make tomorrow better and that he’s proud of you for doing your best today. “I heard you paid in advance this month and well I already put mine in for next month so we’re set. So how about we relax, we can watch a show and if you have anything else to tell me you can. But when you’re ready ok darling,” he’d say before grabbing the remote.

Again I'm really sorry if I did this wrongly but remember my inbox is always open if you want to shoot me a message.

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pascalscenarios · 3 years

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HOW TO LOVE (Marcus Pike x Reader)

HOW TO LOVE

Marcus Pike x Reader

Summary: After a year being broken up with your ex, you move into a studio appartment just outside of Washington D.C. for a fresh start. You best friend gets your a job at the prestigious art museum he runs, and you have an encounter with someone you recognize.

Warning: None

Words: 3471

Author's Note: Surprise!!! AHH first chapter for How To Love! I’m excited for this one! I hope you guys in enjoy it! Let me know if you want to be on the tag list for this or the on main! Also if you asked and I didn’t put you in, I’m sorry, please remind me!

- K

Chapter 1

“Alright, this was the last one in the truck,” Your father says as he sets the container on the ground next to the others. Your father had helped you pack up and move your belongings from your hometown in Virginia to an apartment complex that was just outside of Washington D.C.

“Thanks, Dad.” You were grateful for his help.

“Do you want me to stay and help you unpack?” He was looking at the large boxes and containers piled on top of each other in the middle of your small studio apartment.

“No, that’s okay. I got it.” You smile slightly.

“You gonna be alright?” He says stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You sigh, “I think so…” you turn your head to look around your small apartment. “I’m a little nervous, but I needed to do this...you know, move away from town and start fresh.”

“I know you do. If you ever need anything, your mother and I are a call away and a 45-minute drive.” He reassures you.

“Thank you, Dad. I love you.” You walk towards him, hugging him.

Your father wraps his arms around you, planting a kiss on your head. “I love you too. Call me if you need anything, yeah” He says, pulling away from you. You nod at him.

You both walk over to your front door. He opens it, stepping outside.

“Bye, Dad! Drive safe!” You call out as he walks down the steps and onto the walkway. You stand by the second-floor railing, looking down as he walks to his truck. He turns his body, looking up at you, giving you a wave. You watch him get into his truck, he honks, signaling a goodbye as he drives out of the parking lot.

You go back into your apartment shutting the door. You lean back against it, taking everything in. It was your first time truly living alone. You had spent years living with your ex in your hometown. He treated you terribly. You were constantly on-again, off-again with him. He had cheated on you a few times. You tried your hardest to make things work with him.

One day he decided that he was done with you, breaking things off and kicking you out of your shared apartment. You being a grown adult had to move back in with your parents. You spent a year in a tough place mentally, you decided you needed to get out of town and move somewhere else, have a fresh start, a clean slate. You needed more than what your hometown gave you.

Your best friend Elliot lived in D.C. working as a museum director at a prestigious art museum. He had offered you a job at the museum and even helped set you up with an apartment. You were nervous being on your own, but you knew you needed this time to grow as an individual.

You pushed yourself off the door, walking further into the open space. You stand there staring at all the boxes and containers. Your apartment was small. Only livable for two people, but it was perfect, and it was yours.

“Alright, let’s get to it.”

You had spent several hours getting things unpacked and organizing. You had managed to build your bed frame and set up your bed near the long and large windows. You placed your clothes into the narrow closet, set up your toiletries in the bathroom, and put kitchen appliances away. You needed to stock up your cabinets and fridge with food, so you decided to head to the grocery store.

You headed to the store in your pj’s. After your dad left, you had changed into something comfortable. You wore a worn-out Star Wars t-shirt, sweatpants, and your pink bunny slippers. You didn’t care if you rolled up to the grocery store like this. No one knew you and you knew one.

As you enter the grocery store and grab a shopping cart, your phone rings. You set your bag in the child seat, pulling out your phone. You looked at the caller ID, it was Elliot. You pick up the call, placing your phone against your ear, your other hand grabbing a hold of the cart’s handle.

“Hello?” you said, as you maneuver your cart around and in through the aisle.

“Hey! How’s it going? Do you make it to your apartment okay?” Elliot greets you.

“Hi, El…” you smile, “Yeah I did. My dad helped me out. We piled all my crap in the back of his truck. He drove it down, while I drove my car with the rest of my crap in it. I’m grocery shopping right now. The apartment is great by the way! Thank you for everything. Helping me get this apartment and setting me up with a job. I appreciate it. I can’t thank you enough” you say, picking up several Cup Noodles, tossing them into the cart.

“Of course! Don’t worry about it. That piece of shit put you through so much, you deserve to start fresh and to thrive! Maybe in D.C., you’ll find yourself a new guy…”

You scrunch up your face at what he said “Ehhh I don’t know about that…'' You traveled down the aisle picking up different snacks, foods, and drinks off the shelf.

He tries to encourage you, “You’ve been single for a while now. You should try to put yourself out there, meet some people.”

“I don’t know… I just don’t think I’m ready yet. He messed me up pretty bad, Elliot. I’m scared to get back into dating, you know?” you say sadly.

“And you have every right to feel that way, but not everyone is going to be like him. You’ll find the right person for you. It doesn’t hurt to try, but wherever you’re ready, I say go for it. Who knows, maybe you’ll run into someone in the grocery store.”

“Haha very funny, '' you say sarcastically, but you could help but laugh.

“Alright, I gotta run. I just wanted to check up on you. I’ll let you get back into shopping, but just a reminder, you to start work Monday, bright and early at 7:00 AM sharp.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then, love you.”

“I love you too! Bye!”

“Bye” you pull the phone away from your face, hanging up, and placing it back in your bag. You continued to shop. The majority of your cart was filled with your comfort junk foods, a few fruits and vegetables, and canned foods.

You knew the change of living in a new area and apartment was going to be different and a bit of getting used to. You wanted to have your favorite things to bring you some sense of joy and ease...and alcohol. Yes, you need to get a bottle.

You were turning the corner into an aisle with the alcohol when your cart collided with another person's cart that was leaving the aisle.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” You gasp at the man in surprise. He was a little bit taller than you. He wore a plain t-shirt, jeans, and shoes. Short brown hair, brown eyes, and he rocked a mustache and beard. You couldn’t lie, the man was handsome.

“It’s alright! I should be apologizing too, I bumped into you as well!” he chuckled. His eyes took notice of your outfit of choice.

Suddenly you felt shy and self-conscious about our outfit. You began to feel insecure that he was somewhat checking you out. I mean you wore PJs to the store, of course, you knew some people would stare and secretly judge you.

His gaze landed at your feet. He cocked his head to the side and smiled “Nice bunny slippers.”

“T-thanks..” you stuttered.

He must have noticed you were growing uncomfortable because he tried to lighten the mood. “I really should get myself a pair, they look comfy…I could see myself rocking some bunny kicks,” he joked.

You nod your head “Well make sure to wear them at home and not at the grocery store... along with your pj’s.. make sure you wear those at home as well because then you’ll end up going to the grocery store looking like a fool...” you mentally cringed. You didn’t mean to say your thoughts out loud. You were making this interaction more awkward than it needs to be. You just wanted to get your bottle of wine and leave.

You grab a hold of your cart, moving it into the space beside him to get into the aisle.

“I don’t think you look like a fool, it's a look. Matter of fact, I would kill to be in some Pj’s and bunny slippers all day. I live in work suits for my job. I hate it.”

“I say start a petition for pajama day at your work.”

He laughs. “I might just do that… I’m Mar-”

“Well, hopefully, that goes well for you. Good luck.” You gave him a small and quickly made your way down the aisle. Your heart was beating against your chest. You had to get out there. You picked up a bottle of red wine off the shelf and put it in the cart. You looked back to see the man, but he was gone.

…

You spent the rest of your weekend setting up and organizing the rest of your apartment. You had a few things left to do like setting up your tv, but other than that your apartment was done.

It was 5:00 AM, Monday morning, you woke up super early to get ready for work. You didn't want to be late. You took a shower, did your hair, and got dressed. You looked out yourself in the bathroom mirror after you finished getting ready. You were dressed professionally. You felt a little silly, but you were going to be working at a fancy art museum. You spent the past year living in pj’s, shirt and shorts. It’s been a while since you had to dress up.

Leaving your bathroom, you walk over to your kitchen grabbing your reusable tumbler cup filled with ice coffee. You head over the door, slipping on your flats, grabbing your keeps and bag off the hook, and heading out to your car.

By the time you made it into the city, it was almost 7. The traffic wasn’t too bad. You managed to find street parking, putting in a bunch of coins into the meter.

Walking up to the building you were in awe. It was a wide building with tall and long glass windows in the front. You walk up to the stairs, opening the glass door. The lobby was a large space There was an information desk a few feet off to the side of the entrance, along with stairs leading upstairs. Benches and few art sculptures on display throughout the room. Bathrooms and elevators are located on the middle far back wall. Exhibits were down the halls on the left and right side of the bathroom and elevators, and upstairs.

Workers and custodians traveled around the room, preparing to open the museum in about an hour.

You hear Elliot call after you. You look up noticing Elliot coming down the stairs.

“El!” You smiled walking towards him.

“Ah! I can’t believe you’re here!” He embraced you into a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here in D.C. with me. We"ll get to hang out all the time now."

You laugh. “I'm excited! Thanks again for getting me a job. I feel kinda bad though. Like technically I skipped the whole interview phase and got the job. Isn’t that kind of abuse to your position?”

“Seriously it’s fine and I’m the Museum Director, I call the shots around here.”

“Elliot…” You say under your breath.

Elliot rolled his eyes, “Come on, you know what you mean. I’m responsible for the operation of the whole place and I know you better than anyone, I trust you.”

You still couldn’t believe Elliot was in charge of this whole museum.

“Come on, I'll give you a tour of Clemonte!”

...

Elliot gave you a tour of the Museum’s exhibits and even behind the scene things that the public doesn’t get to see. The museum had such beautiful pieces of artwork. This place was amazing. You loved it. There was so much more you wanted to see, but you only had enough time to see part of it. Maybe during your free time, you’d look around to discover the rest.

“So, what do you think?”

“Wow, this place is stunning” you stay as you both make it back to the lobby.

“So, how are you feeling?”

“I’m alright. I’m a bit nervous I’m not going to lie.” You pull away.

“Nothing to be nervous about, you’ll be fine.” He reassures you.

“So do I have to call you Mr. Regan, boss man?” you giggled.

“Pff, no one calls me that. I feel so old when people call me that. Everyone just calls me Elliot.”

“So” he claps his hands together. “You’re going to be working at the Visitors Information desk.” He says pointing to the large and round information desk near the stairs.

“El, I just got here I don’t know anything!” Your eyes widen.

“You’ll be fine, and besides you’ll be working with Ms. Laurie, she’s been here for years. She’ll teach you everything you’ll need to know. And don’t worry, we have a list and maps where everything is you can refer to.’’

“Come on” his head points in the direction of the desk.

“Hi, Ms. Laurie!” He smiles brightly at the woman. She looked about to be in her late 60’s.

“Good Morning, Elliot!” she beams.

He introduces you to Laurie. “This is my friend, the one I was telling you about. She’s going to be working with you.”

“Ah yes! Hello dear! It’s lovely to meet you! I’m so glad you’re working with me!” She holds out your hand to take.

You take her hand. “It’s nice to meet you too! I’m excited.”

“Alright well, She’s yours now, Ms. Laurie, let her have it. This is for you,” Elliot hands you your ID badge.

“Where the hell did you get this photo?” You say scrunching your face at this old and outdated photo of you.

“I pulled it off your mom facebook- Also, The FBI are coming it today-”

“My mom’s Facebook- Wait, the FBI? Why what happened?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“The FBI has a specific bureau that deals with international art theft, the Art crime team or they call himself the Art Squad. Sometimes they come in here to do research, sting operations, stuff like that, so don’t worry if you see a bunch of them waltz in here. They come around a lot.”

“Oh..o-okay.”

“Alright, I gotta go, I have a ton of meetings today, but have a good day, love you, if you need anything let me know!” He shouted quickly as he speeds walked off.

“We’re going to be opening in about half an hour, I better get started with teaching you the basics” Laurie announced. “Come dear, you can put your things over here.” She pushes open the short desk door that came up to about your hips, letting your step into the desk area.

Laurie gave you a rundown on the layout of the museum and most frequently asked areas such as where the most popular art exhibits, bathrooms, and the gift shop.

“You got everything?” Laurie asked you.

“I think so. Just a lot of stuff to memorize.” “I know hun, but once you get the hang of it, it’s going to be a breeze! You’ll know it like the back of your hand!” She chuckles. “You’ll get it in no time, if you need any help, I’m here, or you can use the maps and lists we have sprawled all around here.” She motions to the piles of paper around the desk.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Laurie.” You smiled.

…

Once the museum is open, you have a bunch of people come to the visitor's information center asking you questions. Some you were able to answer, others you had to ask Laurie or use the resources you had.

It was noon. Nothing happened, a few people came to stop by, many of the families with young children were leaving, probably headed to see multiple other museums. You noticed a group of men and women walk in. They were all wearing suits. You assumed that it was the FBI agents. They all stood in the middle of the lobby, one man stood in front of the group, giving them instructions.

The group disbanded, pairs of agents headed towards different areas and wings of the museum. You went back to filling out an information form. An Elementary school had called wanting to have a field trip. You filled out the information on the form for the school, and It had to be sent up to Elliot later to get approval.

“Do you happen to know where I can get some bunny slippers?”

“Excuse m-” You quickly lift your head from the form. Standing in front of you was the guy from the grocery store, learning to gain the counter.

He smiles at you. “I see you aren’t wearing pj’s today and no bunny slippers, damn” he joked.

You chuckled slightly. “W-well I’m working. I have to dress professionally. Guess your petition for pj’s fell through, huh?”

“Yeah, no one was down for it, but I still want some bunny slippers. Where’d you get yours?”

“um...Amazon..”

“Alright, I’ll make a mental note...I saw you when I came in. I didn’t know you worked here. How come I’ve never seen you before?” He asked.

“I-I’m new, I just started today actually…” you fiddled with the pencil in your hand. You were growing nervous.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other then…”

You swallowed hard. What was he getting at? “Oh, are we now-” You looked down at his ID badge that was clipped to his outer suit pocket that had the FBI in bold letters.

“Special Agent Pike” you read his name badge.

“Marcus” he held out his hand

You don’t take it. You were nervous. You had no idea what the Marcus guy wanted with you, and you weren’t looking for anything right now. Marcus Pike may seem all cute and harmless, but the next thing you know, he’ll be breaking your heart into two. He was probably trying to play nice to get in your pants.

After everything that happened with your boyfriend, you guarded yourself, bordering your heart with thick walls. You weren’t gonna let just anyone in. You had to protect your heart from things that hurt you in the past. You didn’t want to go through that pain again so it was better to keep walls up. You didn’t want to let anyone new into your life.

He moves his hand to scratch behind his head.

“So you gonna tell me your name?”

“No”

“No?”

“Why should I tell you my name?”

“I don’t know, because that’s what you do when you meet someone you new and you know what to call them by?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Well, you’re an FBI agent. If you wanna know, use your investigation skills and figure it out.” With that picked up paper, turning around in your hair, and walking over to the fax machine.

Marcus stood there confused. You were being nice, but then switched on a dime? Was it sometimes he said? He didn’t know what happened, but if you weren’t going to tell him, he just had to figure it out.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him walk off to the elevators. You sign in relief.

“I see you were talking to Marcus Pike.” Laurie chimed in coming out from your guy's office. “He’s a really nice guy.”

“Is he really or is that just a front to get into people's pants?” You asked, continuing to stare at him.

Laurie gasped in surprise, “Marcus Pike? No! He's such a sweetheart and very well mannered, ask anyone here, they'll tell you that.”

You sigh, now you felt kinda bad, you switched and judged him too quickly. You had trust issues that you needed to work on. You sign rubbing your face. You might have screwed up.

“I know he may be a little cocky and comes off a bit strong, but he’s a great guy once you get to know him.”

He gets in the elevator turning around. You two lock eyes, but you quickly look away back down to the fax machine.

You look back up noticing the elevator doors have closed.

“We’ll see about you, Agent Pike…”

Main Tag: @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso

#the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pike #Pedro Pascal #pedro #pascal

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barzzal · 4 years

Note

hi! would you be willing to do a part 3 to the angsty dad! mat fic? i need a happy ending 🥺

read part one and part two here. also, i listened to gone gone gone by honne while writing 💞

theo’s laughter was all that you can hear as soon as you got out of your mom’s guest room.

it was over a week since you left mat. pretty much the same amount of time you have been dodging his calls. he tried coming over your workplace a couple of times but you managed to make your assistant turn him away. you were quite amazed that he’d even put an effort but you still needed time to think things through and so, you were thankful that your mom was kind enough to tell him you and theo weren’t in her house the first time he came over.

“good morning, mommy!” theo greets you enthusiastically with his mouth still full from taking a bite off his waffles. he effortlessly earns a smile from you as you bent down to kiss the top of his head.

“no talking while you’re chewing your food, young man.” you tell him, your little boy willingly submits to what was asked of him. you kiss your mom on the cheeks who was already sipping her morning coffee across from your son on the breakfast table.

“good morning, sweetheart.” she says, greeting you with a smile.

“guess who has called me thrice so early in the morning?” your mother suggestively looks at you whilst she reads her morning paper.

you didn’t want to assume that it was who you were thinking of so you just shortly give her a shrug before grabbing the pot to transfer coffee into your work tumbler.

“if running away worked with your dad, i wouldn’t have ended up marrying him, y/n.” your mom subtly reminds you, carefully choosing the right words so the little one wouldn’t pick up on what the two of you were talking about.

theo has been asking a lot about mat since the first morning you’ve spent at your mom’s. he wasn’t really used to not seeing his dad everytime he wakes up or goes to sleep. and you know, that as a child yearning for his father, theo’s bound to realize what happened between the two of you any time soon.

“ma, dad’s different. he’s a good father.” you remind her. knowing your mom, however, you should have known that she’ll just be throwing the same rock at you.

“and so is yours. that man just needs a little nudge.” she says, giving theo a glass of water when he was done savoring his first meal for the day.

“theo, baby, could you get your school bag now? we’ll be going in a bit.” you politely ask him. your son eagerly nods as he zooms off towards the guest room where the two of you have been staying for the time being.

when theo was far enough from hearing the two most important women in his life (exactly how your son worded it last night), you sit across from your mom and took the shot of listening on what she has to say.

“you’re supposed to be partners, darling. i really don’t get why you choose to team up against each other when everyone knows you’re far better off together.”

“mom, it doesn’t work like that.” you tell her.

your mother was quick to raise a brow at what you’d just said, “tell me how it works then.”

you scratch your temple at the growing uneasiness beginning to creep up your spine under your mom’s heavy gaze.

“he’s... he’s no longer the man i married. he wasn’t like this. and i–” your mom immediately cuts you off with a scoff, “and you think you’re still the woman he married? sweetie, the reason why there’s an awful lot of failed marriages out there is because they fail to remember one salient thing about keeping one.”

you were quiet for a while. admittedly wanting to hear the rest of what your mom was going to say.

“and what is it?”

“it’s not gonna be easy.” she says, eyes darting on yours.

“it’s gonna be a mess. but you and mat? i know you’ll be able to make it work. anyway, if you really think you’re gonna end up on that road, then by all means, do it. if you can picture yourself raising theo without him, i’ll be with you every step of the way.” she stands when the doorbell rings, starting to make her way towards where your son was currently at.

“could you get that for me, sweetheart?” she says motioning towards the front door, already receding into the hallway.

you stand and head towards the door. you didn’t bother to look through the peep hole for you thought your mom was just getting her parcel.

but as soon as you opened the door, what you saw was an anxious mat, running his hands through his hair, the other fidgeting on his waist, and his back turned against you, desperately wishing to see his wife and his son.

you were stunned to see him. even though he was wearing decent clothes, you could already tell just by how deranged he looked, with heavy circles present underneath his eyes, and the fact that he looks tired, you realize that this whole thing might be taking a toll on him worse than you could even imagine.

“y/n.” a quiet whisper escapes his lips. obviously surprised you were the one to greet him by the door when he was actually hoping to talk to your mom.

“what are you doing here?” you ask him, voice dead and cold.

“y/n, please.” he pleads, contesting with himself because he didn’t want to push you further over the edge. he knew that you didn’t want to see him, and even if it kills him, knowing that his son was inside that house kills him a million times more.

“please talk to me.” you avert his gaze and shake your head no but just as you were about to close the door, your son walks out the room and sees mat at the end of the hallway.

as he meets his father’s eyes, a gleeful look was all that’s painted on his little face, “daddy!!!” he squeals, running past you and straight into mathew’s arms.

mat was already over the moon at the sight of his young man. your grip on the knob tightens as you try to keep yourself together upon the sight unravelling before you.

“daddy, where were you?” theo begins to cry, his arms almost choking mat for clinging onto him a little too tight.

mat looks at you for a moment, silently asking for your approval. when you only break off from his gaze, he takes it as a yes.

“i... i’m sorry but daddy had to sort out some things, buddy.” he says once theo’s small and tiny arms lets go of his hold.

“hey, don’t cry.” mathew hushes, wiping theo’s cheeks with the back of his hand. evidently shattered for having to see his son this way.

“are you going to leave again?” theo sniffs and innocently asks, unconciously hitting a sensitive nerve between you and mat.

mat looks at you for a moment for he didn’t know if he still has to leave nor was he still welcome to come back. he didn’t want to step in so abruptly because he knows it’ll just be all too overwhelming for you. and he couldn’t let himself cause you much pain than he already has. but he also couldn’t let theo hang by a thread just because the two of you couldn’t work things out together.

“no.” he finally says. “not anymore.”

he wishes that you caught on what he really meant. he was going to make up for all the shit you had to put up with him. you have given him a glimpse of what his life would be like without you in it. he just couldn’t stand a day without you and theo, and he knew that if he’d continue being short of the man you married, it wouldn’t take long before you finally realize that you and theo are better off without him in the picture.

you take your son’s hands away from him, reminding him that he still had a lot to go through.

“sweetie, come on, we’ll be late for school.” you say in a tone that even sounded differently in theo’s ears.

“can daddy come with us?” he asks you, shyly tugging onto your skirt.

you only give him a forced smile, ruffling his hair as you hold his hand firmly, “no, baby, he still has some things to work out.”

theo’s face drops at what you said, but even then he was quick to plaster a smile and look back at his father. “daddy, will you come to my play on saturday?” he asks, arms already clinging onto mat’s neck as fast as he broke off from your hold.

“you’re in a play?” mat’s eyes widen at the thought of seeing theo on a stage, making you roll your eyes, something that’s definitely reminded you of why you were in this situation in the first place.

theo wildly nods, making mat smile from one ear to the other. “i’ll be there.”

once theo lets go of mat’s arms, you take him by the hand and begin treading your way towards your car, leaving mat alone as he watch his life walk away from him for the second time.

𖥸

you were already running late for theo’s play and you still haven’t got a hold of mathew. it was bad enough that you actually hoped he’d try to at least make an effort but now you’ll have to put up with another disappointment when you tell your son his own father couldn’t be bothered to come for his play.

did you honestly think he’d give a damn?

you have never walked this fast all your life. the only thing that was going on in your mind was the image of your son, alone and scared as he peek through the curtains, only to find neither of his parents present for his event. you can’t possibly do that to a three-year-old.

but frankly, mathew can.

“mrs. barzal!” theo’s teacher came running towards you, wearing her warm smile as usual.

“hi. i’m sorry i’m a bit late, where is theo?” you ask her, still panting and catching for breath.

“oh, don’t worry! theo’s already at the backstage with your husband.” she says, motioning towards the wide doors.

you thought you just misheard her so you ask just to make sure, “excuse me? what do you mean—”

“theo came in with his dad an hour ago, ma’am.” she says, the two of you making your way towards the backstage.

once you’ve set foot in the dressing room, you see your boys too immersed as they go over theo’s lines. mat was practicing along, mouthing every line theo utters.

“show’s in about five minutes.” theo’s teacher excuses herself and goes on to do a final check on the kid’s routine.

as you take in the scene before you, you can’t help but stumble in your steps, overwhelmed that mat finally kept his word this time.

you clutched your purse close to your chest when theo caught a glimpse of you, enough to make mat turn his head towards where you were standing.

“mommy! you’re late!” theo reprimands, making you laugh a little.

you make your way towards them, crouching to meet your son at eye level, “i’m sorry.” you coo, admittedly in awe of your son’s attire and costume. you pepper theo’s cheeks with kisses as an attempt to make up for the time you’ve spent working away from him. mat quietly smiles as he watches you and theo so close, yet still so far before his eyes.

you watched mat go over theo’s lines for the last time before theo’s teacher called the kids to huddle them up to get the show started. soon, all the parents were ushered down the stage and into your respective seats.

“hey.” mat takes your hand for a moment before following the rest of the parents exiting the backstage.

he sighs, a little uncertain and afraid of what you might tell him afterwards but he just couldn’t take another day without you or theo in his life.

he wants you back.

he wants you home.

he wants you.

“i’ll be better.” he sincerely says, fighting the lump he’s beginning to feel in his throat upon remembering the nights he had to endure without you in his arms.

“i know.” you reply, smiling genuinely as you entwine your hand with his, this time, letting him know that you’ll never let go.

#in all seriousness 🥺🥺🥺 i’m okay now #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #mat barzal fic #barzzal blurbs

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astriefer · 3 years

Text

I will elaborate more later, but I reached 100 followers on Tumbler and I just find it? So? Amazing??? I don't get why someone would follow me but I love you all a lot!! <3

Thank you @kit-12 for dealing with my incapable mind and helping me get the courage to post it. You're the best :3

Warning: bad writing and possible fluff.

"Come here," Cordelia wheedled, spreading her arms. "Come to your sister, azizam."

Their sibling, sitting on the other side of the carpet, was too busy playing with his toy to notice. He was bubbling and giggling as he shook the Persian doll vigorously.

"This is ridiculous," commented Alastair from his place on the armchair. He laid there, twisted so one leg was over the arm of the chair and the other fell to the floor. He also, for five minutes straight, kept saying how ludicrous Cordelia's attempts were.

"You will see," she retorted, redoubling her effort for the sake of proving Alastair wrong. She reached out her arms and signaled their sibling to get closer. "Come on, Baraadar-e koochektar. Let's prove our ill-tempered brother you can do it!"

Alastair rolled his eyes, cutting his gaze back to the newspaper in his hands. "He still too young to crawl. Leave him off alone."

"No," she insisted. She looked at her brother with a keen look, despite his eyes rested on the printed words on the newspaper. "He will. Have some faith, Alastair."

"I have faith just alright," he said. "But he'll do it when he's ready."

Cordelia didn't resist making a face. Their baby brother laughed at it, a toothless grin that reminded Cordelia of Alastair's.

That was one thing she and Alastair would argue about frequently: Whose smile is more like the baby's smile, what weapons would he use growing up, would he like Persian literature and art like them and Maman, what food he'd like, what music he'd prefer (Alastair stated their brother loves classical music, she's certain he prefer Blues much better).

"You talk as if I make him walk on a five feet tall rope. It's just crawling." She smiled fondly at her baby brother. "Oh, little one, I hope you won't end up like Alastair." She pretended to shudder from the thought. "Great Lord, I'd do all in my force to prevent such tragedy."

"Very amusing," Alastair said dryly.

Her brother looked up at her, chubby cheeks flushed from glee and expression clear of any fuss. Cordelia smiled to him encouragingly, coaxing him up to try and reach her. He glanced at her innocently for three steady seconds before ignoring her again in favor of the toy in his hand.

Cordelia stared blankly. Alastair mumbled under his breath, and she turned to glare at him. He pressed his lips together, clearly suppressing a grin.

"What?" she demanded.

"Maybe he just doesn't want to come to you," he suggested. She captured the smug smirk playing on his lips and narrowed her eyes at him.

"What is it you implying?" she demanded, peeved already.

Alastair didn't seem bothered by her exasperation. He cocked his eyebrows. "Nothing, sister. Nothing at all."

She crossed her arms on her chest. "You think he is not trying because he isn't interested in coming to me, especially."

"How observant of you."

He was indifferent to her irritation, which made her even more annoyed. She huffed at Alastair's irksome demeanor. "You won't do any better on this field."

"Of course I will," her brother said in a superior voice. "You clearly don't know how to capture his eye."

"And you do?"

"Yes, most obviously, " he responded.

It was Cordelia's turn to arch her eyebrows, a challenging smile on her face. "Oh, really? So why don't you, dear brother, try to make him crawl toward you?"

Alastair made his signature eye-rolling. "Because it's childish. And because he can very well do so on his own."

She clicked her tongue. "Are these excuses? Besides, you said a moment ago he's still too young."

"He is," Alastair clarified.

"But he's a Carstairs, we always come ahead of our time," she smiled at him. She swept imaginary dust away from her dress. It was too late, she knew; Alastair's challenge was accepted - and she was determined to prove him wrong. "If I didn't know better, I would say you don't think he'll come to you, seeing as you refuse to prove your saying of him not wanting to crawl only to me. You should have no problem then."

He squinted at her, grumbling, and she thought he might simply go to his room and ignore her for the rest of the day. However, he tossed his newspaper aside and looked her straight in the eye. "I know what you are trying to do."

"I have no doubt," she answered. "But it's working, isn't it?"

He didn't reply but glanced at their brother. Their sibling has been rolling over, rocking, and dragging himself on his belly in the course of the last months. She always was fascinated and full of joy to see their baby brother stumbling around; pushing himself to sit, reaching to whatever near to grab or investigate with dark curious eyes.

"Just give him a toy he likes. He is fond of that baby rattle with the dragons' decorations as much as this Persian doll."

"Ah," Cordelia said, faking the incredulous tone in her voice. Her glinting eyes and curving smile failed her, though. "You need to bribe him with toys! How poor of you, Alastair."

He rolled his eyes again. Cordelia chuckled. "Let's make a deal. If I lose, I will give you one of my books."

Alastair tilted his head quizzically, but his look was drab. "A book?"

"It's a very fine book," she protested. "Tessa Herondale bought it for me, a rare book in Farsi, so it's sentimental. Just to show how gravely I take it."

"I am not convinced," he revealed pensively.

Alastair hummed and looked over at her, and she scowled. She knew what he wanted to hear. "I will not say it."

"You already know my answer, then."

She restrained herself before she could stick her tongue out at him. She begrudgingly nodded. Then, "As you may. But if I win, you have to perform a song in front of all my friends."

His eyes widened and he made some sort of choking sound. "Pardon?"

"You heard me," she smiled mischievously. "It's only fair."

Alastair considered her, still thunderstruck. "In what world is it fair? A song in exchange for a book I don't desire? I eat my hat before this would ever happen."

"So to Maman, Papa, Risa, and myself. And our sibling, of course. Be that as it may, I agreed to add the second part to your request, so I want a song."

Alastair shook his head but seemed less strained. He scowled - not unlike she did before - but deemed it fair. "Alright."

She pushed it far enough already. Yet, she gave it a last try. "Include that little say you made me add, and we are on our way."

Alastair's expression made his answer clear. Cordelia rubbed her hands together. "Your face when you lose will be enough, I suppose. The song is just a benefit."

Alastair snorted. He lifted himself to his feet and reached to them. "We will see."

He sat cross-legged on another edge of the carpet, so both were in front of their baby brother on different corners.

Cordelia spread his arms, twisting her fingers to gesture to the baby to come. Alastair was a bit stiff as he called their brother's name, too self-conscious to do the same thing. Their sibling seemed baffled by the additional attention drawn toward him, ruthlessly rattling his doll and staring at them.

"Look how surprised he seems by getting your attention," Cordelia pondered. Their brother rocked back a forth on the muted carpet, pushing his hand into his face as if he was wondering what he should do.

"Nonsense. He always looks like that," he dismissed.

"I decided to ignore your remark. Azizam, come here," she cajoled, concentrating on her mission. "Would you not like to play some music with me?"

One thing both siblings agreed on was their brother's attachment to music. Once, left on the kitchen floor, he took a wooden spoon and decided to hit a pot with it, ostensibly creating music for his own ears. He later threw it, unintentionally, at Cordelia. Alastair could barely keep his face straight when it happened and reminisced it for weeks.

"Who's bribing who now, Cordelia?" quipped her brother, and was rewarded by a giggle from their brother. He twirled an eyebrow. "It seems like he got my sense of humor."

"A natural disaster, really," she teased. Alastair gave her an amused look. A small sound made her glance forward. The word 'music' apparently intrigued him because their sibling's eyes were fixed on her.

"Oh, Would you like that, baby brother? " She smiled victoriously, spreading her arms. "Come to me, and we could play together."

"Or, I could play the piano, unlike Cordelia," suggested Alastair. He changed position so that he knelt now, pressing his hands on the knees. He leaned forward as if sharing a secret. "And you could assist with the drums."

Cordelia pouted. "That was my idea," she complained. "And I will be a much better companion to play music with."

Alastair rolled his eyes again. "So to speak."

he opened her mouth to tell her older brother he is wasting time and is wrong about what he is trying to prove when she saw the movement in the corner of her eye. Their brother left behind his toy. He swung his legs, slipping more than once, putting one small hand after the other as he attempted to crawl.

"Alastair," she gasped, forgetting their banter. "He is doing it! He's crawling!"

She turned, elated, to share her awe with Alastair. He looked at their brother wonderingly - It was a rare, open expression on her brother's face that made her smirk wider. His lips turned upward and tinted his face with a smile. She suspected her expression is similar.

The older Carstairs siblings observed as their brother made his way toward them on the carpet. Cordelia decided no matter whom the baby will come to, she couldn't be more joyous. "Mother should see it," Alastair mumbled.

Cordelia nodded. "It would be a nice surprise when she gets back from tea with the Lightwoods."

Alastair swept his head so swiftly a few strands fell on his eyes. "Wait," he stuttered out. "Which Lightwoods?"

Cordelia flushed and turned her attention back to her little brother. She watched as he tried to move his leg unsuccessfully. "Come to your sister, Baraadar!"

"Layla," he said, his voice informing her he won't let her away without an answer. "Is Mother with Sophie and Gideon Lightwood?"

"Maybe," she conceded. She kept her eyes on their brother "Maybe not."

"Cordelia-"

"It's our brother's first time crawling, do you really want to miss it?"

"We'll talk about it later," he snapped, and Cordelia found it inequitable. She had nothing to do with whom their mother went out with, and it was certainly not her fault Sophie and Gideon Lightwood happened to be Alastair's partner's parents.

Now fully settled on their brother, they watched as he ungracefully wiggled himself toward them. They encouraged him to get up when he fell and smiled at him when he raised his head to their voices. Cordelia even clapped her hands.

The baby crawled, not fairly straight, but if she reached her hands out she could hold him now. So could Alastair, but she tried her luck. "I think it considered my win."

"Not quite yet, Layla." The baby fell on his belly. He struggles to find his balance and continued to come closer, his visage as if he wondered himself what was going on.

They watched in astonishment as he kept wiggling his legs and hands, and then passed them. They both changed confused glanced and turned over, watching as a pair of hands grabbed their sibling's small figure.

"Risa!"

Their baby brother snuggled himself contentedly in Risa's embrace, and she gave the both of them amused looks. She turned away to leave the room.

The Carstairs siblings locked eyes with one another.

"That's unjust!" She exclaimed. "Risa wasn't one of the choices."

As Risa walked away, they heard her laughter echoing from the corridor. Alastair's eyes lent on hers again. "So, what was it about Mother and the Lightwoods?"

Cordelia just grunted and shook her head.

_ _

Thank you for reading so far! I hope you liked it!!

This is still very weird to me. 100 followers??? I suppose some doesn't remember they followed me at all, but I am still quite honored 🥺

I can make the 100 followers celebration thingie🙈 although I'm not as crafty as others I don't think someone wants to know me better, I can answer asks about my opinions, headcanons, maybe a fic if it's Alastair centered, stuff like that :p Please tell me what you think and if you'd like that!!

I'll tag some people who I much regard as mutuals or friends here! I am glad I got to meet you all, no matter if we don't talk at all. If you are reading this, you are amazing 🌺

@fairchilds-and-herondales @littlx-songbxrd @upsidedown-cats @nott-the-best @rinadragomir @gummybears-4u @aceofjesper @dianasarrow @no-scones-allowed @stitchkiss @stxr-thxif @itsdaughterofthemoon @shadowhuntertrash @doitforthecarstairs @banescrown @greymistttt

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riofann · 4 years

Text

Rio Random 3

TW: Alcoholism

Part 1 Part 2

You don’t hear from him for the next month or so. He doesn’t pay you any visits, no calls or texts. Nothing radio silence on his end. You contemplated calling him but what would that do? Nothing! Nothing he could say or do would make you feel any better at the moment. Plus you couldn’t just go back to him with open arms even though you wanted to. There were many levels of betrayal here and a simple I’m sorry wouldn't fix things, it couldn’t.

You were woken up from your sleep on the couch, typical for you these days. You were too afraid to sleep in your bedroom afraid that anything could happen and you being in the back of the house away from the door and windows didn’t make you feel safe. You hear the knock again before sitting up. Slowly you walk down the steps, when you look through the peephole you see Mick getting ready to break in before you open the door.

"Hey" you say using the door for support

Rio steps into your house before speaking, irritation laced in his tone “What were you doing we were knocking for a long time"

“I was asleep, you could just break in like normal.” Mick steps in after Rio “Hi Mick”

With a head nod Mick says “Sup”

You close the door and lean your head on it. You were still sozzled. Another thing you picked up after the great revelation. You would drink yourself to sleep every night.

“You aiight?” Rio asks leaning to the side to look at you “Hmm!” You perk up. For a second you had forgotten he was there, you walk past him, Coconut your dog runs over to Mick who in turn gives her all the pets she wants as they retreat down to the bottom half of your home. You quickly rush over to where you were sleeping and grab the tumbler and drink the remaining liquor before rushing to wash it. Rio doesn't say anything but watches you.

“Want something to drink?” You turn to face him, doing your best to not look as drunk as you felt before he can answer you, grab a glass and make the infamous Bourbon on the rocks. “HEY MICK!” “YO!” you hear him rush up the steps

“If you want food or drinks help yourself,”

“Cool cool” he retreats back downstairs to watch the game. “Come on Coconut!” You smile

It was cute seeing him with Coconut, a Samoyed, who looked like a teddy bear had come to life with Mick of all people.

“I was gonna say tequila”

Tequila is your favorite liquor

You roll your eyes “Please you know you love bourbon it's your girlfriend's favorite drink”

Without speaking he stares at you making you nervous, thinking that he knew you were drunk. You quickly make conversation "to what do i owe this visit?”

“Came to check on you see how you doing, you haven't texted or called”

“You haven't done the same either” you counter

“I am a busy man”

“I have a target on my back”

He looks at you before speaking “We both do”

“Fair enough, we can both do better let's just leave it at that”

He nods in agreement “Just came to check on you”

You look at the clock on the oven “At 1:00AM”

“No better time than the present” he says flashing his infamous smile

You nod, “I guess” your anxiety was starting to get the best of you again. You were able to pretend so long as he wasn’t around but now it was becoming more difficult by the second.

“You aiight?” he says as he notices you taking lots of deep breaths “Yea i just need to lay down”

You walk towards the bedroom without even looking back at him, you assume that he planned to spend the night. You hear him walking behind you and you become more panicked. You rush into the bathroom before he reaches the bedroom.

“Thought you said you were sleeping” he comments noticing your bed was made up

“Yea on the couch!” you answer from the bathroom

He takes a seat on his side and starts to undress himself getting comfortable in nothing but boxer briefs

You sit on the toilet and do your best to calm down. You reach for the flask in the vanity drawer and take a few gulps before you put it back in its hiding spot, a few more breathing techniques and you feel calm enough to walk out. He watches you as you walkover to your side of the king sized bed. He always hated it. It was entirely too big for two people let alone one person.

You avoid all eye contact. If you thought you looked drunk he would definitely pick up on that.

When you lay your head on the pillow the room feels like it's spinning before the feeling slowly subsides and you feel yourself falling asleep.

“Y/N”

“Hmm?” you hum

“I came to talk to you” normally you would be alert and waiting for him to talk but this time you’re avoiding any type of conversation

You sigh “Your timing is impeccable!”

He chuckles he missed you. He missed having to deal with a grumpy you, who didn’t get enough sleep, missed how you were so picky over ice cream, missed how you smelled, how your skin felt under his finger tips, missed your sarcastic mouth that always irritated him

You sit up and move closer to him grabbing a pillow to put on your knees so you could lay your head on it. “Okay i'm listening”

He says nothing but looks at you,

“My name is Christopher”

For a second you want to thwack him with the pillow. Is this why he came over to tell you his name?!

When you look up at him there’s a look of vulnerability behind his eyes. You get the sense that he was being truthful

“Okay what do you want me to call you then? Christopher or Rio?” He smiles lazily, he was expecting you to roll your eyes and fuss at him “whatever you want mama” he reaches over and rubs your leg

“I like Rio, maybe i’ll call you Christopher when i'm mad at you”

He chuckles “fair enough,” he clears his throat. “My name is Christopher, people know me as Rio. I am a divorcee to a lady named Rhea and we have a son together named Marcus.”

You smile at him “nice to meet you Christopher”

“I’m single by the way so you know”

“Why are you doing all of this?”

“I don’t know how things like this go, I’ve never “dated” girls it was always we vibe together cool we together. I’m trying something different, you don't like it?” You shrug “No its just odd......”

“I meant it when i said i cared about you, Beth and I are a thing of the past only business”

“What did you do break up with her yesterday?”

“More like a month ago”

“How did she take it?”

“How most women do? Cry got mad at me typical shit”

You nodded “okayyy”

“Im serious Y/N I want to be with you,”

You didn’t respond but laid down next to him, when you woke up in the morning he was gone. You sigh in relief. You didn’t want to discuss him wanting to be with you in greater detail. As far as you were concerned words meant nothing when it came to him. He always spoke with his actions. Nothing changed besides him revealing his name to you. He was back to being the mysterious person in your life. I guess since he told you the truth there was no need to pretend anymore. No late night calls asking how you were no more frequent pop ups.

The next time he does show up, he’s nothing but irritated. Standing outside your door for almost 10 minutes knocking, just to break in. When he finally locates you on the couch there's a bottle of tequila beside you, cap half screwed on even Coconut’s excited yipping doesn’t wake you up.

“Do me a favor find every liquor bottle you can in here and get rid of it”

Mick nods in agreement before he returns to petting Coconut

You wake up the next morning in bed wondering how you got there the last thing you remember watching was Scandal before blacking out. You hear commotion near your kitchen area, you get scared but hear Rio’s deep voice and relax a bit. You get up and ready to go to work before walking out of the room.

Without thinking about him you look in the cabinet that housed all the liquor

“It’s not there”

He scared you, you had forgotten he was there, you take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him

“Where is it?”

“Don’t worry about it”

“Rio”

“Why you drinkin’?”

“Why not? As far as we are concerned there’s still drugs in my house right?”

He ran his hand down his chin “I told you I’m taking care of it”

“What does that even mean? You don’t text or call nothing just show up out of nowhere whenever you feel like it. What is the definition of taking care of it, if drugs are still being funneled into my house. You don’t want me drink? When I can smell her perfume around the house after I come home from work? You don’t want me to drink? When I can see a trail of dirt going down or up the steps? At any given moment I could be ambushed by the feds or your enemies.... But you’re taking care of it?! Right? You tell me if you were me and someone kept telling you I’m taking care of it would you believe them?” He remained silent for what felt like an eternity “It's complicated”

“Then uncomplicate it!”

“So what you gon drink yourself to death?”

“YES!.....I mean NO!..... But you can’t possibly think that i am going to deal with all of this by myself without you there and a sober mind”

“Need to grow tough skin, if you wanna stick around”

“I didn’t ask for this! All I wanted was a boyfriend not someone who is supposedly plotting my demise and telling me don’t worry about it”

Offended he speaks before he can stop himself “And I ain’t ask to be with no drunk either”

You paused for a while and walked away. Rushing into your bathroom your hands shaking from being extremely pissed and needing that drink in the morning to take the edge off. You quickly locate the flasks in your room thankful he had yet to find those.Once the liquid poison settled in your stomach. You quickly gather the remaining flasks and stuff them in your purse before rushing out the door. You could feel his eyes on you as you left the house.

When you return home your heart sinks to see his G Wagon sitting in the driveway. Carefully you put the flasks in your purse. You were hoping he didn't make someone follow you because your flasks were now full to the brim with alcohol.

You open the door and Coconut runs towards you barking and hopping on you. “Hi girl, how are you? Were you good today?” You bend down and pet her, tears coming to your eyes as you realize just how much you had been neglecting her lately, “I promise i’ll make it up to you” you whisper as you continue to pet her. When you stand up you see Rio standing in your line of vision. You walk up the steps to see Mick sitting on the couch watching sports. You wave at him and take the corner towards your room. You had a short window to hide the flasks before Rio would come in.

When you step into the kitchen you don’t see Mick on the couch instead its Rio sitting by the kitchen counter. You move slowly as you feel the alcohol racing through your veins. You pour water in your tumbler and pull out the bowl of fruit salad that you had made early in the week.

“Not gon eat?”

It hadn’t even occurred to you that Rio actually cooked until you set eyes on the stove which had multiple pots with simmering food

“Not hungry”

“Late today” he comments

“Yea”

“Where were you?”

You look at him wondering if he was just baiting you or he actually had no idea where you were

“Hello” he brings your attention back to him “Where did you go after work?” “I thought you knew” hinting to him possibly trailing you

“What you talking bout?”

You knew this question was coming so you pulled out the pamphlet of AA which ironically was signed by the organizer. You place it in front of him. “We can’t have your reputation destroyed can we?” you spew out venom, almost like you were looking for another argument. Which you weren’t you just wanted him to hurt as much as you were.

He ran a hand down his face and looked up at you, however you weren't standing in the same spot you were walking back to the room. He wanted to apologize. He didn't mean what he said, well he did but he didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did.

The next day was Saturday and he knew your routine to go to brunch with either your Aunt Brenda and/or your best friend Mia. He was going to propose taking you out maybe to lighten the mood, get you out of the house so you don’t obsess over things that he was actively trying to fix. Soon after he sits down to drink his water he hears you up and an hour later the clicking of your heels on the wooden floor.

“Going to brunch” is all you say before you begin to walk down the steps

“Think you can cancel?”

You stop and turn and look at him “Why?”

He shrugs “I wanted to take you out for brunch”

“Okay you can just join us” you offer

“Nah i just wanted it to be me and you” he is now standing in front of you and moves the hair out of your face

You nod in agreement and look down to begin texting.Aunt Brenda and Mia could keep themselves busy anyway

“Ready?” He asked with a smile on his face

“Yea!” you answer you walk past him and down the steps

The car ride is silent until you arrive downtown and park a street over. You let him lead the way which brings you to one of your favorite brunch spots a chic french restaurant. He remembered you talking about it and how much you wanted to come back but you and the girls were busy exploring other places.

When you arrive you get seated, you look down at the menu before looking up at him. You kinda knew what you wanted, you had made your mind up the last time you were there what you would get next. When the waiter arrives he greets in french and you respond

“Bonjour comment-allez vous? (good morning, how are you?)” “Qu’est-ce que vous voulez boire? (what would you like to drink?)”

“De l'eau s'il vous plait (water please)” you turn to Rio. “Rio what would you like to drink?” He smirks before answering “Water”

The waiter then proceeds to tell you about the house specials for today before leaving to get your drinks

“I didn't know you spoke french”

“Yea, Krystal knew that, I guess your girlfriend forgot to mention that”

He had to admit he was lazy in his research about you, trusting Beth would tell him all about you.

The waiter quickly returned with the water. You two were not ready so you ask for more time.

He sighed before taking a sip of his water, You had reverted your attention back to the menu. He was really trying hard at this boyfriend thing. Majority of his ex girls were attached in some form or another to his business so it was easier to sit and talk about plans and things that needed to be fixed, than actually have a conversation. However Beth ‘Krystal’ was the last one, he was faced with the realization that someway or another that being part of the business never really made the relationship stronger in fact it made the bulk of it which he realized was not good for anyone involved.

“What are you gonna get?” he asked breaking the silence, he also hated how you could just be silent, he would rather you make small talk like Beth, whether it be joyous or filled with hate

“Im debating”

“Between”

“Pancakes with omelette or the french toast” you looked up at him

“Hmm” he held his infamous smile on his face the one that always made you weak to your knees

“You”

“Eggs Benedict”

You smile at him “good”

Before your food comes you two try at the small talk thing, out of nowhere you hear her voice

“Hi you two!”

You both look up at her it seemed like she came out of nowhere

You feel nauseous, the smell of her perfume now made you sick. “Hi how are you?”

“Having a little brunch?”

“Yea”

“Mind if i sit”

You look at Rio and before he can answer you say “Sure!”

He gives you a look both you and Beth can read

“Here I’ll move over” you offer as you move to the middle seat

The waiter rushes over and gets her order before any conversation takes place

“You didn't tell me our girl could speak french” “I didn’t? Must have skipped my mind”

“How are the kids Krys?” you ask

“They are good.” She says curtly before turning her attention to Rio “So uh the cookies you wanted me to bake are ready”

“I told you i didn't need them anymore”

“But i took time off to do so can’t you just come by and pick them up?”

“I’ll send Mick”

You sit back and observe her behavior. She had done herself up slightly more than usual, her cleavage was showing and she was accentuating it every chance she got. They continue to talk in code and it was becoming irritating to you because you were sitting there eating your food while they could be discussing the situation in your home without you knowing. At this point you had to assume the worst.

“Maybe you two need a bathroom break,” you interject both of their head whipped around to look at you, both looked bewildered

“Why would you say that?” Rio asked

You shrug “it seems like there's a lot you two want to talk about clearly not in front of me”

Rio smirked before answering

Quickly, Beth answered “Actually we could” “Nah we good, Krystal was just leaving.” He flashes her warning look before she quickly excuses herself.

He can tell that your mood has turned sour and chucks the date as a fail. When you return to your home he speaks before you exit the car “I didn’t know” “I know Christopher, gotta grow tough skin right?” He sighs before following you inside.

As always tell me what you think.

#rio good girls imagine #rio imagine #Brio #rio x reader #beth x rio #rio good girls #rio #nbc good girls #nbc good girls fic #good girls nbc #nbc rio good girls #manny montana fic #Manny Montana #fan fic stuff #fan fic ideas #fan fiction #writingblr

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Morning With The Boys

Summary- 2.3k Mob!Steve Rogers x You x Mob!Bucky Barnes. After your shift at the club, Bucky brings you home. He is feeling a bit possesive of you and you are more then happy to let him lay claim. As well as Steve when he arrives home. Warnings- Oral, Fingering, Name Calling, Threesome, Slaps. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

Owned Sinfully Sweet Masterlist

You were inside the club, trying to earn that last 20 dollars, the one the fucker was waving in front of you with a leering glance at you. You already gyrated your ass basically in his face, felt his fucking fingers lewdly stuff the fives and tens into the lining of your bra, acting as if he didn't know the club rules, and he was holding out now. Seeing what he could get. The music pounded, the lights were flashing. And you, well you had a mother fucking headache. Thank god your shift was almost done. Hand to hip, you smirked down at the client. “So big boy, what's it gonna take for me to get that 20... You owe me?”

He leaned back, letting his hips slide forward as an invitation. “I can think of a few things” He palmed himself, and you held back wrinkling your nose in distaste. Leaning down, you're let your hand slip along the inside of his thigh. “sorry, but I don't mess like that here. I think you should be hitting the street corner on ninth and tenth.” Fuck that last 20 you think as you go to leave, his hand grasps your arm and yanks you into his lap. You're about to turn around and clock him right in the face when a silver blade flashed from behind him, pressed to his adam's apple, and you glance up to see the club's owner pissed the fuck off. “this is a respectable establishment for exotic dancers, see the sign. No Hands Allowed On The Dancers. I've let it go seeing you pay her, but we're done now. So pay my girl what she's owed, and remove yourself, permanently from my establishment.”

The man removed his hands from your hips, and you promptly stepped away, Bucky removed the knife and snapped it closed, slipping it back inside of his jacket, and the 20 is thrust at you. Folding it and tucking it away, you head towards the back while your last customer is removed. Escaping to the back, you breathe out in relief while you undress and wash up the pounds of makeup you put on to get the desired look the clients seemed it like. Other girls stream in, each doing a similar process and counting tips amongst themselves. You wait till the rest leave and make your way out the back door to find Bucky leaning up against his car, legs stretched out before him with an ankle crossed over another, and hands in his pockets. “Ready Doll?”

“You know, you really don't have to wait for me Buck, I can take a cab home.” You grin as he opens the door and before you slip inside, you cup his face and give him a soft kiss on the lips, then ducking down to get in the car. He rolls his eyes playfully and snaps the door closed, getting in one his own side and bringing the two of them back. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I left our girl to fend for herself? Ride back in a cab.” He snorted as he reached for a pack of smokes in his suit pocket and pulled one out, you promptly reached for his silver lighter and flicked it a few times till the little flame sparked and held it out for him. “well I know you and Steve are busy.”

His eyes dipped from the road and look over his sunglasses towards you. “Never too busy for your doll.” Dragging an inhale on his smoke, he let his footrest heavy on the gas, and the early morning wind blew in from the open window on the driver's side, whipping your hair around. Your head tipped back against the headrest, relaxing till he brought you back to the house. Once inside, you ditched your purse, and Bucky promptly wrapped his arms around your hips, kissing messy on your neck, Reaching behind you grasping his shirt lightly, moaning. “Meet me in the living room Doll... I had to keep my fucking hands off you most the night. I'm done waiting.”

“Sir, you didn't even keep your hands off me then.” His hand snapped against your ass for your retort, and you grinned to yourself, going to the living room bar, making him his favorite drink in the black crystal tumblers, he wasn't far behind and lounging in place when you handed his drink to him, your own being set on the coffee table to straddle him, your hands rubbing up and down his ridiculously colored shirt. “Thank you, for earlier Sir.” Referring to when he stepped in, and his blue eyes looked back up at you. “Your ours Y/N, no one but Steve and I get to touch this.” His hand fisted in the back of your hair and pulled back you back so you slid to the floor between his knees. and your hands rubbed against his thighs, looking up at him now with delight, asking permission.

“Can I please?” You're biting your lip, and your hands are resting in against the button and fly of his slacks, the tip of your tongue gliding along your bottom lip, making it shine warm-up at him, enticing him to think about stretching those lips on his cock, wet spit and lip gloss slicking him up as cum would slip down your chin. He smirked at the image and nodded. “It is why your down there for Doll, show me how pretty you get ruined.” Your fingers are now working his pants to open, and he lifts his hips enough to let his pants slide down and release his cock, curving up towards his stomach. Spitting in your palms, and rubbing them together to spread the warmth. Grasping around his length you stroked with a firm grasp. Rewarded with a moaning after a few strokes, you let your tongue follow along with that underside, nuzzling your nose against his sac, tongue rolling over them, filling your mouth with them.

“Fuck Doll, kinky today?” He smirked down at you, you hummed before slurping them out of your mouth and wriggling in closer, raising yourself so you could reach his tip. “Well Sir, that's an understatement. Your cock ramming down my throat is a daily need.” Your tongue shipping around the red tip, sucking those glossy lips of your around the head, still teasing with your tongue while stroking him steadily. His hand fisted into your hair at the back of your head, making your whimper at the way it stung all along your scalp and brought you back to attention.

“No more teasing Doll, open that mouth wide, or I'm going to open it for you.” Breathing out your nose, and giving a slight nod, you spread your lips and flatten your tongue to inch down his length, your spit lubing him, small bobbing motions letting you ease towards the back of your throat. “That's better Doll, keep going, I've seen you work it in there before.” You hummed from the praise, wriggling excitedly as your spit started to seep out, messing up around the corner of your mouth, and coat your chin. The back of your throat when he worked his way into your throat made your gag and cough, but he pressed down the back of your skull more, tears streaming now from your eyes as they pricked with a sting at your gagging.

“Breath through your nose, that's a good girl” He didn't hold it for long, just long enough for you to calm down before he started again, and soon you were moving on your own, relaxing your throat to be able to take all of him, your eyes rolling up to watch Bucky groan and tip his head back against the couch, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed and grunted, his own hips starting to thrust his cock further down your throat. Now that he was fucking your mouth, you started to swallow around him, your hands digging into his thighs to keep from touching your own cunt. Wanting to badly though, it was getting wet, a pool of slick dampening your panties till it clung to you, trying to rock and grind for anything to rub against. “fuck!”

Bucky hissed and wrapped his other hand around the side of your head, now moving your head with quick bursts, tramming himself hard in our throat, and your squirming cause of how sudden and hard he is, your moans of pleasure matching his, and your enticing, begging him to fill you with his cum, you want it all, you want it to run down your face, ruin your shirt. And just as your about to start sucking him off again, he slams his cock to start getting streams of his cock down your throat, swallowing over and over to try to get it all. When he Yanks your head back, a line of cum and spit dangle between you, and a swipe of your tongue collects it, moaning in the nastiness way. Bucky leans forward as you take dragging breaths of air, letting his finger slide through his cum and your spit drizzling down your chin, and neck, your tears streaking as well.

“Well aren't you just the prettiest little fucking cum slut I've had.” Scooping up what's drizzled out of your mouth and Scooping it back in, for you to suck off, rolling your eyes back while you swallow what he stuffed back in down. “You weren't supposed to lose any though.” You nod as his fingers are stuffed in your mouth, pressing down your tongue to prevent you from answering. His gaze seemed to get lost over your shoulder, and he smirked again. Hearing footsteps behind you, large hands cupped the side of your face and tipped your head back to see Steve, having just returned from his activities.

“I can see Bucky left you in quite a state. Making a mess on the floor.” Bucky withdrew his fingers and Steve slipped hands under your arms, lifting you with a squeak of surprise and plopped down on the couch, perching you to straddle his knee. The pressure made your clit throb and you arched a bit at the sensation. “Such a dirty fucking whore, why we love keeping you around. No one has ever been able to satisfy us the way you to.” Steves's hands brush your hair away to expose your neck, lacing hard biting kisses to bruise you. Bucky leans forward for the drink you abandoned earlier and shoots it down his throat before tucking his cock away into his boxers, moving to a stand.

“Grind yourself, baby, make yourself cum all over my fucking pants,” Steve demands, while Bucky yanks your shirt over your head, and tosses it. An oversized hand from Steve wraps around the front of your sticky cum covered neck, pulling you back against his chest. Already, cause you can't hold yourself back any longer, your rocking your hips so your cunt rubs against his thigh, moaning out. “Can I touch myself?”

“You better not Darling, or else it's the belt.” Steve hisses, as Bucky palms your breasts through your bra, Steve flicked the clasp open and enable Bucky to draw it off, twisting fingers around your nipples and tugging the aroused sensitive peaks. Fuck you were soaked, your thighs were slick with it, Steves pants were too. He kept you guessing where he was gonna suck on you next, a firm grip on your neck just heightening your senses, and Bucky played with your breasts was leaving your eyes rolling, crying out either of their names. “Fuck Steve... Bucky, Uuhh, I want to cum.” The coil in your belly lacing you to see stars. A smack to your face sprang your eyes open, and another smack was sure to make you look at him. “Did we say you were allowed to.”

“No- No sir.” You stutter and apologize, Bucky reaching down between your grinding cunt, and running a finger through all that slick. Steve gives a warning slap against your rubbing cunt, making you gasp and open your mouth, Bucky stuffing his fingers coated in your slick in your mouth. “Want and need are two fucking different things. Like you want to cum, and we need you to fucking listen.” Steve growled against the shell of your ear. “Think you can do that for us doll?” His hand he slapped your cunt with earlier cupped your now, rolling fingers of your clit and making you whined around Buckys fingers. Fuck how were you supposed to hold out?

“I don't think she can Steve, look at her.” Your rocking against his palm now, Steves fingers sliding along your folds, and stuffing fingers into your channel. He twisted his wrist till he found what he was looking for, your eyes panicking up at Bucky, cause Steve rubbing your g-spot, cutting off air, all while Bucky teased your nipples, made you suck on his fingers. Well babygirl, your gonna be fucked. Your pleading with your eyes up at Bucky, all while now rocking yourself faster on Steves's fingers, the squelching sound, loud and telling just how far you are. Spots daze you to unfocus, and sure enough, as both men are pumping digits into your holes, you finally cave, falling back into Steves's chest while your flooding his hand and thigh, screaming now around Buckys fingers, the tight hold Steve had releasing to breath through your nose, and gasp when you feel Bucky removes his fingers.

Blackness overtakes you and you slump back into Steves's chest, while he holds you, Bucky pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his fingers off. Steve brings his own to his mouth to taste your slick off his own digits. Looking up at his friend. “Give her a bit before round 2?” Bucky leans down to brush the hair from your face, and nods.

“We probably should, she did work all night. Let's put her to bed for now and you can tell me about that deal you struck up.” Bucky stepped away while Steve lifted you up with ease, and brought you to your room.

#mob au #buckybarnes #steve rogers #fan fiction #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #Owned Sinfully Sweet #mob steve rogers #mob bucky barnes #amber writes #sweater writes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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anon-e-miss · 3 years

Note

Barbarian continues - Straxuse's Henchmen is up to no good!

The job of settling the younger sparklings down was taking Prowl some work. Before he could return, Bluestreak woke and started fussing. Smokescreen lifted him from the basket and rocked him gently. He sucked on his own fist and whimpered around it. His older brother cooed at him. Bluestreak watched his brother as he made silly faces and the bitlet quieted his whimpering and focused on his face. Prowl reappeared before the silly faces lost their magic for the newling and as soon as his originator sat on his cushion, Bluestreak was taken into his arms and offered a fuel line. Bluestreak was not long alone, “Yellow” woke and grumbled when he rooted along Jazz’s chassis and did not find the line he was after.

Though his arms were full, Prowl returned to Smokescreen’s lesson. Of course, he was used to this. With questions circling through his helm, Jazz lingered in the harem. Though Straxis private chambers had been purged, Jazz continued to use the alcove next to Prowl’s. It was a bit of a conflict for him. The urge to be close to his creations and the desire to be aloof from Staxis prize. Ori would be angry with him for thinking of Prowl like that and Jazz would not be able to fault his originator. He was not proud of this thought process and he was less proud with how consciously he was clinging to it.

As Jazz lay awake and stared at the ceiling, Jazz heard the whimper of a bitlet. There was a barely audible sigh and the weariness of it only made Prowl a little more relatable to Jazz. It was not welcome. While he argued with himself, Prowl moved. Jazz paused mid thought as Prowl crossed the floor of his alcove and out into the empty, abandoned harem. Jazz waited a bream before he rose. He did not have to look far for the Praxian. Prowl was sitting on the balcony, overlooking the garden, staring out into the darkness. How did he feel about the cavern? Could it have felt claustrophobic? Even if Prowl had spent the last twenty some vorns in some nursery, that did not mean a big cave might not be intimidating.

Jazz heard the suckling of newlings and he wondered if Prowl had come out here to avoid the newlings waking the sparklings, or if he had also been restless and unable to recharge. He made sure to stand within visual range of the mech’s doorwings before he quietly approached. The Twins were fuelling. Their energon brother was dozing between against their wetnurse’s chassis. Prowl inclined his helm to Jazz as he took a seat to his left.

“Havin’ trouble rechargin’?” Jazz asked. The mech looked tired. It was different than the weariness that otherwise hung over him.

“My processor will not cycle down,” Prowl confessed. “Same.” “You need not worry, I am not going to runaway.”

“I wouldn’t stop ya if ya wanted to,” Jazz said. Prowl doorwings dipped lower. It was not a matter of want, was it?

“Smokescreen told me ya got away for a while.” “We stayed with Tumbler,” Prowl said. He stared ahead, Jazz did not think he was seeing anything, however. “He had been my partner when I had been an enforcer.”

“That how ya ended up savin’ the mech?”

“The Senator was arrogant. There was a fuel contamination issue in the district surrounding the dockyards. It lingered on for vorns and vorns despite all the promises. There was a protest. I was on hand with dozens of other enforcers to keep the peace. Apparently there had been a traffic accident a few streets over and despite being aware of the protest, Crosscut and his bodyguard decided they would avoid the traffic jam by trying through the protest. They were mobbed and very nearly killed. I was shot by an errant blaster when I pushed the mob back. I did not realize the extend of my injuries until I had gotten them to safety and given them a piece of my processor for being so reckless and stupid. I collapsed. My spark chamber had been cracked, my spark exposed. When I came online I was shackled to the berth. I was under arrest for theft and deception.”

“Theft?”

“For robbing Praxus of the fertility of my frame. Mech guilty of my crime were either assigned to broodhouses or placed in the custody of a sponsor. Sometimes, but rarely they get bonded off. My uncle sold the right to breed me to Crosscut.”

“Ya must regret savin’em.” “Every mega-cycle since,” Prowl looked down at the newling recharging on his chassis.

“Crosscut was humiliated he had been rescued by a receptive mech. His colleagues mocked him endlessly for it. He avenged his honour on me and put me in my place.”

“He had no honour,” Jazz replied. Prowl looked at him through the corner of his optic.

“He left me be after I kindled with Smokescreen. I was locked in the nursery he had prepared and thought of nothing but escaping. It took me until Smokescreen was nine vorns old to break the encryption on the door. We ran that dark-cycle. I had no credits. My T-cog had been removed. I went to Tumbler’s habsuite. I could think of nowhere else to go.” “He sold ya out.” “He wait two vorns as the ransom rose and rose. In the meantime I paid my way on my back. He did not want me to kindle. He bought an implant and installed it in my chamber to insure there were no accidents. When the reward reached two billion shanix he gave Road Rage his address and went out for the mega-cycle.”

“Fraggin’ Pit.”

“She dragged me back to Crosscut. I was restrained. I fought when he tried to reinstate his claim. It angered him. He promised I would never see Smokescreen again. I begged him. I begged him.”

“What’d he make ya do?”

“He removed my restraints and told me to get on my servos and knees and to present myself. He kindled Camshaft in my that dark-cycle. After that dark-cycle he made careful certain to never leave my forge open for long. He stopped locking the nursery when I was heavy with Downshift. He knew I could not run. He knew it would humiliate me knowing the door was open. Just as he knew I would not leave them.”

“‘M glad he’s dead. ‘M glad she’s dead. If I find out they were given a decent burial, I’ll dig ‘em up ‘n toss ‘em to the sands.”

“Thank you.” Jazz wondered what had happened to his partner, the mech who had used him as an interfacial slave before selling him out.

Had he gotten the pay out, or had he gotten himself into deep slag for revealing he had been warming his berth with the Senator’s prize? There would have been a little justice in it if Tumbler had found himself in chains after selling Prowl back into them. Unfortunately, Jazz knew the world was anything but just. He did not need to leave justice to fate, did he? Praxus was more enemy than ally but they did still trade back and forth. If Jazz put an operative in one of the caravans, he could potential track that Tumbler down and give him the death he deserved. Jazz could do that. That would be a good show of gratitude.

“Mm!” Yellow whined when Red’s enthusiastic wriggling knocked him off his line. “Hush, Sunshine,” Prowl crooned softly and he righted the mechling and got him latched again.

“Sunshine...” Jazz hummed.

“I do not mean offence,” Prowl said, not meeting his optics. “I felt... odd addressing him as Yellow.”

“He shines like the sun,” Jazz said, stroking his creation's helm reverently as he nursed on Prowl's line.

“How did ya do it? Designate all those bitties just right?”

“I would not say I am good at picking designations,” Prowl replied. “It took me an orn to designate Bluestreak.”

“It suits ‘m. He even coos in his recharge,” Jazz said.

“He does,” Prowl said. He looked down at his newling who lay cooing in his little basket, an expression Jazz could not decipher on his faceplates. “I... gave them the designations that came to me. It is traditional to give mechlings infantile or unpleasant designations when they are small. An old superstition. But I wanted to, I hope I gave them good designations. They were the only things I could give them. Something to tie to their memories of me once they left the nursery.”

“Smokey doesn’t want to leave ya.”

“I know.”

“We don’t pass our younglings off to mentors. We don’t bond them off when their interface drive’s ‘ve just engaged ‘cause their sparks turned out receptive. Y’re their origin. If ya want a mentor for Smokey, that can be arranged, but his place is wit ya ‘til he’s ready ‘n grown.”

“I would prefer he stay with me,” Prowl said, tentative. “Unless finds someone he would want for a mentor.”

“Mechling’s devoted to ya,” Jazz said. “Can’t picture’m findin’ a mentor he wanted more than ya.”

“I need him,” Prowl replied and the shame was a bit of a surprise. “I need his help with his brothers and sister. I need his understanding. It is an unfair burden for a mechling his age.”

“Bein’ used as a broodcarrier was an unfair burden to ya,” Jazz said. “Bein’ wetnurse of my twins is another burden. ‘M askin’ a lot o’ ya, on top o’ what ya already got goin’ on.”

“I have the fuel in me to sustain them,” Prowl replied. “As long as you have need of me, I will provide.”

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. The designations came to Jazz as he lingered late into the dark-cycle with Prowl. It pleased him when Prowl approved. Jazz escorted Prowl back to his nook when the three newlings had all drunk their fill and settled into recharge. He only realized how pleased he was by Prowl’s approval until he was laying down in his own berth and he grimaced. The more time he spent with Prowl, the more he spoke with Prowl, the more Jazz liked him. When he looked at Prowl, when he spoke to Prowl, Jazz saw Straxis spectre less and less.

He felt a hideous hatred and a guilt that twisted his spark. An image of Free flashed across his processor and Jazz felt sick. Jazz tossed and turned throughout what remained of the dark-cycle. The solace he had found with Prowl felt like a betrayal. He needed the mech to go. Guilt twisted in Jazz’s spark again, the source different, and he fought to push it down. The clans were gathering. Amongst those coming to Staniz were mechs his kin had considered friends, before their clan had been outlawed, before not a one had spoke out against Straxis’ botnapping of Free Wheeler and his attacks on their clan.

It was easier to swallow the silence of those clans who had long been allies of Straxis than it was to swallow the silence of mechs he would have personally risked his own life to help in the same circumstances. Those old friends would be jockeying for places of favour around him. It made Jazz sick to think about it, but he set it aside. He would listen to them, maybe they would have glyphs that might start him on the path to forgiveness. Those who had directly aided Straxis in his crimes might have come hoping they could talk or bribe their way into Jazz's good graces but they would fail.

Straxis henchmechs had been chased to every corner of the desert. They were no longer a threat. That only left the allies. Jazz would need little encouragement to stamp them out. He knew there were good mechanisms within those clans even if his view of them all had been tainted. If Prowl struck an accord with one... Guilt made Jazz nauseous.

“Jazzy.” Only one mechanism called him that.

“Ricochet!”

#anon-e-miss writes #maccadams #barbarian au #sad!momma prowl #sad!poppa jazz #tf prowl #tf jazz #ficlet

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the-shiftshop · 4 years

Text

Hey Diary Side Story: What Happened to Peter and Tom?

I had made a huge mistake when writing this series. You see, I have included Keith’s friends, Peter and Tom, to the changes that Felix created about making them live the false rumor they had spread about him. I had no idea how I’ll put that in the story and I had no other choice but to write it as a side story which doesn’t seem like the best choice, but I’m doing it anyway. PART 1, PART 2 and PART 3 of the Hey Diary Series

Everyone’s gathering around Felix right after he lost consciousness and fell down the ground. Within just a few seconds, Keith rushed to get him out the crowd. Tom and I looked at each other, finding Keith’s reaction kind of weird. We just watched Keith pick Felix up and brought him out the cafeteria.

Tom and I were left there sitting at our table, still with mouth agape.

“Hey Thomas.” I called. “Did Keith just...”

“Yeah...” He replied.

The fact that Keith helped Felix out instead of just letting him on the ground still left us shocked, but we then just shrugged it off and continued eating.

I suddenly choke with the food I was eating as I feel a sudden warmth grow from my head to my chest, and soon down to my feet. I tried to look tough by acting as if nothing’s wrong and just let the food go down my throat on its own. I looked at Tom and noticed that he seemed like he’s deep in his thoughts as well.

When everything was okay, I continued eating my food. Drinking from my tumbler, I had a short glimpse of Tom staring at me. His eyes locked on my chest. When he noticed I was looking, he panicked and looked away. I found it weird, but at the same time, he looked cute. I laughed to myself as I put my tumbler down.

“What’s so funny?” Tom looked at me, looking a bit mad.

“Nothing.” I replied, still with a wide smile.

Tom huffed and took another bite from his food. Throughout the new few minutes, I keep seeing Tom checking me out. The tank top I was wearing under my jacket was a little loose and I can see Tom finding chances that my chest would be exposed, and yes, he would look away whenever he notice that I’m staring back at him.

“I’m going to the bathroom, bro.” He said and ran off. I got a good glimpse of his hard on in his jeans. Once more, I laughed to myself and just followed him to the bathroom, leaving our food and bags on the table.

“Peter, stop.” Tom said, pushing me by my chest and I try to kiss him by his neck, my hands on his back and holding him hard.

My right hand migrated to Tom’s hard on. It may not be my first time seeing my bro’s cock, but it made me happy to feel that he’s rock hard.

“Peter. I’m serious, what brought this on, bro!”

“I know you want me, bro. I know you can’t resist me.” I whispered in his ears and I grabbed hard through the fabric of his pants.

Thomas moaned softly. His hands now moving above my shoulders. He pushed me to the sink and now he’s the one taking the lead. He helped me remove my jacket, then proceeded to kissing me with his right hand moving up my hair.

“Fuck, bro. You’re so hot.” Thomas remarked.

“Just shut up and kiss me bro.”

Fuck. My hormones are taking over me. For some reason, I just wanted Tom so bad. My bro ever since high school. I’m pretty sure I’m straight as a pole and I’ve fucked tons of girls before, but now, damn, I have a man to try my cock out.

“We’re still going to be bro’s after this, right?” I asked.

“Of course, Pete.” He replied and came back to kissing me.

He took off my tank top and kissed me slowly from my neck to my abs, licking my nipples on the way, which sent me straight to heaven.

“Let’s take this in the stall before someone sees us.” I said, pulling Thomas into the stall in the very end of the room.

I came in first and Tom followed, locking the door. Tom then knelt down while I remained standing. He opened my jeans and pulled my raging boner out. He slapped my cock on his face a few times before finally putting it in his mouth.

The pleasure was taking me to places I’ve never been to. I placed my arms on the walls beside me before I lose my balance. Tom was really working on my cock to the point that it never compared to any girls that did the same. With his free hands he pulled my jeans down to make himself more comfortable. My right hand then held the back of his head as he bobbed up and down. I helped him by pushing his head so that I can reach his throat. He gagged a few times but I know he’s enjoying it.

“Thomas, bro. I’m gonna blow.” Right after I said that, Tom pulled out, leaving me hanging.

He then stood up and pushed me so that I’ll be sitting on toilet with the seat cover on. He sat down my lap and started kissing me again. His right hand on my cock and he jerk me off. I then removed his shirt off and released his python out too. He was already leaking a huge amount of precum. We both jerked each other off while kissing each other, making the very softest moan we can do.

“Thomas”

“Peter”

“I’m near.”

“Me too.”

“Faster.”

“Shit, bro.”

“Bro, that’s so good.”

“Oh yeah-”

“Tom, I’m gonna-”

With that, I released my load all over my torso. Some splattered on to my face too. Tom took a few drops of cum on my chest and licked it from his fingers. Meanwhile, I’m still jerking him off. While I do, he cleaned me by licking every cum on my body.

“I guess I owe you a favor.” I said grinning at him.

I pushed Tomas so that I can stand up and this time, make him the one sitting on the toilet. I knelt down, and now I’m the one sucking him off. While I do so, Tom was speaking in between his soft moans.

“You know. I would have a small confession to make.” He sounded so sincere despite making to moan in between words. “I know you and Keith are straight, and I know you thought I am too.”

I listened to him carefully, slowing down my pace.

“But I was just trying to fit in. Peter, I’m gay ever since you’ve met me in high school.”

I stopped sucking him off and looked him straight in the eyes. With those words, I was suddenly brought back to my senses. I know I am straight, and now I just realized that I’m sucking my best friend off, but for some reason I still wanted that. Although, I can’t focus to myself right now. I was filled with worry about Thomas.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked.

“Because I thought you guys would ignore me for that. You guys... I mean... We... We bullied Felix and making rumors about him being gay. I thought you guys hate men like me, but I don’t want to lose you guys. Especially you.” He explained. “Actually, I never had feelings for you. You never made me get hard. I learned how to control myself around you and I even had myself a girlfriend to help that, but for some reason, today, there’s this stirring inside me. As if everything I was doing suddenly disappeared and now I’m wanting you.”

I was left silent for a few while, thinking about what’s happening between us. Come to think of it, I was homophobic before, and I am sorry to make Tom feel like that. I then smiled and stood up to meet him.

“Well, now I guess there’s no point in pretending anymore, right?”

Peter looked at me with shock. I just kept on smiling at him until he gave me a smile back.

“You’re gonna break up with Alice, right?” I asked.

Tom looked away and the smile fades from his face. He sat properly on the toilet and I moved my face away from his.

“I don’t know, man. I mean... if you’re implying that we should starting going out together... I don’t want that.” He explained with a very down but assuring voice. “I mean, I wanna stay friends with you and only stay like that.”

“I understand.” I replied, trying to cheer him up. “But, well, you’re still breaking up with her, right?”

“Yeah. Just to let go of this. I’m coming out the closet.”

We both smiled at each other. Finally, I understand my best friend more than before. This probably created more bond between us.

“But hey. You’re not gonna leave me unfinished, right?” Tom said, pointing at his cock.

“Correct.” I then knelt back down and returned to sucking him off.

#straight to gay #Hey Diary

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1iliketrains1 · 3 years

Text

* Someone has to take care of these flowers.

A short drabble on what could come after Undertale.

———

Golden flowers stare back at you, practically glowing in the spot of sunlight shining unto them, despite the dark and cold of the cave all around. You move, unflinching in their gaze, but you can feel the ghost of a presence by you.

You sit, facing the flowering patch. The weight of your backpack feels heavier now, despite not having to hold it up anymore. You reach for it, revealing a watering can, a tumbler, and your polaroid camera inside. There’s enough film inside, though not as much as you would’ve wanted.

The “garden” is bigger now, but these guys are resilient. Even now the original blooms survived, despite your fall, despite everything. That’s not the only addition.

One, two stones beside each other, right in the middle. Each marked with names you remember so well, yet haven’t really known at all. There’s no painting or fountain or anything to celebrate them here, just two stones. Two graves.

You wonder what they might’ve been like, back then. You wonder what was the same, what was different. It’s not a secret wish, or a request, or anything. Just wistful thinking. You may want to know who they were, but... they deserved a rest, after everything. They deserve some peace.

Taking out the tumbler and can, you start transferring the water to the latter. You brought them for a reason after all, you want to take care of these flowers. They’re important to someone, to you.

You do have to focus on not spilling anything, but your mind can’t help but drift off anyways. You stop pouring, staring down at the uncapped tumbler, it’s clear body showing the half-empty half-full glass. Was it more empty, or full? You didn’t know, so you just started saying both. It’s supplied to determine your personality or something, but you never cared for that.

Actually, you don’t really care about your personality much at all. Not that you don’t like who you are- the opposite actually. You like yourself perfectly, but you couldn’t care less about all the labels and adjectives people use, or well, people say you should use when you’re trying to describe yourself. You’d much rather just say you’re— you, and be done with it. If only it was that simple.

It was easier to talk to other people about their things, to talk about other people. You think that’s called having a good judge of character, but again, you don’t care that much for specifying on that stuff when it comes to yourself.

You look up, changing your view from your tools to the stones once more. You have a lot of thoughts on both of them, for example. On who they are- were, whatever. You never knew him for that long, but you thought you met him for long enough. And there was always the other one that you knew much more about (comparatively).

Asriel... you think of him as... the moon, probably. He’s quiet, but always there despite that. Or he tries to, anyway. He’s empathetic, understanding, but maybe a little too much. He’s always in someone’s shadow, or reflecting someone, being around. But that’s maybe because he’s scared, scared of being alone. Scared of being unwanted. At the same time, he wants to know everything about everyone around him, he wants to be in control of something. That part reminds you a lot of the dark side of the moon, with how most people don’t know anything about it, but they want to, they need to just because they need to. He was a martyr, sometimes even if he really didn’t need to be; he tried to be a hero in a story that didn’t have a villain, not a true one.

But at the same time, he glowed despite it all. He’s a steady rock, one that you know will always have your back, for better or worse. He might be part of the aura of others, but he’ll make it of his own, to spread just as much as he used. He’s soft, maybe a bit of a pushover, but he knows how to get back up eventually, he knows how to toughen up. He’s like the cold comforts of winter, snuggling up with warm hugs and warmer drinks, singing songs by the fire. He’s equally like the heat of summer, spending days of fun and joy, new friends you meet as you walk along in the busy streets... that fluffy fur, untamable by a brush despite the obvious care put into it otherwise. The paws that felt cold to touch, yet you knew that they were never stiff even if you’d press on the beans. His lopsided smile, despite how much trouble he says he’s caused, or at the end, when he finally felt like he could breathe... There’s so much more, but...

You don’t continue filling your can as you pause, it’s already full by now. You instead cap your tumbler and place it back in your bag, pushing it to the side so you don’t trip over it as you water the shining flowers.

You think you never were that close to Asriel. You pieced things together for sure, and you talked to him a bit, but you guys never really became friends per say. You gave him the title, but he was really just walking on the outskirts of one.

It was a little sad to think about, but it didn’t matter. You couldn’t really stop though, as much as you tried to steer your brain away from it. You wished you could’ve hung out more, like—

Them.

If he was the moon, they were the sun. They were bright and sharp and soft at the same time, radiating energy and so, so much love. Their sun-kissed curls shone in the day, framing their face and it’s light freckles that you only noticed when you looked closely. The brown eyes that also looked red like velvet at the same time, mischievous as their smile. Their hands, looking rough, yet always offered to you with only kindhearted feelings. You were only with him for a few moments, but they stuck by you through almost it all.

They weren’t perfect, for sure. They were forceful at times, giving unhelpful advice and directions, sometimes not at all, making fun of you when you hurt and fell. They were mean, and they didn’t care for you at first, didn’t care for anything. They rooted against you, tried to fight you even if they didn’t know how. They were heat, and heat burned. They hated you, and you didn’t know why. Not at first. You still treated them as nice as you could, because of that. You wanted to understand them, not treat them as if being hurt is all there is in the world.

So they stopped. So both of you worked to be better. You had your own issues, and you had to get through that too, but they helped you with that just as you did for them.

Asriel was the moon, and they’re the sun. They shined bright, on days good and bad, they went forward with determination, ambitions high and a presence that never seemed to leave unless it was made to. They came through, they pushed you into change, they helped you up and helped you go. They’ll make you smile, make you feel, all because they want you to carry on. They’re spring, with flowers and butterflies and light. With reasons to live, with reasons to look around and see that things can work out. They’re part of the sky; the clouds that look like anything and everything, a path that you can shape out for yourself. That starry twinkle shows things beyond the both of you, but knowing that means there’s always something to continue forward to, there’s always more for you. They’re like getting into bed and feeling the lull of sleep, and not worrying about missing anything because everything will be there tomorrow, and tomorrow, there’ll be someone waiting for your next adventure.

The silence is the first thing you notice. The second is the weightlessness of your watering can. The third is how water is dripping unto the graves despite that. After that is...

You can feel the heat of your cheeks, your heart pounding into your ear. Your grip loosens, and the can falls into the flowers. Both will be okay. They’re tough, after all.

You bring a hand to your face and wipe some of the tears already trailing off your face, yet you stay silent throughout that. You sniffle as you continue, but you don’t understand why you got worked up in the first place. Your heart aches in a way that you know isn’t physical. Your soul feels worn out but full of life at the same time.

Eventually, you quiet down. Instead of the emptiness you thought you would’ve felt, you feel... lighter. As if a weight was lifted from your soul. A melancholy engraved in your very being, while not gone, was lessened.

You never realized how you never felt anything before, when coming here.

You never tried to feel anything.

You pack up as quietly as you came, but not before taking your polaroid and snapping a picture, just as you’ve done every time you’ve come here. It was time to return to the busy buzz of life, the fickleness of time. To those you love, to the summers and springs, and the moon and sun.

As you leave, the bubbling feeling of bittersweet happiness stays.

As you leave, you don’t notice the faint smiles and held hands of the ones who stayed behind.

To them, maybe, just maybe— you could be the stars.

You’re there, with infinite potential, just out there. You’re a sun to someone, a moon to someone else, you’re like the clouds and the snow and everything in the world, anything you want to be. And maybe it’s something new to you, maybe something no one else can see, but you’re you to yourself so that doesn’t matter. It’s okay.

You’re more than enough.

———

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such-a-random-rambler · 3 years

Text

High - Part 9

This may be done, I’m not sure, there may be one more chapter but I haven’t decided yet.

and @janetm74 do you remember ages ago when you asked

9. Which idea came to you first

it was this bit!

John was wrung out. The last thirty hours had been, not to put too fine a point on it, a waking hell.

Virgil had sorted the nausea, which was just as well as unrelenting thirst hit soon afterwards and it would have been torture to be unable to drink for fear of throwing it back up. Those few hours had almost earned him another bag of fluids anyway. Then came the muscle cramps, crunching through his arms, legs, hands and feet, leaving him writhing and trying not to scream.

He did scream at the hallucinations – The Hood lunged out at him from the shadows, sucking all the air from the room, leaving him clutching at his throat. An earthquake hit, the room collapsing around him, sea rushing in to drown them all in salty torrents. Half formed tentacley things crept up from the floor and wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles, holding him still for the needles to stab him, and the leering monstrous shapes to yell at and taunt him.

When they faded his blood turned to ice, body temperature dropping no matter how many blankets were stacked around him eventually shivering himself into an exhausted sleep.

Now he was awake, eating, drinking and with the energy to sit up Virgil said he was on the mend, but John felt more out of sorts than he ever had.

John’s life was all about control; procedures and protocol. He wasn’t an emotionless robot, as much as Gordon liked to joke about it, but there was a time and a place for them. John wrapped self-discipline around himself like a safety blanket because it was a safety blanket – he lived on a knife edge where an uncontrolled outburst could cause disaster and death.

Sitting in the medbay – the rest of the family sleeping or eating, giving him some much needed privacy – John wrestled with the flood of emotions that assailed him. He flickered between fear, anger, desperation, hate, apathy.

The moment he got a handle on one of them, something else rose up to engulf him, tossing him between tears and paranoia and shaking with rage within minutes. He was unused to such extremes of feeling, and unused to not being able to reign them in when he needed to.

His mind felt fractured, his sense of self washed away and that oh so important self-control practically non existent. He couldn’t dispatch like this! They relied upon him to be calm when they called. He was no use to anyone if he couldn't get a grip, and there wouldn’t be a place for him anymore if he wasn’t useful and he wouldn’t have a home and he’d lose everything and...

His thoughts were spiraling into despair. He couldn’t take it any more.

“Gordon Tracy, John may need assistance and you are closest. Please report the medbay.” The ever-calm and even tones of EOS chimed in his ear.

“What’s the problem?” Gordon hurried his steps along the corridor, flooded with urgency.

“He appears to be in distress.”

“Medically?”

“His heart rate and blood pressure are raised but not dangerously so.”

Unsure of what he was walking into Gordon opened the door to the med room slowly, just in time to see something go slamming into wall beside his head, shards tinkling to the ground.

“Heeey, what’s this.” He said, taking in the floor covered with the remains of several other glasses.

John picked up another tumbler and it followed the last, splintering into crackling shards.

“I think we’re going to want those.” Was all he could think of to say, and not sure that John had noticed him come in, his eyes were so unfocused.

A third, and they were all gone. Except John’s rage wasn’t and with nothing else to throw balled up a fist to swing at the wall. Some of these walls were plasterboard, some were dry wall. Some were the solid rock that the hangers had been carved out of and would definitely break a hand. It was impossible to tell which that particular section of wall was, and it wasn’t worth taking any risks.

Gordon moved fast, stepping in front of John’s fist, pulling it down between them both. The momentum of it allowed him to twist John round and secure his hand behind his back, in a move perfected by hours of training with Kayo.

“No need for that. You don’t need a broken hand on top of everything else.”

“Let me go Gordon.” John twitched, grumbling low, but at least aware enough to know who was in the room with him.

“Not likely.”

“Gordon, please. I....”

“I am not letting you go until you calm down.” John wasn’t a weakling by any stretch of the imagination but this last week had really taken it’s toll and Gordon had no problem holding on.

“Gordon I need... I need....”

“What do you need?”

The strength seemed to leach out of John, and he sunk to the kneel on the floor. Gordon followed him down: ending up curled up over John’s back. He could feel John trembling, heart thundering.

“Talk to me, please.” Gordon whispered.

“There’s fire in my brain” John practically sobbed, and Gordon’s heart broke for him. “And ants crawling under my skin.”

“It’s going to be ok.”

“How do you know?”

A long time ago Gordon was in a bad place, hadn’t been feeling himself for a long time. He’d thought the whole world had changed and would never be the same. But it had only been temporary. He had healed and grown and those nightmares were in the distant past. John was going through something very different, but maybe Gordon could still help.

“This is just another side effect. You’ve had all the physical ones and now you have this. It will pass.”

The remaining fight went out of John and Gordon released his wrist. With a little bit of shuffling Gordon got in front of him, and settled so that John’s head was resting over his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around his big brother in a firm hug and felt John do the same, hands fisting into Gordon’s shirt.

“Did you know that a hug can actually lower your blood pressure? Scientifically proven, that.” Gordon said, squeezing tight.

“Hmmmm.”

“You’ve been stuck in this room for far too long, you need a change of scenery.” Gordon said, thinking about the weeks he had spent looking at the same four walls and how it had bored him to tears, the sameness of it all. John lived in the ever-changing vastness of space, being confined to this room must be doing the same.

“I... I don’t know. I can’t think...”

“Then leave the thinking to me. I’m better at it anyway.”

John snorted.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s move.”

Gordon had to drag John up, but once there he could stand on his own. Sort of. Gordon needed to give him the occasional poke for balance, and pull for direction, but John did most of the work himself. Scott put down the book he was reading as they passed through the living room on the way outside, but didn’t say anything, just watched. Gordon loved it when Scott trusted him.

They made their way slowly down to the chairs by the pool, to the one that was right by the forest line and always in shade. Gordon pushed John down, and lifted his legs onto the lounger. John looked calm again, but a blank, empty, exhausted kind of calm.

“Just lay back and concentrate on the wind on the trees. That also helps with high blood pressure.”

“It still hurts.” John sighed with a slow blink.

“I know. I’m going to get you a drink of water.”

When Gordon got back with the water – and a blanket and a snack bar, just in case – John was fast asleep.

#John Tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #drug use #Gordon Tracy

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fics-not-tragedies · 4 years

Text

Is this what you wanted?

This fic is based on a request I got ages ago, that was submitted by @kollover24and I hope this is what you had on your mind love!

SUMMARY: Santino sees how you sign to Ares that you’ve never had an orgasm and he tells you that he can easily resolve that issue. Words: 1725; Warnings: smut;

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @mikaneonox; @drunkonyellow; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry; @silverlambcaptain; @scarletmoon83; @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day; @krazycags01; @charlottebonnie; @moonlit-raven-haven; @girl-at-the-verge; @boopdedoop; @jardani-jovonovich-bitch; @ladyreapermc; @wifeofdarklordsworld; @mysticfluffyness; @zombiepandajfish; @kollover24; @greenmanalishi; @persephonehemingway; @lovelycarose;

Santino D’Antonio was the kind of man who had to be good at everything. He was the kind of man who had to be better than every other person in the room. You were lucky to be one of the people he worked with on a daily basis. Of course it took ages for you two to gain each other’s trust, but when it finally happened you two formed an unusual type of friendship that lasted.

Now you, along with his other associates, were having drinks at one of the bars he owned. He disappeared for a moment with the rest of his henchmen, while you and Ares were left in the booth patiently waiting for his return.

“Quite a wild night, eh?” Ares signed to you sliding another glass full of whisky across the table in your direction.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that…” you signed back and accepted the drink lifting it up in the air and Ares clinged her glass with yours smiling widely.

“How’s your new guy?” She wiggled her eyebrows with the movements of her hands.

“My new guy?” You asked her, taking a long sip of the whisky, “Just like every previous one.”

“So… it’s not working this time too?” Ares scratched her forehead, “Have you tried that vibrator I recommended you?”

“I did…” you signed with a shrug and fiddled with the tumbler in your hands.

“And…?”

“And I still haven’t had an orgasm…”

“Is that true, bella?” You saw Santino emerge from behind where Ares was seated and you blushed furiously.

You wanted to sink into the ground knowing they were now looking at your flushed cheeks.

“Well… em… I-I…”

If you didn’t want the ground to open up and swallow you before, you definitely did now – your cheeks heated up again and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet eyes with neither of them.

“It’s late, we can deal with what’s left here alone. Go home, Ares” Santino signed to her and she mouthed a silent ‘sorry’ when she was walking away.

“Sorry… Do you want me to leave too?”

“No, please stay with me, bella…” he explained, while pouring himself another glass of whisky then sat close to you, your thighs pressed together, “Tell me… what you signed to Ares… was that true?”

“No… I mean… yes…” You sighed, getting frustrated.

“Oh” he breathed, eyebrows raised in shock.

“Don’t just say 'oh’, Santino. Oh, for fuck’s sake… I’m the one embarrassed here” you sighed, putting your face in your hands.

“But… haven’t you’ve done yourself? Using your hands, /bella? I bet you’ve done it” he tried to reassure you, his fingertips dancing on your naked arm.

The room was deadly silent.

“Wait… You mean that you’ve never, at all, had an orgasm? Not even one, bella?” Santino was shocked, this wasn’t a thing he was told about quite often.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, yes” you groaned, finally looking up at him with your red face.

“Why not?” He said, incredulously.

“Because there’s something not working properly in me apparently… It’s not like I haven’t tried!” You cried. That’s when you saw something change in his face, that wild sparkle visible in his eyes.

“I could try myself if you let me… I’ve never failed at satisfying my lover before, bella” he said, confidently.

“What makes you think you could do it?” You snorted, his arrogance was almost funny.

“I’m telling you I could. Potrei farlo con le dita, potrei farlo con la lingua e potrei farlo sicuramente con il mio cazzo!” You were used to hearing Santino say vulgar things, but you couldn’t help but get a little bit aroused at the thought of finally being able to understand what an orgasm feels like.

“Santino, just forget about it…” You took a sip from your glass, but he took it out of your hand and placed it back onto the table.

“It’ll happen tonight if you let me, bella” he challenged. Fuck, it was getting harder and harder to resist him.

“We can’t do it… not here… also… fuck you’re my friend after all” you sighed.

“Your friend, who is quite willing how good a woman can feel” he countered.

“For fuck’s sake, fine. Show me just how quickly Santino D’Antonio can make a woman cum with his Italian fingers.”

“Challenge accepted” he smirked.

Then you found yourself laying on your back, spread out across the table in the snug of his private booth, with your dress hitched up above your waist and your underwear thrown somewhere on the floor. Santino had lifted your legs up towards your shoulders and pinned them there with one hand, while his other hand worked on the task he had assigned to himself.

“Does that feel good, bella?” He asked stroking along your folds before dipping two fingers in and out of you at a reasonably slow pace.

“I don’t know, feels okay I guess…” you said, it didn’t feel much different to any of your other sexual encounters.

“What about now?” He asked, curling his fingers slightly more so they were dragging against you on the inside. Oh, well that was a little different.

“Yeah, a little better…” you sighed, it was getting better – still not enough to have you seeing stars.

Santino continued curling his fingers into you, ensuring he brushed against that spot inside you each time. It wasn’t until he brought his thumb up to press against your clit that you gasped in surprise, getting a little bit wetter around his fingers, “Hmmm, so you liked that then?”

“Yeah… it… it feels good” you sighed, “But I still don’t think it’s working how it should be, Santino.”

“Give it time, bella” he said softly.

After a couple more minutes, it felt good enough that you were moaning softly while he pressed his fingers into you before dragging them out at an excruciatingly slow but rough pace. This was definitely the most sexual gratification you had ever gotten… but you just didn’t know if you would reach your peak like this, feeling like you still needed more.

“Santino, this feels so good and I’m thinking maybe if you could…” you trailed off, annoyed at having to swallow your pride and ask your best friend to fuck you good and hard.

“Ask me…” he smirked, “Ask me properly, bella.”

“Santino, I think I could probably do it if you fucked me” you whined, moaning as his thumb circled against your clit just right.

“You really want that?” He asked, “Well, conveniently my cock is rock fucking hard for you, bella.”

And well… that did something to you, knowing that Santino D’Antonio himself was aroused by you. You groaned, grinding down against his hand, getting impatient.

“Cazzo” Santino moaned, watching you become even more desperate for an orgasm, “Yes, bella, I’ll fuck you.”

He let go of your leg, slipped his fingers out of you and made quick work of his suit pants, pulling them down just enough to free his aching erection. You whined at the loss of contact, but it was only seconds before he was pressing his hot member against your entrance and you were wrapping your legs around his waist to hold him close.

“Oh f-fuck” you moaned, as he traced around your clit with the tip. It was like suddenly the room was filled with electricity, you were shaking with pleasure every time he slid his erection up and down your folds in an effort to tease you. It was right then, that you knew he would be the one to make you come eventually, “Stop teasing Santi, show me what you can do.”

His eyes darkened at your words and he slowly pushed into you, until he was filling you completely. He thrust in a few times before changing up the angle slightly, so every time he pushed into you he’d hit just the right spot – making you squirm around on the table and moan loudly.

“Tell me when you’re going to come, bella” he whispered against your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses into your skin.

He brought a hand in between your bodies so he could rub your clit to the same rhythm that he was drilling his hips into you. You were beginning to feel like something was building inside of you, like you were finally going to get some relief.

“Santi, oh fuck… keep going… don’t stop…” You begged, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to fucking stop until your coming around my cock, /bella” he whispered into your ear, pulling out all the stops to try to get you there.

Tt felt so fucking good. Santino fucking into you roughly, rubbing you in all the right ways and whispering dirty words into your ear. Maybe this is what you had needed all along, some arrogant twat with a reputation for overachieving to make your orgasm his mission. You would never admit it but you had never been more grateful for his existence.

“Santino, I think… oh yes, Santi… I think I’m gonna…” you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth falling open in pleasure. You had no idea if words were even coming out of your mouth; all you knew was that this was the best feeling in the world.

“Go on. Come for me /bella” he whispered, on a particularly hard thrust and that was it. Your muscles contracted and your clit throbbed as finally, pleasure exploded inside of you. You felt yourself getting wetter as the world around you went white and stars exploded, dancing behind your closed eyelids.

“Oh cazzo bella… cazzo” you heard Santino moaning, when you were finally able to make sense of what was happening around you. He pulled out slowly, cock still extremely hard but clearly a little dazed at what had just happened.

“Santino, that was… the best. The best ever” you groaned, pushing your hair out of your sweaty face, “I’m sorry, do you want to finish?”

“I just need a moment” he whispered.

You reached down to guide his erection back into you, even though you were still shivering through aftershocks, “Do you want to come or do you want to reflect on what you just did to me?” You giggled.

“I can definitely do both, bella” he moaned, setting himself a new rhythm.

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

I have a suggestion for the Meet Ugly Prompts! Can you do 36, Sternclay, NSFW? Thanks so much! :)

Here you go!

36. it’s mid-apocalypse and you break into my secret shelter and I swear I’ll kill you if you don’t give me three damn good reasons why I shouldn’t

Barclay is running out of daylight. It was worth it, he found two flocks of survivors, waited with them until Ned was able to get the car down and pick them up (the Lincoln is remarkably immune to hoards of undead/possessed humans). They’d told him there was another group further East, that they’d passed them the evening before and tried to link up for greater safety. So Barclay took his chances, just like everyone does these days, and gone to find them.

He’s found them; eight people, all prone on the ground, all with white ooze seeping from their mouths and the wounds on their bodies. Too late. He’s almost immune to being too late. Almost.

It’s not worth trying to dispatch all of them, he’ll lose what time he has left to find shelter if he does. He turns into the woods, trying to remember if he can make it to the cave up the rock-face or if he’ll be spending the night on the move.

His Sylph sense of smells picks up something human and he pauses, tilts his head and listens for footsteps. What he gets is the crunch of leaf litter behind him, from the clearing where he found the newly minted undead.

Maybe the person nearby has shelter. Maybe they’re vulnerable and need help.

Cautiously, he takes off his bracelet, and the scent becomes much stronger. He follows it, finds its source at a log. Kneeling down, he feels along the ground and finds metal beneath a full foot of dirt and leaves.

The sun goes down, and he shoves the log, sliding the hidden door open enough to drop down into the darkness and slide the door shut over him. A human couldn't manage the weight, but a Bigfoot certainly can.

Once in the holding room, he keeps the bracelet off long enough to spot a door to his right. He turns human, considers his options, and then politely knocks on the solid metal. No answer, but not moaning voices either.

He could probably manage the night in this holding area. But just to be safe…

He pulls out one of the last things they got from Heathcliffe prior to blowing the gate closed (for now. He hopes) to at least foil part of Reconciliation’s plan. A universal lock pick. Holding it against the metal, gears whir and tumblers fall until the door swings open. He steps through into a well lit bunker and is immediately greeted by the barrel of a handgun.

“Shut the door.”

Barclay shuts the door, keeps his hands up in surrender.

“Give me three good reasons why I shouldn’t shoot you.” The man, tall and lean and clearly comfortable with the weapon in his hand stares him down with steel in his blue eyes.

“I, uh, I’m on a rescue team, see?” He indicates the torn red patch on his jacket, the one volunteer rescuers got when this all went down.

“How do I know you didn’t steal that from someone who was?”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“I’ve run across no fewer than three groups of people claiming to be ‘helpers’ or to offer shelter who then, on all three occasions, tried to kill and eat me.”

“What the fuck, there’s still plenty of food places?”

A huff, “you seem genuinely indignant, so fine; one reason. You need two more.”

“I, I honestly didn’t know if anyone was down here, I just came down because it got dark. There was a party I, uh,” he swallows, ashamed, “I didn’t get to in time. They’re infected now and I didn’t want to get bit.”

“Shit, they’re close and you opened the main door?”

“And closed it!” Barclay says hurriedly, “but if they or anything else does get in, I swear I’ll help you. And I’m damn good in a fight.”

“One reason left.”

“I, I, uh, I’m a good cook?”

“How does that help us in this situation?”

“You still gotta eat, right?”

His walky talky crackles with Mama’s voice, “Barclay, you somewhere safe? Over.”

He doesn’t move.

“Bud, if you’re in trouble gimme your best guess at coordinates and I’ll come. Over.”

“Reason number four: if you kill me, you’ll be dealing with her, and I cannot stress how terrifying she is when someone she loves is hurt.”

The man hesitates, then lowers the gun, nodding. Barclay picks up the walky-talky.

“Found a bunker, staying the night, over and out.”

“Come on, then.” The man waves for Barclay to follow him into the main room, “but if you try anything, know I’m not a man of empty threats.”

“Clearly.” Barclay mutters, taking in the bunker; it’s well supplied, like a miniature house, and if one did not know what was going on outside, it would seem cozy. No longer with terror tunnel vision, he gets a better look at his reluctant host. Short, black hair that’s been combed back, sharp cheekbones and a clean-shaven, handsome face. He’s almost Barclay’s height, which is novel.

“So, uh, how’d you get such a sweet hiding spot?”

“I am, or was, an FBI agent. I knew where many of the apocalypse fallout shelters were, and was lucky enough to be near one when this all started. I was en route to a town called Kepler.”

“No shit.” Barclay sits down at the tiny kitchen table, “that’s where I’m from. Where we’ve been running the rescue missions out of.”

“I’ll admit I’m not up on how things are going outside. I lost contact with my superiors three days into the epidemic. They were my last tie to what was happening. As I said, the last times I went out to search for others, to try and help if I could, other people posed an issue.” He sighs, sits down across from Barclay, “I guess it’s nice knowing I rid the coming world of three groups of people who would eat others for fun.”

The implications of that statement take a moment to sink in and Barclay is torn between feeling sorry for how frightened the man must have been and understanding just how close he was to dying a few minutes ago.

“I’m sorry you’ve had such shit luck. Maybe the nice digs balance it out?”

A polite laugh, “they do. I was worried at first about getting lonely, but that’s not all that different from how my work life used to be. Most people don’t want to pal around with a man in black on a mission.”

“That does explain the suit.” Barclay points to the slacks and dress shirt the man is wearing and the jacket hung over a nearby chair.

The man blushes, “I, uh, I’ve only had my work clothes, most of which were suits. Plus, they make me feel a bit more like...well, like myself I guess. That’s always been my fear of apocalyptic scenarios; that’d I’d stop being me and become some faceless creature bent on survival.”

Barclay shudders, “yeah, I get that.”

A hand extends, blue eyes taking on a bit of warmth, “I’m Joseph. Joseph Stern.”

“Barclay.” Barclay shakes his hand, noting the way Joseph inhales sharply at the touch.

“Are you hungry? The food in here is about what you’d expect, but it’s still food.”

“Here, lemme see what I can do.”

Joseph shows him the shelves of canned food, instant ramen, and MREs, and Barclay sets to work in the weird little kitchen. The bunker must have a generator running of some non-electrical source of power, because he’s able to get a hotplate working. Cooking soothes him, a familiar rhythm in an alien space. Joseph sits nearby, sometimes talking with him and sometimes inventorying his supplies. It’s been awhile since he spoke this easily with someone; he loves his friends, but they can talk over him very easily.

When he presents the two bowls, Joseph’s face lights up.

“This, this looks amazing! How did you do this from all that? Wait, is that Spam?”

“Yep.” Barclay twirls some ramen on his fork, “adds a hell of a lot of salt and it’s actually pretty nice deep fried.”

Joseph takes a bite and moans, “lord, I’ve missed food. Er” he clears his throat, “that came out wrong.”

“Bit of a foodie are we?” Barclay teases, bumping Joseph’s shin with his toe.

“Yes, actually. I traveled a lot for work, and food is a great way to get to know a place. Plus, people always talk easier in restaurants, so it’s an excellent way to do recon.”

“What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever eaten?”

“Hmmmmmm. Is it tacky to say foie gras fries I had once?”

“No and holy shit that sounds good.”

“Oh, it was. I do love a good fried rice though; like, the kind you get from some hole in the wall place that just sells every kind of Asian cuisine mushed together.”

“Mmm, I haven’t made fried rice in awhile. Maybe I should do that when I get back.”

“Oh, right. How far is-”

The walky talky squeaks and Barclay grabs it in a flash.

“Mama, that you? Over.”

“Yep, it’s me. Indrid got a word to Aubrey through the ol’ third eye and says to stay indoors all through tomorrow and into the next day. Gonna rain buckets, make the roads rough for anyone who’s human but not that dangerous for an oozer. You feel me? Over.”

“Copy that. I’ll stay put here. Over.”

“We’ll let you know when it’s clear. Over and out.”

“Looks like I’m staying here a little longer.”

“That’s absolutely fine. Did she say third eye?”

“Uh, hey, you wanna grab dessert? I saw some Twinkies on those shelves and haven’t had them in ages.”

Joseph raises his eyebrow in a way that indicates he knows exactly what Barclay is doing, but follows him all the same. They spend the evening eating baked goods of dubious quality and talking on the couch. At some point Barclay adjusts, bumping against Joseph, but rather than pull away the agent just lays his legs across his lap. When the time comes to sleep, Joseph shows him to a bedroom behind yet another heavily fortified door.

“This is kinda…”

‘Grim? I agree.” They stand between the two small beds in the grey room, the lamp buzzing above them. Joseph’s is on the right, somehow more tidily made than the one that hasn’t been touched.

“We could, um, push them together. If that’s something you’re comfortable with. Might feel less like a prison and be warmer too.”

“Works for me.” Barclay pushes his bed away from the wall. Were it safe to do so, he’d show off, by lifting it over his head. He bets Joseph would like that.

Barclay waits until Joseph is changing into pajamas to strip down to his boxers and slide under the covers, not wanting to presume his comfort with Barclay’s mostly naked body. Judging by the appreciative look he gets when Joseph lifts the covers and stares, he didn’t need to be so concerned.

“Y’know, you can just ask for a hug.” He chuckles when he notices Joseph hesitantly inching closer.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortableAH.” He laughs as Barclay pulls him into a hug, smoothing his hands along his soft pajamas.

“Ohhhh” the sigh is soft, chaste, but still dripping with want, “this feels nice.” His fingers trail up and down Barclay’s chest.

“Mmm, but we both gotta rest up. Been a long day. Get some sleep, agent.”

Ever since the Reconciliation-generated illness broke the perimeter, the other Lodge residents have had trouble sleeping. Barclay’s gotten into the habit of kissing their foreheads; for his kind on Sylvain, it was always a gesture of protection. So when he kisses the top of Joseph’s head, it’s purely out of habit.

Joseph just sighs again and murmurs, “goodnight, Barclay.”

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

He wakes up before Joseph, gives him a much more deliberate kiss on the cheek and heads out into the main bunker. Makes coffee and a simple breakfast, revels in the delight on Joseph’s face when he walks out and sees the meal waiting for him.

They play cards after breakfast, Joseph better at BlackJack and Barclay better at poker. Try their hands at a chess match, though Barclay is rusty (but more than happy to let a handsome guy show off for him). Joseph digs out what books are available, so they can read now and then. But mostly, they just talk. Joseph talks about his work, about his interest in the paranormal. Barclay talks about the Lodge, his friends, offers a carefully edited series of stories from his traveling days.

They’re laid out on the couch, Barclay functionally spooning the smaller man as they read. He doesn’t notice he’s running his hand up and down his side until Joseph moans.

“Will, um, will you keep doing that? I, it’s been awhile since I’ve been touched like that. But, um, more to the point, I like it when you touch me. So, please?”

“Course.” Barclay grins, sets his book down so he can loop his other arm under Joseph’s head. He slows his strokes, takes time to savor the muscle he feels under the dress shirt. Even in his human form, he can smell that the agent is aroused. Then again, the fact he’s twitching his hips is kind of a give away.

Barclay rumbles out a laugh, leans forward and nuzzles the back of his neck, kissing it when Joseph gasps.

“Barclay, will you--that is, I want, unnnnfhcuck” He moans when Barclay gently nips the base of his neck, trailing little lovebites all over his throat.

“What is it babe? What do you want?” Barclay bites his ear just as he’s trying to answer, causing another whimper in place of a reply.

“Oh fuck you.” Joseph snickers, turning his head to kiss him, the awkward angle doing nothing to dampen the hunger in it.

“Can if you want to.”

“Good lord yes” Both Joseph’s hands find his arm, clinging to him as he wiggles his ass backwards to grind against him. Barclay’s cock eagerly responds, and Joseph groans, excited, “oh yes I like that very much.”

“Not sure you’re ready for that yet, babe. Much as I like the idea of cumming in you until you’re fucking dripping, rather be on the safe side and use a condom the first time I fuck you into the ground.”

“Figures that’s one of the things I haven’t found in this place.” Joseph grumbles as Barclay unbuttons his slacks.

“Think I got something you’ll like just as well.”

“Okay, oh, ohOkay.” Joseph tips inelegantly backwards as Barclay yanks off his pants and underwear. Barclay growls, hooks his legs over his shoulders and dives forward.

“FUCK” Joseph grips his head, pulling him closer as he laps at him, “ohlord, oh thank you, fuck.”

Barclay growls, does it again when the noise makes the agent tense and moan. Chuckles with each new sound of pleasure, drinking them in as he relishes Joseph filling his senses.

“Fuck, shit, Barclay you’re going positively wild and I love itGAHhhnnnyes.” Slick coats Barclay’s bear as he drags his face up so he can suck Joseph’s dick. God almighty does he want to be inside him, want to make him scream as he fucks him open in both forms, want to watch his body bounce and strain to take his Sylph form while those blue eyes go teary with pleasure.

He cups Joseph’s ass with both hands, pressing him as hard against him as he can manage, his focus stripped down to doing whatever it takes to make him cum.

“Fuck, fuck, Barclay, ohlordohfuckme, like that, please just like that.” His ass tenses under his hands and Barclay flicks his tongue out one last time as he cums, panting and still pleading for more.

Taking care not to actually hurt him, Barclay hauls Joseph so he’s laying on the couch before pouncing on him, kissing him until he’s gasping, growling and rumbling praise as Joseph manages to get his jeans open.

“That’s it babe, jack me off, lemme cum all over you, oh fucking-A that’s good.”

Joseph moans a little at the compliment, then smirks, “you have a thing for marking me, big guy?”

“Fuck yeah I do.” Barclay sinks his teeth into his shoulder, nearly howls when that makes Joseph speed up.

The agent swiftly undoes the buttons on his dress shirt, running his hands across his chest as he grins teasingly up at Barclay, “you want to cum on this, want me to let you make a mess of me?”

“Uhhuh, fuck, Joseph, you’re all mine babe, all mine.” He drops down to kiss him, pumping his hips so his cock fuck’s Joseph’s fist over and over again. He’s growling uncontrollably, kisses turning messy feral as he licks and nips at the human’s lips and neck.

When he cums he buries the sound against Joseph’s throat, praying he can’t notice how non-human it is. Glancing down gives him a perfect look at the last of his cum dripping onto the agent’s stomach, and he whines, low and animal, with affectionate want.

“That, that was, ha” Joseph kisses his cheek, “good lord I can’t remember the last time a hook up felt that good.”

“Glad you liked it.” Barclay smiles at him, kisses his nose.

“I did. I like you too, Barclay. So much.”

The come down on the couch together, cuddled up and trading innocent kisses between whispers of affection.

As they’re cleaning up, Barclay picks up the walky-talky, intending to call Mama for an update, “y’know, I meant to ask last night; what were you going to Kepler for?”

“My work with the UP. I was investigating a string of disappearances tied to Bigfoot.”

Barclay drops the device.

“I know, it sounds silly in the face of what happened next.”

“Uh huh, right, I mean, it’s good to have a goal-”

“Barclay, this is Mama, we got the all clear to pick you up. Over.”

Joseph looks at the radio, visibly sad but clearly resolve to the fact Barclay will leave him.

He could do just that. Leave him here to keep fending for himself. Pretend this never happened. Pretend he doesn’t matter.

Keeping an eye on Joseph, he gives Mama the nearest spot on the road to pick him up.

“And, uh, Mama? Tell Ned he’ll be picking up two people. I found someone I can’t bear to leave behind. Over.” He holds out his hand. Joseph looks at it, then around the room, then at his face.

Then he smiles, and takes his hand.

Barclay knows they’ll be explaining to do down the road. Bu right now, that doesn’t scare him. Right now, Joseph’s hand is in his, and that’s all that matters.

#meet ugly #Sternclay #agent stern/barclay #prompt fills

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stusbunker · 4 years

Text

He Is, Therefore I Am

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean and Sam Winchester

Written for: @impala-dreamer‘s Make Me Feel It Challenge

Beta’d by the amazing: @itmighthavebeenintentional

Inspired by: Brandi Carlile’s The Story

Warnings: Show level violence and angst.

^*^*^*^

I am struggling here, which is kind of funny when you think about it. In one way or another, my life has been a perpetual struggle. But that’s all Chuck’s fault, isn’t it? Everything I’ve done to push back the tide has only opened another fissure somewhere else. Because that’s what he wanted, he liked to keep us dancing for him. There might be no way out of this now, but there is one thing I know for certain: it’s not going to end on his terms. Sam and I aren’t going to off each other. That’s not Chuck’s call, that one never was.

----

Dean’s tired. I feel it almost as much as I feel my own exhaustion, like a shell around him. He nods as I explain my plans for the day, but he’s not really hearing me. I can’t keep the chuckle from my voice when I tell him I’ll wake him up if I find anything. He hums a response and I raise my voice and shake him a bit to wake him enough to make it the last ten feet from the door jam to the bed. I don’t even taste the coffee once it’s finished brewing.

----

Sam’s been quiet since Eileen’s not around. Sucks; kid had that genuine lightness to him from the moment she had been brought back. And now, it’s fraying. If anybody deserves somebody, it’s Sammy. I know it’s impossible with what we do, hell I’ve proven it is. But he should get some happily ever after crap, even if it’s just happily for as long as possible. Another thing Chuck needs to be punched over, honestly, just fuck that fucking asshole.

I’ve been tryin’ to keep him smiling, or at least out of his head when we’re on the road. Laying on the bad notes more than necessary, he doesn’t need to know I’m doing it on purpose. Some songs were made to be belted out, ‘snot my fault. I catch a glimpse of my eyes in the rearview; shit, when’d the wrinkles start sticking?

But Sammy’s singing along now, and I forget my vanity. Because this is my happily-for-as-long-as-possible.

----

It’s so fucking dark that I close my eyes and listen, silently begging to find them first, to pull myself together, to find a way out. My gun’s in my hand, lightweight and familiar, brick wall biting into my back as I creep around into the next room. Even though I can barely see, I can feel the space expanding out in front of me, gaping with possibility. Somewhere, metal crashes and I stop being cautious.

“DEAN?!” No one answers.

I’m nearing some scaffolding, try to step around it without rocking it, but there’s someone else here now. I can feel their eyes in the dark, but I still can’t see them. They don’t seem to even breathe. Maybe they’re not werewolves. And suddenly I feel very exposed. I turn on the spot, anticipating the ambush. It doesn’t come. Everything goes quiet, then a shot rings out somewhere outside. I give up on quiet and bolt for the industrial sized door at the far end of the warehouse.

Another shot is fired, but I don’t register it because there’s more than two after all.

----

Sam shoulda cleared the building already, it’s practically empty from the remodeling anyhow. The tarps in the windows rustle in the wind high above my head as I keep to the perimeter. I’m banking on it being a bust, but then I hear him scream my name and I’m running. The gravel is loose, so I gotta slow down to keep from biting it. As I round the corner, aiming for the service entrance connecting the two buildings, I spook one of them.

He’s big but fast, and he gets me with his claws as I land a right hook. My shoulder’s screaming as I land on it. I roll and quickly get a shot off. It only slows him down. I kick away and fire again.

----

I sidestep right before reaching the crumbling pavement, throwing the one on my heels out with their own momentum. The one that had been watching me goes for my knees and, I’m already aiming, but all-too-soon missing him.

“Sammy!” Dean’s hollering, but he’s somewhere on the other end of the building and I’m falling.

He’s okay.

It’s going to be okay; keep fighting.

The cement floor gets me hard and I am struggling to get another shot off. But the one I dodged is on me again, and all I can see is the mass of his torso and the floor. I choke on the stench of them. The demon knife bites into my lower back as I twist to reach it. My hand crumbles beneath a heavy boot. I’m screaming in pain and then, almost in slow motion, I see him reach wide, a clawed hand ready to swipe at my throat. My eyes slam shut.

----

Sam musta found the other one because there’s matching shots seconds after I put the big one down. I call for him, but don’t hear anything back. Instantly, I’m booking it to the far end where I am hoping they are. The crunch of gravel is giving me away, but soon I reach a derelict parking lot that gets me to the bend where I can see a stocky wolf stumble back inside a delivery door.

I hit the gas, gun tight in my sweaty hand.

When I reach the door, I scream at the heap that is half my brother. The guy flinches enough for me to get three in his chest. But then I’m on my ass, again! Wrestling the third one Sam had insisted existed. I pin an arm behind his back, but he’s getting too close with his fangs now. I roll and try and get him in a leg lock, his free hand nearly gutting me. I hear Sam behind me, so I roll again, presenting his back for a clear shot. Like a fucking meat shield.

I can’t help but laugh, Sam shot lefty and we still got ‘em.

“Anymore?” I’m riding the high that only comes from almost biting it.

“Not that I’ve seen,” Sam groans, shaking out his right hand. My victory is short lived as I internally panic over his injury. ‘What the hell happened’ screams in my head, a voice that I won’t ever completely lose berating me.

“You alright?” I check, but don’t get all mother hen about it. He’s standing for god’s sake.

“Think it’s broken,” Sam huffed. Fucking hospitals.

We make it back to my baby and I try, “you think Jack could---?”

Sam shakes his head and grimaces, it’s bad. I stop asking questions and high tail it back to town.

----

Newly minted insurance cards from the juice we got from Fortuna ended up saving us a lot of time and energy. I swear I’m the only one who gets their hands taken from them; Dean’s playing at trying not to gloat. But if he wasn’t so smug, I know he’d be internalizing it as his fault, so I shake my head at him and give him the finger behind the nurse’s back as I wait. Finally, I can dole out the information for the pharmacy closest to the bunker to the woman at the desk.

My hand’s plastered and I dry swallow the first round of painkillers before we make it home. All I want is to pass the fuck out, but I’ve got wolf guts in my hair and I can smell my own dried sweat as I haul myself out of the Impala. This night will never end.

Dean beat me to the shower, but he doesn’t turn on the water. I give him five minutes until I can barely stand upright and pound with the side of my cast and immediately regret it.

“Dude! Hurry up already!”

He pulls the door open, fully clothed with a plastic shopping bag strung through one fist.

“Took you long enough, come here.” He beckons me in, takes my bum wrist and threads my hand through the bag until he can tie it off. Dean whips a roll of first aid tape out of his back pocket and proceeds to seal off the bag while ensuring that I lose the most amount of arm hair when unraveling it. He slaps the closure and I groan without looking at him.

I thank him before he leaves me alone, but he just waves it off, heads to his room and gives me the first shower. Tonight could have been so much worse and I try not to overanalyze it as I let the hot water add to my wooziness. I keep afloat until I pass as clean. I fall into bed not five minutes later, safe and sound once again because my brother had my back. How the fuck can Chuck think that is going to change?

-----

I gotta drag Sam’s fucking goldy locks out of the drain before I can even start my shower. Gross. But the water pressure does its magic. I almost pass out standing up, I feel so relaxed. Glad I sucked down that second coffee over dinner, it was a bitch driving in. I glance in Sammy’s room as I pass, he’s already snoring. Drugs must be workin’.

Cas and Jack are on some trail and at this point I don’t know if I want to know. Between Billie and the hearts, it’s just another fucking ordeal. Another flaming hoop. But, at least the kid’s alive, and Cas has eyes on him this go ‘round. My shirt feels tight around the collar, so I pull it off. I bury myself in my sheets, fighting to get comfortable.

The hunt flashes before my eyes, everything over with in the blink of an eye. Just like yesterday and tomorrow. And every miserable fucking day of my entire life. Except we pulled it off. We keep pulling it off, and with whatever Chuck’s got comin’ I’m lucky because I’ve got Sam in my corner. Because without him, I’d be dead. Without me? He’d probably hit another dog, at the very least.

It’s quiet, I eye the light creepin’ beneath the door. Exhaustion burrows into my memories, but instead of darkness, it surfaces with only the steady echo of Sam’s heavy breathing in some motel room, every motel room. The familiar rhythm settles something inside me, finally letting me sleep.

^*^*^

Tags: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @thoughtslikeaminefield @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @princessofthefandomrealm @awesomesusiebstuff @wingedcatninja

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean angst #sam angst #sam and dean #soulmates #brotp #song insired

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