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dawnagustd · 1 year

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keeps || jjk

⇝ author’s note: I’m shamelessly late but I couldn’t get this to post. Yeah, Jungkook’s live broke me and I had to write them. I hope you’ll still accept it since I’m like 3 hours late lol.

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follow the story: hours (main story) | the unholy drabble | nails drabble

11:21am You: Someone left this in my car. I wonder who it belongs to...

Jungkook laughs as he looks at the picture on his phone. It’s been almost two months, and you’re only just finding the beanie he may have or have not left beneath your backseat. Memories of the day it was tucked into the crevice replay in his mind.

“I couldn’t wait.”

He murmurs those words as his lips crash against yours.

You wrap your limbs around him in a needy embrace, drawing groans from his throat. He’s just happy you’re as excited to see him as he is to see you. Sure, it’s only been two days, but what can he say?

You’re addicting.

“Should we really do it here?” Your moans grow slightly louder when his hands start to explore your body over your clothes. “What if my coworkers come back from lunch early?”

Jungkook lifts his head momentarily to scan the parking garage. Besides a few vehicles closer to the elevator, this floor is mostly empty.

“We’re good. I’ll be quick. Promise.”

Returning his attention to you, he buries his face within the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as if it’ll be the only thing getting him by until the next time he sees you—and it will be.

“Fuck. I miss you, Jungkook,” you utter and he almost hops in the driver’s seat and takes you back to his place.

“I miss you too, love. That’s why I’m here.”

Don’t get him wrong. He’s happy you got a promotion but he can’t help but be selfish and wish you were able to come over as much as you used to. It’s not your fault at all, but he hopes you aren’t using work as an excuse for space. He’d totally get it if you just wanted him to back off a little. He can’t help how he feels about you, but he does care enough to value your boundaries.

As the heat begins to warm your bodies, clothing begins to shed. First your jackets, then anything extra that’s preventing you from accessing your most intimate parts. He gets rid of your pants first and then pulls down his jeans. He could care less about who has a view of his toned ass. He’s only here to give you what he knows you need.

“Let me have a little taste, okay?”

“Jungkook.”

“Please, just a little,” he pleads.

His doe eyes always make it hard for you to resist. Especially when it’s something you secretly want yourself.

“Fine. But hurry!”

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second. He peels your panties away from your center and gasps as he watches the strings of arousal stretch and snap. He can’t help but tease you while he dips his finger in to scoop some of it up.

“Always a fucking mess,” he whispers.

“Don’t you start.”

Your words come out shaky, the neediness in your tone revealing how sexually frustrated you are. He’s not going to make you wait for it any longer.

He dives in, tasting your pussy and moaning like it’s a delicacy. Slurping and smacking noises fill his ears as he feasts. He’s in heaven, but reluctantly he has to pull away.

You whimper in disappointment at the loss, but he shushes you.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you.”

He digs in his back pocket until he finds the condom he stashed in there in preparation for this moment. Your impatience has your hips lifting off the seat, bumping into his crotch. Your nails dig into his flesh when your pussy finally feels his cock waiting to slide into your entrance.

“Say my name if it feels good.”

Slowly sliding in, he can feel your walls expanding to let him in, but they grasp him like a vice when he bottoms out. His arms are trembling as he struggles to hover over you. However, when you pull him on top of you, he doesn’t resist. You moan his name into his ear like he asked you, and he’s never heard anyone say it so beautifully.

“Jungkook, I–”

You stutter, struggling to express how much you’re enjoying him buried in your guts.

“Feel good?” he asks, and you nod your head. “Want some more?”

You nod instantly, begging him to satisfy your cravings.

“Please… I just want you to fuck me.”

Your whining brings a smile to Jungkook’s face.

“I think I can do that.”

Your small SUV starts to rock as soon as he starts thrusting. The music playing through the stereo sets the tone, fueling his determination to ruin you in broad daylisght. He really didn’t think this through. There’s more room in his truck, but Jungkook didn’t have a second to spare. He’s on his lunch break too so this has to be quick so he can make it back to work in time.

Your moans become a little too loud so he leans in and conceals them with a kiss. It’s a gentle gesture, but it only makes you want more. As if he can get any closer, you tug on his strands to bring him closer, pushing his black beanie off of his head in the process. It falls on the car’s floor and becomes another random item tucked underneath your seat. Maybe one day you’ll need it, maybe you won’t. Who cares? It’s yours now; he’s forgotten about it.

He only has one thing on his mind.

“Hug me, baby.”

You never hesitate to do anything he asks, so your legs wrap around his waist, and your arms envelop him in your embrace. He can feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. Your walls are snug around his dick, but the grip only brings pleasure. It won’t be long now. He suddenly remembers the timer on his phone and he looks at the floor to see where he is on time.

Five minutes. He only needs three.

He shifts to a slightly different angle to hit the spot he knows will take you to your highest peak. He doesn’t even care if someone can hear you at this point. He’s just focused on making you feel good.

“Fuck. Jungkook, I have to–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t worry about me. I’m right behind you.”

Jungkook can feel you clenching around him, bracing yourself for what you both know is coming. His back burns from the way your nails are piercing through his t-shirt, but he refuses to lose the momentum he’s created.

When your words start to make no sense and your eyes roll back is when he knows you’re coming undone. You cry his name as your cunt pulses around his stiffened cock. He can barely thrust properly because you’ve gotten so tight around him. He bites the sleeve of his shirt as he tries desperately to hold on until you’re satisfied.

The moment finally comes when you let out a relieved sigh, your body relaxing. Jungkook comes seconds later, allowing the tightened coil in his stomach to finally snap. He shudders above you while you stroke his hair, telling him how good he feels. He’d tell you how good you’re making him feel right now if he could form any thoughts. His cum spills inside the condom while he’s buried deep within you.

Jungkook gives himself 30 seconds to calm his heart rate but then jumps into action. He slips out of you and grabs some wipes out of your center console. He didn’t even have to ask you where to find anything to clean you up; something told him you’re just always prepared.

“Did you really miss me?”

He hears your small voice break the silence and he turns to your exhausted figure.

“Yeah, why do you think I’m here?”

“Pussy,” you snort.

Jungkook laughs.

“Alright, true. But that was after I saw you.”

He steals a kiss from your cheek while you’re slipping your pants on, making you squirm away and giggle. He’s never been so hooked on someone. Just seeing you smile is enough for him.

“I have to go if I’m going to be on time but come to my truck. I brought you some lunch,” he says, looking around to make sure he picked up his mess. Really he’s trying to spend every moment he can with you. Who knows how long you’ll avoid him this time.

“I think about you, you know.”

Jungkook pauses as he opens the door and turns to you. He nods.

“I sure hope so,” he replies. “Because you’re always on my mind.”

Before he can get caught up in your beautiful smile, he hops out and reaches for your hand.

“Come on. I gotta get going.”

“My car smells like you. I don’t wanna leave,” you pout.

Jungkook sighs and strokes your hand with his thumb. “Just come over later, alright? Just for a little while, kay?”

Excitement fills him up when you nod. He’d jump for joy if he didn’t know you’d tease him.

“Okay. I’ll come.”

But you never came. It was another week and a half before he saw you again.

He’s held your hand many times during sex, but this felt so different. He still remembers the electricity racing through his veins from the bit of contact. That’s why his smile keeps growing despite how unsure he’s feeling about this whole relationship.

11:22am You: So… You want it back? Gonna have to take it;)

11:22am Jungkook: I don’t want any smoke with you, love. It’s yours.

He wonders if you’ll wear it or just toss it somewhere. It doesn’t matter. He just wants you to have it for reasons he isn’t even sure of.

11:23am You: Smells like you. Yup, she’s a keeper.

Jungkook scoffs.

“So are you, love,” he whispers.

He just hopes you even want to be.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfics #jungkook fanfics #thekpopuniverse #btshoneyhive #kvanity #bangtansorciere #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #fic: hours #fic: keeps #sugakookitty

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murdocksdaughter · 1 year

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Drinks And The Dance Floor — Pablo Gavi

a/n: i promised this yesterday and let’s pretend i did post this yesterday, yeah? cool.

warning: mentions of clubbing, drinking, and suggestive themes

word count: 1.7k

The club alive tonight, with music playing so loud you could feel the thumping of the beat in your chest. People danced passionately, cheered loudly, and drank like no tomorrow. y/n was enthralled by it all.

Watching from the booth in the corner she sipped her second vodka. She scanned the club enjoying the view of people losing themselves to the beat of the music. Highly entertained by the crowd of people she took another sip of her drink before having her gaze drift to the bar.

That’s when she saw him from across the club sitting at the bar, alone. The Pablo Gavi just alone at the club bar. This had to be a scene straight out of a rom-com. She had half a mind to just leave him alone, let him enjoy his night in peace. Watch him from afar.

But where’s the fun in that and she came here to have fun. And tipsy confidence started to take over.

This is the golden boy of FC Barcelona, one of her favorite youngsters of this generation. She could watch him from afar whenever she wanted to but the chance to even speak to him may never come again. Downing the last of her vodka sprite, a game plan formed in her head. She shook her shoulders a bit and made her way across the club to the bar, a small smirk forming on her lip.

She leaned back on the counter at the empty spot next to him, her arms propped on the counter holding her weight.

“Hi.” she greets him, her smirk becoming a sweet smile.

“Hey.” He replies back short.

She looked behind her at the bar then back to Gavi, “Are you-”, before she could finish her sentence he cut her off.

“Yes, I’m Pablo Gavi.” his voice became increasingly more distant. The girl could only laugh, smiling wider.

“Oh no I was going to ask if I could buy you a drink. But it’s quite a pleasure to meet you, Pablo Gavi.”

Gavi looked taken aback. Girls fawn over him, come up to squealing his name, then squealing again when he speaks to him. But she just laughed off his name. Treated him like a regular guy. It intrigued him to say the least.

Leaning back on his chair he finally met her gaze to find soft eyes and a coy smile draw her lips. Gavi noted her outfit first, dressed in a simple cropped shirt that rested right above her belly button with wide sleeves and flared jeans. It was a simple outfit but complemented her shape well. Paired with the dismissiveness of his name and the air of confidence around her. It was alluring.

“You want to buy me a drink? ¿Por qué?” Gavi asked with a raised eyebrow.

y/n shrugged her shoulders. “¿Por qué no? Gives me an excuse to talk to a pretty guy sitting by himself. You’d do the same with any girl, sí?” she replied, her tone laced with flirtatious intentions.

Gavi felt his face flush and thanked god the club lights obscured the color. She called him pretty and it made him flustered. He quickly composed himself.

“Well what can I get, hermosa?” he asked, smiling playfully matching her flirtiness.

“Whatever you want, my treat sweetheart.” she replied, pushing herself off the counter and making her way to the bartender. Gavi followed after quickly catching her pace.

“Hola amigo,” he called out to the bartender, waving him down slightly.

“Hi, what can I get you two?” the bartender asked, throwing a towel over his shoulder.

“I’d like a beer, por favor?” the bartender nodded then looked to y/n gesturing for her to order.

“For me I’d like a sangria and two shots of tequila, and also can you add it to this card?” She pulled out her credit card from the back pocket of her pants and handed it to the man.

The bartender nodded, taking the card and walking off to fulfill their order.

“Two tequila shots?” Gavi asked, leaning on the counter.

All the girl could do was shrug with a sheepish smile. “One for the both of us, it’ll be harmless fun. Then we can continue our night however we like.” Gavi laughed lightly with his boyish smile painting his lips.

“One shot won’t hurt anyone I suppose.” He responded, his fingers nervously toying with each other.

y/n noticed his nervous tick and offered her hand to him. Gavi grabbed her hand intertwining their fingers. The gesture was small and seemed subconsciously done, as if it was second nature for her to reach out and calm someone.

It gave him a sense of ease. Although he enjoys his nights out being just like any eighteen year old, all eyes on him outside of the pitch made his stomach turn and his heart clenched in anxious unrest. But y/n didn’t skip a beat in sensing his discomfort and offered silent assurance.

Gavi looked to their hands then up and into the sea of people surrounding them.

“So what do you do for work? When you said your name earlier it was as if I was supposed to know you?” y/n’s question pulled his attention back to her. It was hard not to giggle at herself and her small ploy.

“I play for the football club here, F.C Barcelona. I’m a midfielder,” Gavi replied. He shifted his weight and looked at his surroundings feeling a sense of awkwardness rise in his chest.

‘Does she even know what that means? God Gavi you sound so arrogant. Dios mios!’ he thought to himself.

“So…um..what– heh uh what do you do for work? Do you live here in Barcelona or…?” he asked, stumbling over his words. y/n stifled a laugh, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand. She could tell he felt almost out of place at the moment and awkward.

“I’m here for a vacation but Barcelona is a gorgeous city. I’m enjoying my time here.” She replied and Gavi felt something sink in his chest. It was an odd sense of disappointment but he shook it off. He’s Pablo Gavi and this was just one girl. He’s talked to loads of girls, this one leaving at the end of the night never to be seen again won’t be the end of the world.

“A beer for you señor and for you señorita the sangria and the two tequila shots. Enjoy your night.” The bartender set down all the drinks and y/n’s credit card on the counter.

y/n grabbed her card and slipped it back into her pocket then grabbed her drinks. Gavi followed her actions and grabbed his beer and his shot of tequila. He raised his tequila shot up, “¡Salud!”

y/n raised her own up and touched it to Gavi’s “¡Salud!” she repeated cheerfully. Both down their shots quickly, y/n started coughing slightly due to the burn at the back of her throat.

Gavi giggled slightly, “Too strong?” he asked before sipping on his beer. She rolled her eyes playfully and waved him off.

“Don’t tease, tequila doesn’t go down easy all the time.” She replied, taking a large sip of her sangria. Gavi laughed again at her teasingly as he slipped an arm around her waist. y/n leaned into him, raising her eyebrow.

“That’s a bold move would you say Pablo,” she teased flirtatiously.

“No more than anything you’ve said to me,” he flirted back.

The two sipped on their drink and swayed together on the edges of the dance floor to the various songs that played loudly. They continued to talk, further acquainting themselves with each other. But tenison started to grow between them. The longer they spent in each other’s presence it became more than just simple flirtations.

Then the familiar melody of Shakira’s Chantaje started to play, despite being an older song people cheered when the song started. y/n looked to the dance floor before setting her drink down on the bar counter. She moved to slip out of his hold and moved to the dance floor.

“Where are you going?” Gavi grabbed her upper arm gent and leaned into her ear so she would hear his question clearly. y/n looked up at him with a playful smile.

“I’m going to dance,” She winked at him before slipping out into the crowd. Gavi watched her as made her way to the dance floor. The girl moved her body to the beat of music, her hands moving down the sides of her torso as she swayed her hips to the music.

Following the beat she lost herself to the song, subconsciously singing along to the lyrics. Gavi continued to watch her, his eyes traveling her body.

Then She turned her back to him, continuing to move her hips and move her hands up her body. Finishing off his beer he took a large sip throwing his head back then left the empty bottle on the counter. Gavi immediately made his way towards the dance floor.

As y/n turned around to face Gavi their gazes found one another. A coy smile painted her lips as she put a hand our beckoning Gavi to her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his chest.

“¿Por qué no bailamos juntos, hermosa?” He whispered against her jaw. His hands ghosted down her sides and rested on her hips.

y/n’s arms reached out to wrap around his neck. “Lovely idea, mi chico bonito.” she replied. Gavi smiled and started to follow the movements of her body. They danced together, their foreheads pressed together as and eyes looked at one another.

Gavi’s hands traveled back up body to her waist. He squeezed it as he leaned into the base of her neck to kiss it gently. y/n turned around his grasps and pressed her back against his chest. Her hips grinding back on him and head thrown back onto his shoulder. Eyes gazing into his and a coy smile drawn on her lips.

“Don’t play with me,” Gavi grumbled into her ear. She only laughed and brought up a hand to cup the back of his neck. Holding him closer to her body, his breath fanning on her neck.

y/n sooned closed her eyes and placed her free hand over his that was resting on her waist. They continued to dance with each other for a few more songs. Their bodies continue to grind against each other. Hand roaming each other’s bodies and whispering desperate flirtations.

Then y/n pulled away from Gavi’s grasp abruptly.

“Well it’s been a pleasure Pablo Gavi, but unfortunately I think it’s my time to go.” her hand dragged down his chest before she made her way through the crowd, disappearing from Gavi’s sight.

~~~

2nd a/n: part 2 with smut maybe?? idk tell me if you y’all want one :)

tags: @osferthsgf @footballerficsposts

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi imagines #pablo gavi oneshot #fc barcelona #fc barca #fc barcelona imagines #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi x y/n

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sarahwroteathing · 7 months

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Project Amaranth (4)

[Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Word Count: 2268

Summary: Bucky and Sam move you to a new safe house.

Warnings: None

A/N: AH sorry, my loves. I had class tonight and didn't notice that the post didn't go through when it was supposed to. Nice to know that my queue still only works half the time. Reliably unreliable. Anyway! Happy Halloween!

Catch up here!

"How does he already look mad?" Sam sighed as the car cleared the last bend in the long, heavily forested road to Steve's house.

He was waiting on the porch, leaning on the rail with crossed arms and a displeased expression as he watched them approach up the gravel drive.

"His face got stuck that way when he was eight years old. Try not to take it personally," Bucky said mildly, smirking at the snort it elicited from Sam.

"Alright, I'll go talk to him. Let him know what's going on before we spring his new roommate on him"

"He's not going to say no," Bucky said, glancing at you where you sat in the backseat, hands tightly clenched in your lap.

"I know, but we still need to give him a chance to."

Sam put the car in park, pausing for a moment to meet your eyes in the rearview mirror.

"One way or another, we'll figure this out. We've never been good at giving up on people. You okay with me telling Steve everything you've shared with us so far?"

The corner of your mouth tugged down, but you nodded.

"Okay. I assume you two need to talk too. Bucky, I'll text you when we're ready for you. But take all the time you need."

With one last nod that seemed more for his own benefit than for yours or Bucky's, Sam climbed out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. You watched in silence as he approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder and drawing him into a brief hug before gesturing him inside. Steve glanced towards the car curiously, but made no show of protest, disappearing into the house and closing the door behind them.

"You didn't warn him," you said quietly. "About me. He doesn't know I'm here or what you're going to ask him to do."

Though your words had a ring of accusation, your voice was flat, emotionless. He knew it well. It never meant anything good.

With a bracing breath, Bucky unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, moving quickly to join you in the backseat before you could jump to any dangerous conclusions. You looked a little startled by his sudden closeness, but you tried to hide it, scooting a couple inches away from him while masking it as a change in position. Your shoulder pressed firmly against the door, but you didn't reach for the handle, watching him closely.

"We didn't tell him because we didn't want to risk anyone else finding out. Sam called to tell him we were visiting, and that was enough to let him know something was going on without tipping off anyone who might have been listening."

You pursed your lips, turning your head slightly to scan the surrounding trees while keeping Bucky in your peripheral.

"I thought you said he was your best friend. Do best friends not visit each other?"

Bucky smiled a little.

"I visit. I just never ask."

Your eyes returned to his as you gave a speculative hum.

"And Sam Wilson?"

"Sets up visits at least a week in advance."

"He sounds like a better friend."

"He might be. But Steve's known me too long to give up on me now. He's always happy to see us anyway."

The small smile you'd been sporting slipped a little.

"Not this time."

"He's just worried. He'll get over it. I just want to make sure you're still okay with this plan before we go inside."

"Well, I don't have a better one, so..." You sighed. "Nothing can be worse than where I was before."

"Come on now. The couch wasn't that bad."

Bucky smiled when his comment shocked a laugh out of you. Fleeting and confused, but a laugh nonetheless.

"That's - That's not what I - "

"I know," Bucky said with a shrug. "But it made you smile for a second."

You stared at him, something strange passing through your eyes. He thought you may have been about to speak, but the chirping of his phone had you receding again behind a stoic mask.

Sam, telling him they were ready.

“You alright?”

You nodded.

“I trust Steve with my life,” he reminded you quietly. “He’ll always try to do the right thing. He won’t hurt you.”

“What if I hurt him?”

“Do you want to?”

“No, of course not,” you said quietly, frowning down at your hands.

“Then you won’t,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“That simple?” you scoffed, but Bucky stayed steady, nodding slowly.

“This time? Yeah, I think it is.”

You broke eye contact again to tug restlessly at the neckline of your borrowed sweatshirt.

“Ready?”

“I guess.”

Bucky slipped out of the backseat, holding the door open for you as you followed. Neither of you spoke as you approached the front door, the crunch of gravel beneath your boots softening to a nearly silent step on the porch. He couldn’t tell whether it was intentional or instinct.

Sam and Steve were sitting on the couch when the two of you walked in, but Steve stood slowly as you came into view. You held position one step behind Bucky and half a step to the right.

“Hi,” Steve said with a gentle smile, keeping his hands shoved deep in his pockets to curb the habit of a polite handshake. “I’m Steve.”

You gave an uneasy nod, face tense and blank like you were unsure how to act or what to say in this situation.

“I know we’ve just met, but I’m really glad you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, head tilting to the side in question as your eyes darted to Bucky and back to Steve again. Steve wasn’t smiling anymore, eyes solemn and projecting that 110% sincerity that only he could pull off.

“Whatever happened before and whatever Hydra did to you, I hope you know that you didn’t deserve this.”

You blinked hard, faltering a shuffled step backwards. Bucky stepped in smoothly before the overwhelm could shift to panic.

“Does this mean she can stay here with you?” he asked.

“Of course. As long as she needs.”

Bucky glanced over to you, and though you still looked slightly dazed you nodded your acceptance.

“Okay. Her stuff is in the car. Give me a hand with it.”

The sharp clap he landed to Steve’s shoulder left no room for argument, and you lingered uncomfortably in the hall as Steve followed Bucky outside.

“You’re going to need to ease up a little, pal,” Bucky said softly as they trailed down the porch steps.

The sun had already set, but full dark had not yet descended. Between the gaps in the trees, the clouds were clinging to the last of their fiery glow.

“I just wanted her to know where I stand,” Steve said, holding out his hands obligingly as Bucky reached into the backseat for your borrowed duffle bag and the two heavy backpacks from the bunker.

“I get that, but you can’t treat her the same way you treated me when you found me again. Even when I could barely remember you, I still loved you. Like muscle memory. It made things easier. But if you try to talk to her about her feelings, she might punch you.”

“Give me a little credit,” Steve said, accepting the duffle and choosing not to comment when Bucky kept a tight hold on both backpacks. “I wasn’t going to start with that.”

“I mean it. Go easy.”

Something shifted in Steve’s eyes at the severe expression Bucky leveled him with.

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll give her space. I’m not trying to scare her off, Buck.”

“I know you wouldn’t mean to. But your heart's too big for your own good, and that can be… a lot. For people who aren’t used to it.”

Steve nodded slowly, a smile starting to creep up the corner of his mouth.

“What did Sam call it again?”

“Aggressive compassion.”

“Yep that’s the one,” Steve said with a snort. “I’ll try to tone it down for now. No promises.”

When they reentered the cabin, Sam had managed to convince you to sit on the couch with him. You still looked uncomfortable, but you seemed to be making a concentrated effort to push through it.

Bucky surrendered custody of the backpacks to you immediately, and as you started to tuck them between your feet and the couch, Steve spoke up.

“Let me show you where you’ll be staying. So you have somewhere safe to keep those.”

You looked up at him, fingers tensing slightly around the straps before you nodded.

“Okay.”

The guest bedroom Steve led you too was the same room Bucky always stayed in when he visited. He’d probably spent more time here than he had in his own apartment bedroom. It was small but clean, the queen bed in the center was crisply made and covered with a plush green duvet. There was only room for one bedside table, equipped with a small lamp, a candle, and an unopened box of tissues. There were two extra phone chargers in the drawer.

Steve set your duffle bag down on the foot of the bed.

“It’s not much, but I hope you’ll be comfortable. There’s a fan and an electric blanket in the closet if you get too warm or too cold…” he trailed off, looking around the room for inspiration before shrugging. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know. The bathroom is across the hall, and it’s just for you. I use a different one.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“You’re welcome. We’ll give you some space to unpack. Look around.”

You nodded absently, already opening the closet and shoving the two backpacks into the back corner. Steve didn’t comment, leading Bucky back out to the living room in pensive silence.

“Everything good?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Steve said. “How long does she need to stay for? What’s the plan?”

Sam looked pointedly at Bucky who rolled his eyes.

“We’re working on it.”

“Working on it…” Steve repeated, his face carefully neutral.

“I’ve been focusing on getting her somewhere safe,” Bucky said, crossing his arms defensively. “I haven’t had time to think much farther than that.”

“Okay…” Steve said quietly, but the slight strain lurking behind the calm facade made Sam snort.

“I think you’re breaking his brain.”

“He’s done plenty without a plan before,” Bucky argued.

Steve hummed noncommittally.

“Having no plan is better than having a bad plan.”

Sam obligingly switched sides, hearing the frustration in Bucky’s voice. This was intensely personal for him. He was terrified of fucking it up.

“Give us a couple weeks. We’ll come by again and figure things out,” Sam said, standing from the couch.

“Okay,” Steve agreed, accepting the handshake-turned-hug Sam offered.

“We should probably go. Let you guys get settled,” Sam said, turning towards Bucky. “You ready?”

Bucky glanced back towards the door of the guest room.

“I’ll meet you at the car. I wanna…” He gestured vaguely at the hallway, and Sam shot him a significant look.

“This was your idea, you know.”

“I know. I’m not - I just want to check on her before we leave.”

“You told me you’d be cool about this.”

“And I am. But I wanna see where her head’s at.”

Sam sighed.

“Alright. Five minutes.”

“Or what? You’re gonna leave me here?” Bucky asked skeptically.

“No. But I am gonna talk to you about boundaries and countertransference all the way back home.”

“Fine. Five minutes,” Bucky said with a grimace, waving Sam towards the front door.

Steve shot Bucky a curious look that he pretended not to notice before following Sam.

You were sitting on the bed when Bucky entered the room, looking around the small space with the frown of a lost child. You glanced up at the sound of his boots on the old hardwood, but your expression did not change.

“Are you going to be okay here?” he asked, resisting the urge to close the door behind him. Sam and Steve would be outside by now. “You feel comfortable?”

You tilted your head curiously, gave a little shrug.

“I’m fine. Better than the alternatives.”

“So you’ll stay?” he asked carefully. “You’re not going to run?”

“For now, I will stay,” you confirmed.

Bucky studied you for a moment, the way you always studied him. You sat still, patiently allowing his gaze to linger without comment. You looked sincere, as far as he could tell. Nervous but not quite restless. He had no way of knowing how long your resolve would last, but for the moment it seemed that you at least wanted to stay.

“Could you tell me if that changes? Please?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. Not anger. Focus.

“You’re worried,” you said softly, and Bucky took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“Tell me why?”

He bit his lip absently. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he wasn’t sure how much of the truth to share. How much would make you feel safe. How much would make you run.

“I want to help you, but I’m not sure I’m doing it right,” he said finally.

You sat with that for a moment, never taking your eyes off him.

“I’m not in chains,” you said. “I’m free to walk away when I want to. That’s what you told me.”

“Yeah.”

“If you weren’t helping me the right way, I would leave.”

“That’s… true.”

“It is,” you said insistently, standing to move a little closer to him.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “So… good, for now?”

“Good. For now.”

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

I've been missing this one - what about you? How are ya feeling? What are we thinking?

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @orangespocks @multifandomgirl-us @creideamhgradochas @buckybarneshairpullingkink @rebekahdawkins @xxbuckysbxx

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfiction

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hippolotamus · 5 months

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Thanks for the tags @jesuisici33 @disasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 and anyone who tagged me for Sunday 🥰 It's not quite Tuesday yet, but I'm excited and not sure when I'll be able to post tomorrow.

IDK if anyone else remembers this WIP from... a while ago, but, uh, may I present pole dancer!Buck, with a hint of baby gay!Eddie. This was formed from one too many listens to T Swift's Mirrorball, which came up on the playlist tonight and demanded I work on this. Tomorrow it's back to a WIP I should be working on (she says as if logic is useful here).

From behind the sparkling, glittery curtain, designed to mimic a shimmering night sky, Buck extends one leg toward the stage. The warm, hazy spotlight envelops the exposed skin, from mid-calf to his toes, positioned in a perfect demi point. If only Maddie’s old ballet instructor could see him now. She always fussed that he was all leg and no balance. Take that Mrs. Lahn. Cheers and whistles from the Saturday night crowd add to the warmth, reaching, caressing, pulling at him. The regulars and newcomers alike know what’s coming, what to expect. Buck has become somewhat of a local celebrity, drawing patrons – and business – away from other clubs on the nights he performs. He knows what they’re waiting for and his body hums with the anticipation of providing it, of pleasing and being worthy of their praise. The emcee finishes Buck’s introduction and the opening beat of his music begins to play. A rhythmic snare drum that momentarily slices through the floaty feeling already encasing him. The disruption lasts only as long as it takes to slip past the curtain and emerge on the stage. A switch flips in his head, reminding him he’s on. Any remaining traces of Buck fall away, left backstage in a heap just like his civilian clothes and makeup case in the dressing room. The only person left now is an alter ego who is fluid, confident, sensual. An unforgettable presence for the next five minutes and forty seven seconds. He’s barely reached the twenty second mark before he notices. Before he connects with dark eyes and a piercing stare. The same one that’s been growing more intense in the weeks since the man first took up residence at a high top table in the last row. Gradually shifting from hesitant but curious to devastatingly certain, as if something slotted into place. Buck’s vision narrows to that single point of focus even though he should be periodically scanning the crowd. The dancers are never supposed to appear as if they’re playing favorites. Like they aren’t equally enthusiastic about each and every warm-bodied potential tip in the room. Even if they’re personally responsible for a spike in revenue, like Buck and one or two others. He figures he can save his charms for when he’s working the floor. It’ll be easier then to slip on the other mask that makes every lap dance feel exclusive, like he’s not doing the same for anyone else with enough cash.

no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @911onabc @apothecarose @barbiediaz @buckaroosheart @buddierights @chaosandwolves @elvensorceress @eowon @fionaswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jamespearce9-1-1 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @loserdiaz @messyhairdiaz @monsterrae1 @singlethread @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @thekristen999 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @underwater-ninja-13 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @wikiangela @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend and anyone else who wants to share 😘

#pole dancer!buck #baby gay!eddie #listen to mirrorball and tell me it's not buck coded #also please don't ask what i'm doing #idk dude #hippo writes #mirrorball fic #can't believe i forgot about this on my list of WIPs #fic: watch my shattered edges glisten

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rallamajoop · 9 months

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Lab Photos and Documents from Resident Evils 7 & 8

Near the end of both Resis 7 and 8, the player character gets to explore a laboratory full of significant documents and interesting photos, textured and angled such that it’s very hard to get a good screencap. So here’s a huge dump of all the relevant image assets I could find to extract from both game files (plus some rambling about everything that got recycled between them, because spot-the-reused-asset is still my favourite game right now).

Photos from Lucas' lab in Resident Evil 7

The photo of Mia with Eveline in front of the tanker can be found at the end of the Mia video tape, though it also shows up again in Lucas' other lab in the Not A Hero DLC. That DLC also throws in a few new photos of Lucas' creations.

And moving on a game...

Photos from Miranda's Lab in Resident Evil 8

(Apologies for the long post above the cut, but tumblr doesn't seem to let you tile images below a 'Read more', unfortunately.)

What’s interesting is that most do seem to be legitimate photos of the characters’ real-life face models, not just renders of their 3D game models. Whether the human models themselves posed for these or whether their likeness was simply photoshopped onto scenes composed without them I haven’t been able to find out (though the latter seems more likely to me, given that most face models don't even seem to have known what character their likeness would be used for). Either way, there’s an eerie realism to these that doesn’t occur in many other parts of the game, and it’s effective in its own uncanny way.

Since both games refer to the same research at the same lab, it's probably reasonable that some of RE8 photos are just slightly-adjusted copies of those from RE7 ‒ those two shots of Eveline in the lab most obviously. And we're probably just supposed to politely ignore how obviously Miranda's just been selectively edited into that original pic of Eveline with the scientists. *cough*

In fact, if you look closely, even that big group photo of Eveline with the research team and transport operatives has actually patched in both Mia and Eveline from that earlier photo of them standing in front of the tanker. In fact, Alan (Mia's partner in RE7) isn't even from a photo at all: that's a drawing from a piece concept art (no wonder they've got him standing at the back!) As a minor role who appeared in no photos in RE7, I assume they just didn't have any good shots of his face model available.

I'm a little suspicious even Miranda's face in the group shot has been edited in from one of her other photos, but the match isn't quite perfect enough for me to be sure.

Even that photo of the needle going into the egg and the developing foetus isn't new: you can see the same needle shot in some of the RE7 documents, and even the foetus development series gets an angled scan-over in the RE7 ending sequence.

Mind you, some of those "photos of Eveline" may actually not be Eveline herself ‒ text on them in the lab itself suggests they're photos of other members of the E-series, sacrificed during necrotoxin tests. Which makes it rather odd that the figure in the second photo is an adult man who looks nothing like Eveline, so I can only assume some wires got crossed somewhere in the dev team.

(Also odd: the suggestion that there were multiple E-series subjects, some of whom were put down for experimental purposes, even though Eveline herself is labeled E-001. But let's not pretend RE lore has ever been super-consistent at the best of times.)

RE8's "lab photos" also include a couple of shots of a man in snow gear who's apparently Spencer of Umbrella-fame, presumably for all those fans who don't feel it's a proper Resident Evil game if there's not an Umbrella in it somewhere. They're both about as rough as that one piece of concept art of Alan, so I'm guessing whoever created them was about as invested in that topic as I am.

Somewhat more interesting to me are the two shots of Miranda with babies. The second obvious Eveline, but the first is presumably of Miranda with Eva, way back in 1920 or so ‒ demonstrating nothing so much much as that in a full 100 years, Miranda hasn't even slightly changed how she does her eyebrows. /s

#Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil 7 #Mia Winters #Eveline #Mother Miranda #RE assets #reused assets #RE lore #meta

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kryptiq-kreachur · 19 days

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Do you have tips on uploading trad art to tumblr and not having it look scuffed as all hell 😭😭😭 your art looks great pls share your secrets

Aaaa, thank you! I actually decided to shift my focus back to traditional art very recently and it means a lot to hear that ;; I hope this helps you and anyone else with similar questions!!

So I have two methods that I usually rely on when capturing my traditional art. The first one is kind of limited, but it is faster and more accessible. For these demonstrations, I'm going to use a colored sketch of my OC, Brinley. Step One: Taking Your Photo! All you'll need for the first method is your phone. What you want to do first is to find an area with nice, even lighting- the less warm, the less you'll have to correct later, so the closer to daylight, the better. In fact, using the light outside is a great way to capture your art! Note: If you are in a place with very cool lighting you will also have to correct the colors, but in my experience, cooler light is easier to work with. Position your artwork so it's illuminated with the light source directly in front of you. If it is behind you, it will be harder to get your shadow out of the shot. The spot I was in had my light source behind me, so my arm covered it a bit.

I repositioned myself to a spot with the light source in front of me instead, and I was able to get a nicer shot.

Keep your phone as level as possible over your drawing, and as close as possible without your phone going out of focus.

And now the first step is done! Step Two: Editing Your Photo! This is where everything starts to come together! Firstly, crop your drawing to your preference. I try to keep the negative space around my art as even as possible. IPhones have a handy feature where you can choose an even aspect ratio, so that will help keep things simpler if you want. Next, all you have to do is mess with the settings until you get it how you want it to look. Filters can help it to look more cohesive. I like to keep the art close by me to reference so I can get it to look as close to real life as possible. Note: black and white art is the easiest to edit due to the high contrast. Finished! Congrats! Your art is ready to post! Here's what my sketch looked like after I added a vivid filter and then messed with the settings.

The second method can be a bit more difficult, but the results always look better than just taking a photo. What you'll need is a computer (I think you can also use an ipad- any device will work as long as it can connect to the scanner), a scanner and any art/photo editing software. Step One: Scanning! The scanner I use is technically used for office work, but can be used to scan photos, therefore the quality is very much in the middle. There are scanners that are used purely for scanning high quality images of art and photography that will produce much better results on the initial scan, but this works just fine! There are also stores and other places where you can scan your work even if you don't own a scanner. First, make sure your art is as flat as possible and in the middle of the scanning bed. It doesn't have to be perfectly straight as it can be edited later, but if it isn't flat or it's on the edge of the bed, it will end up blurry in some areas or completely cut off. After that, go to your device and set the resolution to at least 300 dpi to guarantee a high quality scan, and then begin. This is what my sketch looked like after the initial scan.

Now we can move onto the next step! Step Two: Editing! You may have noticed that the colors are very washed out- scanners that aren't optimized for art and photos tend to do this, but with some editing, it'll look great! After opening it in CSP and selecting a canvas size, it's ready to edit! Note: Opening the image directly will automatically set the document's dpi to 72. Idk if that's a constant for other programs, but this means the overall image quality will be very low, so the picture has to be imported into a higher quality document with dpi set to 300 manually. I usually just copy and paste it into another document. Level correction is your friend! That's the correction layer I use the most when editing and it does the most heavy lifting, usually. After that, I sometimes edit the saturation. Since this is a digital method, you can edit your drawing however you want! You can fix some mistakes this way, or completely change things. There were notes and a sketch next to this drawing that i didn't want, so i painted over them with white- since i edited the level correction to up the exposure, the painted areas are indistinguishable from the background. Finally, I add either a gradient map for cohesion or fiddle with the tone curve until I'm happy with the final product. Once again, I like to keep the original art next to me while I'm editing for reference. (And then after that I might add a noise filter or some other effect, LMAO) Finished!! And now you have your scanned art!

These are all the editing layers I used!

Like with anything, trial and error are very important! You'll get better at editing art over time, so don't be discouraged if it doesn't look like you wanted it to the first time. Thank you for the ask, bye!!!!!!!

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magnoliabutters · 1 year

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• DON'T LEAVE •

pairing: ellie williams x (she/her) reader

summary: ellie’s been your best friend for years… where are all these feelings coming from?

warnings: 18+, mdni, adult language; friends to lovers trope, jealousy, girl on girl smut, fingering, doggy style, all about them visuals, consent mentioned, pet names, etc.

word count: ~3.2k

reblogs for a happy & proud pride! 🌈

note: my contribution to pride! join me for a gay ass smut post each week ♥️ lmk if you have any requests! happy pride, lovelies! 🤍

The words don’t fall like they should anymore. Your friendship changed like a switch. You don’t know what happened. What forced this evolution. Suddenly, you see the twinkle in her grey eyes. The plumped pink of her lips. How her red, brown hair falls in little strands around her face.

Is it the string of lights that shine above? The heat of the bourbon reaching your cheeks? The laughter in the air? You could feel sweat, sweat forming at the base of your neck.

“Hey!” Ellie says, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Huh? Oh, hey,” you mumble, taking a deep breath as you try to recover from your thoughts. “You alright?” she asks with a smile. “Looks like you were off in space.”

You laugh, leaning back against the wood of the bar. Ellie takes a swig of her drink, scanning the crowd. Her eyes land upon a dark haired girl, who moves freely amongst the dance floor. Pain fills your torso, another unexpected and new sensation associated with your dear friend, Ellie.

With a clearing of your throat, you ask, “Thinkin’ you might need a wingwoman again?” She chuckles, biting her lip. Your pupils expand at the sight of her beauty. “Nah,” she smirks. “I think I got this one.” She pushes off the bar’s surface, making her way across the dance floor.

Words are exchanged. Both of them laughing, smiling, giggling. It hurt, but you weren’t sure why. To see Ellie’s hand placed at her hip. The way the brunette pushed a strand behind her ear. How close they were from each other’s faces.

Your legs are crossed at the ankles, but you can’t stop the wiggling of your feet. You keep pulling your eyes from them, but something always draws you back. And it just keeps hurting.

Twenty minutes have passed and your alcohol consumption has increased two-fold. You can feel the light headedness trickle to the top of your scalp. With a nod and a sniffle, you stand dizzily. Hellbent, you make your way to the front doors and back to your apartment. The liquor keeping you nice and warm in the Jackson cold.

A knock wakes you up from an unbearable nightmare. Your heart racing as your body has trouble discerning what is reality. “Common, open up,” a familiar voice appears with another sturdy knock. “Ellie?” you whisper to yourself. You rub your ears, successfully riding yourself of crusts from you sleep.

Slowly, you make your way to the door. Carefully, you step over the jeans you shed before falling face first into your mattress. With just a crack, you open the door to that grey eyed beauty. “What’s up, El?” you say in a grumbled voice. Ellie scoffs at the sight of such a small opening. Her head cocks to the side as eyebrows raise.

“What’s up with me? What’s up with you?” she laughs as she asks. “You’re the one who left in a hurry.” You shake your head, putting in a fake smile. “I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you say casually, but Ellie can see right through you.

“You gonna open up or do I have to ask?” she says with a nod to the door. “I think you’re probably gonna have to ask,” you taunt. She presses her tongue against her teeth, smiling as she does. “May I come in?” she says softly and with bouncing brows. “I guess,” you answer, opening the door.

Ellie rakes over you. Her eyes increasingly widening. Cheeks glowing red as she realizes you are in just a ratty t-shirt and panties. But you guys are just friends right? So it’s no big deal.

You sit on your bed, crossing your legs before her. You gesture for her to sit on the couch across the way. “So, um, why’d you end up leaving?” she asks as she sits down. Her eyes anywhere and everywhere but your legs. “I wasn’t having fun anymore so I just went home,” you answer with a shrug.

Ellie smiles, clearing detecting your bullshit. “Oh okay, so it had nothing to do with me dancing with Dina?” she leads. “Oh, Dina? That’s her name?” you say with a humph. “Pretty.” She laughs, enough where she fully leans back against the couch. Her happiness is incredible to witness.

“See, that’s funny,” she says with a tightened smirk. “What’s funny about that?” you ask with a monotone. Your face flat as you await her response. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?” she says, leaning her elbows against her knees as she grows closer.

Your heart rate spikes as the distance between you two becomes smaller. You involuntarily pull back, tensing your body. Erratically, you answer, “I just - I couldn’t see you two anymore.” A breath of relief falls from your lips, as though a large weight has been ripped from your shoulders. But just as empty space was provided, another overwhelming feeling was slotted in.

Ellie shakes her head. Her brows push together as she tries to understand. “Wait, what do you mean?” she asks. Her eyes sincere as they peer into yours. You wish she could just read your mind. So that the words would never fall from your mouth.

You could not risk it. Risk losing your closest friends. The only thing that’s been pushing you to get up in the morning in this cruel, cruel world. You can’t risk it.

Before you realize it, a tear falls down your cheek. Ellie’s brown furrow further as her hand reaches to brush away the tear. “What’s going on?” she asks with full sincerity. She lands upon her knees before you as her hands softly rest atop your thighs.

With a deep, shaking breath, you whisper, “I don’t know when. I don’t know how, but I fell in love with you, Ellie.” The tears now continuous as they well against your lashes.

Despite the blurred vision, you watch as Ellie’s face moves from shock to joy. You could not imagine how it had something to do with you. How you could have caused such a beautiful sight. Your smile matches hers in a way that felt absolutely right.

Ellie’s hardened hand slowly raises to your face. Her warm palm presses against your cheek. It feels as though it should stay right there for all eternity. She straightens in her stance. Her eyes flicking between yours and your lips. A tightness pulls at your chest as you struggle to keep a steady breath.

She leans in and all the air leaves the room. You stay still, so very still. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you,” she whispers. Her mouth only a mere inch or two from yours. Another harsh breath and your hand wraps behind her head. You pull her in, as her lips crash against yours.

She tastes like the sweetness of an apple. Her hands reaching around your waist. Both your eyes shut tight. The warmth of her touch feels incredible. Feels as though they should always be there. They should always stay right there.

Before you could second guess yourself, your fingers intertwine within her auburn hair. They guide her towards you. Both of your feet stumble against each other as you kick your front door closed. With a smile, her teeth drag against your bottom lip.

You pull away with the largest smirk you have ever mustered. Ellie’s green eyes stare into you. They start at the top of your head and down to your body. The body you have caught her looking at every so often. A glance always met with hot, reddened cheeks and excitement within your breast.

Slowly, you step backwards. Your hands reach the bottom trim of your shirt. With one swoop, you stand bare chested before your best “friend.” Another few steps back and you realize she has begun to follow you. You land gently back against your bed. Your legs cross as you watch her stalk up to you. A predator and prey. You cannot wait to be devoured.

The hot, pink cheeks are now hers. Ellie’s eyes brighten as she licks her lips. “What are you doing?” she asks slowly and calmly. A twinge of a smile to the side of her mouth. “I think you know,” you murmur. Your voice never having been so soft.

A scoff falls as she takes that final step towards you. Her knee budges against your outer thigh. You oblige her indirect request by slowly uncrossing your legs. She slides between your thighs as though she’s done it millions of times.

Ever so slowly, her hands land on both sides of your waist. She leans closely into you. Her smell gradually becomes something you desire. Without a single thought, your palm rests lightly against her cheek. Your thumb tracing over her strawberry freckles.

Again, her apple tasting lips press sweetly against yours. Both your bodies fall back against the mattress. Her legs still between your thighs. You could feel her hot breath against your bottom lip.

Fingers dig deeper into skin as her waist meets yours. You could feel her grinding against you. Your mind struggles to discern between reality and fantasy. Maybe you were dreaming? Maybe you went right to sleep after the Tipsy Bison. Whatever it may be, you were going to take full advantage of loving on her.

Ellie’s hand slowly makes it way to the front of your pants. The cloth of her shirt is harsh against your hardened nipples. She tucks her chin in so she can see the button and zipper at your waistline. Almost as though she could not trust herself to do it without looking. It gave you a second to breathe as all your goosebumps tingle with anticipation.

You have heard stories, rumors of how good she is in bed. The words always stirred a fit of anger and jealousy within you. But how she touches you now, you know those stories to be true. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Exactly where to place her hands to make you squirm.

Her other hand slides up your sternum and reaches your neck. She presses a little weight against your throat, but ultimately finds her fingers playing with your nipple. Her lips make their way back to you. A tongue pressing against the threshold, begging for your consent.

Instantly, your tongues crash against each other. The hot and heavy touching making it harder and harder to catch a good breath. Her hands now rough as they squeeze harshly against your breasts. Your hand pulling those strands of hair entangled between your fingers.

“Fuck,” Ellie whispers between kisses as the heat rises within the room. “Turn over.” Her hands rest against your hip bones, pressing against them in preparation to flip you onto your stomach. Confusion pours over your face, but you trust her and follow her lead.

Your now unbutton jeans are pulled halfway down your ass. She tucks a finger underneath your black panties, tracing their edges until she lands a harsh grip against the meat of your cheek. You suck in a quick breath in response. The side of your face pressed heavily against your sheets as your ass rests high within the air.

Suddenly, Ellie tugs your pants down to your knees. The firmness of your jeans pins your legs together, leaving a perfect view of the wetness of your underwear. “Oh baby,” she softly says. Her thumb pressing lightly against the spot. She bites her lip as she feels the steamed wetness grow against her touch.

Your body screams for her, begging for her to be inside you. You can barely keep your mouth shut as you wait for her to take control. Her hands explore the soft, delicate touch of your ass. One slowly makes it way up your spine and collapses around the back of your neck.

Ellie leans her waist against yours again. You can feel the roughness of her pants against your sensitive skin. She presses softly against you at first, but each thrust becomes increasingly rougher. Harsh, quick exhales fall from your mouth as your clit craves more and more.

Finally, she curls her thing fingers into your panty line. They hook as they slowly pull your undies down. You rest, completely exposed before her - completely and utterly vulnerable to her desires. Just like you fantasized. “What are you going to do to me?” you ask sweetly.

A soft chuckle is heard behind you. A smile forms upon your face in response. “Shit,” she murmurs. “You are just going to have to wait and see.” A finger lands lightly against your clit before tracing its way down. She gathers your slick while exhaling shaky breaths. “God, you’re so wet for me, baby,” she whispers.

The sensation of her fingers makes your lower half weak. You struggle to keep your thighs from closing in on her hand, from keeping her right there. Her eyes are focused on your beauty below her. The heat between you two is undeniable. Your chin drops slightly as her finger dives deeper within your folds.

You can hear her breath. How it quickens any time she explores a new part of you. How her pupils expand and how she struggles to decide exactly what she should look at. She slowly falls to her knees. One hand now at your inner thigh. The other at your ankle, guiding you to rest upon your knees.

Ellie’s lips fall gently against your skin. The sweetness feels like pricks as your body screams at the sensation. You lean forward onto your elbows as you let out a strong breath. The coolness slides against your sternum, just before your head falls atop your shoulders.

A quiet, hum escapes her lips as her hands travel up your legs. Those warm, gentle hands. Finally, the reach the crook of where your hips and thighs meet. “God, you feel so good,” she murmurs as she leans her torso further against the mattress. Her kiss seeps against your delicate skin, enough that you gasp.

“Spread these legs for me,” Ellie says with a coo. You follow her instruction without delay. With closed eyes, you feel her lips press softly against the top of your slit. Your eyelids flutter. The kisses float up and down your sides. Your body screams for her. Your clit feels as though it may burst.

Her tongue ever so gently lathers your clit. The firm, wet touch drives you insane. Her hands’ grip tightens against your legs. With an open mouth, she kisses you again. Her tongue now fluttering against your bean as you struggle to maintain your breath.

“Oh fuck,” you accidentally let out. Your lower back conclaves as your ass raises to her touch. A soft bite of her teeth makes you giggle. You can feel a smile pressed against you. She pulls away, blowing cold air against your heat. Suddenly, you feel a finger beginning to press within. Your tight walls clench against her, clenching at each knuckle of her slim finger.

“Such a good girl,” Ellie murmurs against your wet cunt. “So tight.” You could hear a break in her voice, almost as though the words were hard to get out. Her finger begins to curl, twinkling against the bumps within. Your eyes roll as she immediately finds your g spot. In that moment, you knew she was better than any lover you had before.

Slowly, her second finger presses lightly against your hole. Within the slow movements of her thrust, the second finger slides in without difficulty. A gasping breath escapes you as your hands claw against the sheets. You cannot help the moans that fall from your lips as she straightens her back behind you. You feel her rough jeans pressing harshly against her hand and your ass as she grinds upon you.

Ellie’s other hand rests heavily against your hip as she leans her weight upon you. “God, fuck,” she grumbles as her thrusts increase in speed. Quickly, she pulls her hand from your skin to tug against her waistline. First at her right hip and then her other before her wet soaked panties press against your cheeks.

She lets out a moan that makes you feel as though the earth was shaking. You place your weight heavily against your elbows. Your forehead digging into the mattress as she returns her hand to your hip. Her short nails harsh against your skin.

Faster thrusts and you feel your legs begin to quiver. Her waist heavy as she pushes her fingers deeper within you. “You’re so close,” she mumbles as your walls tighten around her. Without a thought, you begin to back yourself into her. “Oh fuck, yes, just like that,” she whispers as she lets you choose the rhythm.

You bounce off of her fingers faster and faster. Both of your moans complimenting each other. You could have never imagined how beautiful and musical her groans of pleasure could be. You wish you could hear them every day of your life moving forward. “Oh, don’t stop,” she murmurs as her head hangs back off her shoulders.

Quicker and quicker. You can feel yourself just a thrust or two away. Your breathing heavy as you feel her fingers curl within you. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you let out in a squeaky voice. “A little bit longer,” she demands. “I’m almost there.”

Another harsh thrust and you feel the sweat against your forehead. The tight band in your stomach desperate to pop but you hold out. You hold out just for her. You listen as her breath intensifies behind you. Her fingers push deeper into your hip, leaving pink crescent moons that you plan to idolize.

Her thrusts become heavy as her words begin to slur. “Oh shit,” she rambles. “I’m cumming!” With excitement, your pushes backwards become quick. Her moaning peaks as her voice cracks and her thrusts soften. You reach euphoric levels as your walls tighten around her in pulses.

You feel white hot sensations across your body as you fall heavily against your arms. Ellie lands against you, but falls beside you. Both your breaths heavied. Her eyes closed as she struggles to catch her breath. You twist onto your side.

Your palm returning to its rightful place at her cheek. A string pulls her smile to one side as a dimple arises. Those eyes finally open to reveal the gray emeralds beneath. She turns her head into place a sweet peck against your palm before cupping the back of your hand.

“That was new,” you whisper with a sheepish grin. “I like new,” Ellie says as she leans up upon her elbow. She turns to you and places a sweet appled kiss against your lips. “I like you,” she whispers. An involuntary panic rips at your chest at the thought of her saying her goodbyes.

Despite your typical independence, you plead, “Don’t leave.” Your mouth just a few inches away from her incredible face. “Never,” Ellie reassures, placing another peck against you. She curls your arm around you, guiding your head to your chest. Her chin is softly placed against your forehead. An abundance of comfort and safety rests between you both before you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

note: i hope you enjoyed my smutty slutty story! i'm hoping to write more over the course of pride month for my fellow gays out there <3 please leave a comment and/or reblog if you enjoyed the read! also open to feedback if it doesn't make me cry!

please have a happy and safe pride, loves!

• nav • no-no plagiarism • one shot • collection of pride pairings • requests open •

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #tlou #the last of us #tlou 2 #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou2 #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x dina #ellie tlou #pride #lesbian #lesbian pride #gay smut

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starkstruck27 · 1 year

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One last little mermay fic because it's the last day and I thought it would be cute (also I may be posting on June 1st technically, but I wrote the bulk of it yesterday so...).

Steve hadn't been working at the aquarium for long, but he loved every second of it. He'd moved out to California a while ago and he'd been down on his luck when Dustin came out one time to visit, all jazzed up about marine life, since it was his latest obsession, and he'd suckered him into a trip to the place before he left again for Hawkins. Steve had never had much interest in undersea life before, but as Dustin dragged him through the exhibits, he found himself in awe of all the beautiful creatures. At the end of their tour, he was buying Dustin a souvenir in the gift shop, when a large "Help Wanted!" sign caught his eye.

"That, uh, that sign," he asked the girl who was scanning the barcode on Dustin's stuffed seahorse and new San Diego Aquarium cap, "Is that just for the gift shop or is it the aquarium in general?"

"No, it's for the whole place. We are looking for a few people to be cashiers in here and the food court, but we're also looking for tour guides and trainers. The trainers have to have some kind of prior experience working with animals though, so just keep that in mind. Would you like an application?" She asked, her smile bright as she handed the younger boy the bag.

"Yes, please," Steve smiled back, and the girl handed him a small packet of papers fill out before smiling and greeting the next customer.

By the time they left, Steve had already returned the packet, completely filled out, to the right box, and two days later, he got a call to come in for an interview. He went, and an hour later, walked out with a job as a tour guide and a date to come in for his first day of training.

By now, nearly two months later, he knew the ins and outs of the entire place, and he could spit facts about sharks or jellyfish or anemone or sea cucumbers like he was listing the days of the week. He was one of the favorites among the tour groups, since he often made stupid dad jokes and gave out aquatic themed stickers to the kids. It was a hands-on aquarium, and a lot of the parents liked the gentle encouragements he would give their kids if they were scared to touch a certain animal, and the kind ways he would explain how to do it properly so as not to hurt the animals so that everything went smoothly. He was often handed tips from appreciative parents, and even though he always tried to refuse them, they always insisted he take them for helping their young kids to have such a positive experience. His fridge in his apartment was running out of room on the front of it from the amount of drawings kids would do for him, and he had made a note to get himself a little scrapbook or binder or something to keep them in so that he didn't have to throw them away to make room for new ones.

So yeah, Steve absolutely loved his job.

And when his boss pulled him aside one day and said that he wanted him to be the one to help launch the newest attraction on May 1st, he was more than happy to do it. He was just supposed to lead the families into the amphitheater that faced the biggest tank in the aquarium and get them pumped up to see some kind of show involving mermaids. He had no idea what it was or how it was going to work, but he was excited to do it, so he did.

Finally, May 1st rolled around and Steve was about to do his first presentation for a packed theater. He scrounged up some of the old confidence he'd had in high school and put on a huge smile as he walked out in front of the tank with his notes, quieting the families and greeting them before asking if they were ready to see some mermaids.

That's what the whole thing was about. It was supposed to be like that one attraction in Weeki Wachee, Florida, where they had the actresses that dressed up like mermaids and entertained families in while swimming under water. It was pretty much the same as that, but while the actors and actresses were swimming around, Steve was supposed to give a presentation on some fun facts about mermaids and then, at the very end, the families would get to pose for pictures with the actors while they were still in the tank. They were going to be going down with air nozzles from oxygen tanks in their hands, so that they could make cool bubble effects, but also so they could still breathe as they were underwater. It was actually really cool, in Steve's opinion, and he was excited to be giving the presentation.

"Okay, so as long as you're ready to meet our merpeople, we have to try and call to them so that they'll come out to see us. Merpeople are king of shy, so we have to be really loud when we call their names, okay? We have a lot of merpeople here at our aquarium, but the ones you're going to see today are named Pearl and Nero, so on the count of three, we're all going to say really loudly 'Hi, Pearl and Nero!', okay?" Steve said as he continued his opening, smiling wide along with a lot of the kids. They all nodded as he counted to three, and they shouted out for the two actors, and they swam over from where they'd dropped into the tank, somewhere off to the side where the audience wouldn't see them going in.

The first 'mermaid', a girl with curly dark hair and tan skin, swam over, wearing a bright red shell bra and a shimmering red tail that caught the light beautifully. She pretended to be shy as she swam over, but she smiled as a manta ray came up to her, and she pet it gently as the kids all oohed and aahed.

"Everybody, this is Pearl," Steve said, gesturing at the tank, and the actress waved back at the audience, flicking her tail as she swam all around and did little tricks. She could hold her breath for an incredible amount of time, only having to use the breathing tube thing once or twice in the past couple of minutes.

"Now, Pearl is a little bit more brave than our other merman, so we have to call out for him again to get him to come out, okay?" Steve said, and the kids all called out for the guy again. The actress in the water even gestured over to someone with her hand as she swam around and played with the fish and other creatures in the tank with her. Finally, the kids all cheered as another actor swam over, looking more timid as he did.

"Everybody, this is Nero," Steve said, and he gestured at the tank, almost forgetting his next bit in the script when he saw the man. He had blonde hair that flowed around his face in ringlets. He had a tiny hint of a mustache on his top lip and the most striking blue eyes Steve had ever seen. His tail was also blue, probably to match his eyes, and as he waved to the audience and smiled, Steve nearly fainted. He was muscular, but not overly so, and his arms looked strong and sturdy, much like the rest of him. And his smile was bright enough to light up the entire ocean if he wanted to.

Steve made himself refocus on his presentation as the actors played under the water, swimming around and playing with both each other and the creatures in the tank with them. They interacted with the crowd as Steve gave his presentation, doing certain motions to go along with the fun facts Steve was spouting, and just seeming to have fun with it. Steve was too, once he got over the initial shock of that gorgeous man swimming around behind him, and when the presentation was over, he both happy and sad about it. The next show was going to be done by another one of his coworkers, and two other actors would be playing the merpeople, so Steve decided to head back to where he knew the actors would be taking their breaks to see if he could get a chance to talk to the guy.

He found him and the other girl laughing backstage as they ate lunch and gossiped, and he was almost afraid to go in and talk to them. They both had towels wrapped around their heads to keep their long, wet hair out of the way as they ate, and they both still had their tails on, since they had one more show to do before they got to leave for the day.

"Oh, speak of the devil," the girl said to the guy, and she gestured to the door that Steve was standing at, smiling widely. "You're our presenter, right? We were just talking about you. You did a great job hyping up the kids for us. Although, your jokes were absolutely terrible. I'm Heather."

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm Steve," the man said, walking further into the room with them and tucking some hair behind his ears nervously. "Sorry to interrupt, I just figured that I should probably introduce myself to you guys at some point since we'll be doing a lot of shows together. And I wanted to compliment you on your performance, it was really, really cool. I don't know how you can hold your breath for that long and keep your eyes open underwater and still to all those tricks and stuff. It was just really amazing."

"Thanks," Heather replied, taking another bite of her sandwich, "And to tell you the truth, it's really nothing special. Just lots and lots of practice."

"And the oxygen tanks help a lot," the man said, the first time he'd spoken since Steve first entered the room. He didn't seem like he'd be a quiet person, but Steve figured that maybe he just didn't really like new people. He could understand that. Still, he'd hoped that maybe he'd have more to say than just that. Heather seemed to notice this, because she looked between them for a second, rolled her eyes at the man, and then reached down to unzip a part of her tail and stick her feet out so that she could shuffle off into another part of the room, saying something about needing to use the bathroom and leaving the two alone.

"I meant what I said," Steve said, stepping closer to the other man, "Your performance was really good. I've never seen so many happy kids in one room before. And you didn't even seem like an actor half the time there. You actually seemed like you lived in the water for real. And I'll tell you, you got a set of balls on you, too. I'd never have the courage to swim straight up to a hammerhead and just start petting it like you did."

"Thank you," the man finally cracked a smile as a cute little blush rose to his cheeks. "Yeah, I've always loved the ocean and anything having to do with it. And normally, I wouldn't have the balls to swim right up to a shark, but we keep them pretty well fed here, so I had nothing to worry about. But still, thanks for the compliments." The man paused again, setting down his sandwich, wiping his hands on a napkin, and training those striking blue eyes on Steve while he stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Billy."

Steve shook his hand, and he could feel his own face lighting up with a smile.

"Nice to meet you," he said, his heart fluttering when the other man's face finally broke into a full grin.

"Likewise," he said, and they began to slip into a more casual conversation as Heather returned and she and Billy finished their lunches and got ready for the next performance. Steve would have to leave soon to get his microphone and his notes sheet again, but he stayed for as long as he could, quickly becoming friends with the two actors and making a few plans to make their next show an even bigger hit than the last one was. Finally, it was just a few minutes before Steve would have to start welcoming families back into the theater, and Billy went off somewhere to do one last thing before the show.

"Oh, and hey Steve, I have a quick question for you," Heather said, just before he left.

"Yeah?" Steve asked, stopping just short of the doorway.

"Can I get your number?" She asked, thrusting a napkin and pen into his hands. "It's not for me, though, it's for Billy. Y'know, just in case you were wondering. He nearly choked in the tank earlier when he first saw you through the glass, however blurry. And he said you had a nice voice. But he's too much of a wimp to ask you himself, so write a corny little note and leave him your number so that I don't have to hear about how out of his league you are for the next fifty years, because he will complain for that long."

Steve was taken aback at first, but he was flattered, and he liked the other guy, too, so he decided, why the heck not? He scribbled down a note and his phone number quickly, then high-tailed it out of the room to be in the theater for his cue, just as Billy came back over.

"Steve asked me to give this to you," Heather grinned like a shark, handing him the note. Billy took it, puzzled, and almost missed his own cue to get in the water as he read and reread it to make sure it sunk in.

Steve left him his number. And a terrible dad joke, but mostly his number, and said he wanted to go out with him sometime. He'd said he wanted to be 'part of his world', and as much as the pun made Billy roll his eyes, he couldn't help but find it cute. He could definitely arrange that. But first, he had to get back in the water, and hopefully nobody would notice as he stared at Steve's ass through the glass.

And if they did, he could just pass it off as a merman curious about how the humans walked around on their two large fins.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove x steve harrington #mermay #ficlet #meet cute #merman!billy

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the-hyperfixation-station223 · 7 months

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This isn't that au I was talking about in a previous post, it is more or less what I think happend when omza went to save Dorothy from that tower in langwidre's caslte

(Pre relationship Dorzma, or atleast that was the intention)

Dorothy awoke on the uncomfortable ‘bed’ in the northern tower she had been locked in, sighing heavily when she was lucid enough to realize the previous events were no bad dream.

“Can't be helped.” she thought to herself.

She got off the bed and looked to the endtrace of the cell she was in, the lack of food tray made her assume it was before breakfast.

That or Langwidre had yet to send her breakfast. Oh well, at least she had eaten well the day before. She ought to survive a few skipped meals.

But for how long?

She shook off that unpleasant thought- the princess wanted her head, and what good is the head of a dead person?

“Besides,” she remembered, “ Uncle Henry told me it would take about a month with no food at all to starve to death.”

Assuring herself that she wouldn't die of starvation, she decided to occupy her mind with other things. Unfortunately the bit of chalk she had found & drawn on the walls with last night was nothing more than a nub, perhaps she’d be able to request another one from the maids next time they come by.

She looked to the window,

“May as well see what the rest of Ev looks like.” she thought as she went up to it. It was just high enough for her to see without using her tiptoes, she could cimb onto the windowsill if she pleased. But the widows were barred too close together for her to squeeze out of, and she was very high up.

“Its not as high up compared to most modern buildings,” she mused, “Yet- wouldn't survive that fall. If the Scarecrow were here he’d be able to break the fall like he did in that porcelain country, or perhaps Lion could use his claws to scale down the towerside…” she sighed heavily, missing her old friends dearly.

“I wonder what they’re up to right now, I do hope they’re doing better than I am.”

She shook her head, it cant be helped.

She looked out over the kingdom of Ev, of to her side she could see the ocean she and Billena had washed from.

And a little speck she assumed was the chicken coup they had floated in for who knows how long.

She sighed, she could even see a distant approximation of where she had met TikTok. She remorsefully ran her hand over the key in her pocket.

“I wonder if his thought has ran down yet.”

She scanned the surrounding country, she had a very good view from where she was. If she was in a better situation she’d enjoy getting to observe a whole new fairy land.

Her eyes landed on a vast desert with nothing living on it.

“That must be the dessert separating me from Oz.” she sighed, resting her chin on the window.

Oz, that's where she wished she was. Or with Uncle Henry, the poor man must think she’s drowned by now. She’d give up this potential adventure in a heartbeat just to be in either place.

“But- I have no cyclones or magic shoes. I’ll just have to make do till I figure something out.” she reminded herself, taking in a big breath and re-instilling her confidence.

“You've killed two witches, albeit accidentally, and survived just about every awful thing life has thrown at you so far,” she told herself, “You’ll make it out of this, though, it may take quite a lot of time- given you're alone…”

She looked behind her, to the drawings from last night, they were of her family back at home, the farm, and what she remembered of her adventure in Oz. The adventure itself was crystal clear to her but- some of the faces of her friends had been blurred by time.

She couldn't quite remember if it was Tinman’s left or right that The Wizard had placed his new ‘heart’ into. Or which of Lion’s ears that had been clipped by some unknown event. Or if Scarecrow’s hat tilted in front of his face or away from it.

It was eerily similar to her memories of her parents, did her father have a scar on the left side of his face- or the right. Was it her mom that always had her hair in braids, like Dorothy has now, or was that something she made up?

But, like with her parents, she’d be able to recognize any of them in an instant, that she knew for certain. She couldn't forget either of them if she wanted to.

Not that she’d ever would of course.

“Would trading my head take my memories with it?” she wondered for a second before shaking it off.

“No, you are not going to trade your head, so its useless wondering what would happen if you did.”

She turned her eyes back to the lifeless dessert.

“Though, you have little to no chance of getting any help from your old friends with that lifeless desert in the way-”

The sentence in her mind stopped short when she saw something, something was stirring in the desert. But how?

“If only I had a spyglass!” she thought as she anxiously squinted- trying to make out some type of shape.

“What could that be?” she wondered aloud.

She didn't have to wait very long to get an answer.

Within seconds she could make out a chariot shape, and the figures of some type of army.

She felt an ounce of hope in her, “Did my friends somehow learn of my imprisonment?” she wondered as she strained to get a career look at who was driving the chariot.

Soon the magnificent chariot came into focus, not enough to make out the driver's face- though it appeared to be a girl around her age, but she could make out the form of a large Lion.

The ounce of hope grew to a pint.

The Lion was side by side with a large Tiger, both were carrying the chariot over a green carpet that unfurled in front of them. Shielding them all from the deadly sands.

Beside the chariot Dorothy saw two forms, one was straw stuffed- with painted features, wearing blue munchkin clothing, and was riding on what appeared to be a wooden horse.

The pint became a gallon.

The other, shiny tin, with an ax over his shoulder, and his funnel hat tipped over his ear as if it were a hat.

The gallon overflowed. She couldn't help but bounce on her heels.

“It's them! It's them!” she clasped her hands together,

“I'm as good as rescued! I'm as good as home!”

She crawled onto the windowsill and watched her friends, the girl and Tiger- who she did not recognize, and the army of unknown soldiers behind them, excitedly as they approached.

It took a while, reasonably so- Ev was a rather large kingdom with quite a few curious residents, but eventually they arrived below the castle.

Dorothy waved her arm and called out,

“Hey!”

They didn't seem to hear her, perhaps she wasn't loud enough? Or they weren’t close enough.

The Scarecrow got off the wooden horse and approached the trick sign on the castle.

“Hey, I'm here! Here’s Dorothy!” She was half tempted to throw one of her shoes down, but the straw man heard her.

“Dorothy?” he said, initially looking around him.

“Up here! I'm up here!” she had to wipe a few tears of excitement and relief from her face.

The familiar painted face of the scarecrow looked up, it was a ways down- so details weren't too clear, but she could see he had been repainted since the last time she’d seen him.

“Dorothy Gale?!” He asked, painted eyes squinting.

“Yes!”

The Tinman, Lion, Tiger, Mystery girl, and all the soldiers looked up. She could see the Tinman and Lion’s faces smile at her as the soldiers muttered to one another.

“What are you doing in there?” The Lion asked.

“And are you ok?” The Tinman asked, concerned.

“Nothing and No!” she called down, “I'm a prisoner in here, please get me down.”

“We’ll do just that little friend, who are you a prisoner of?” Scarecrow asked.

“That Princess Langwidre, she wants me to trade my head for one of her old ones. And locked me up when I said I’d do no such thing. She’s got a horrifying temper.” Dorothy explained. The Mystery girl spoke up, her voice was pleasant, loud, and clear as a bell.

“I do not blame you, I have business with Langwidre but I shall have you free’d before any of that is to be discussed.” she said.

“Oh,” Dorothy was a little surprised, the girl looked of high importance- from what Dorothy could see she was wearing a beautiful gown, had long dark-brown coils laying perfectly down her shoulders, and had a gold ringlet with poppies on the sides. Then she remembered The Wizard had left the Scarecrow in charge of Oz- and this girl appeared to be his friend. Of course she’d want to rescue her.

“Thank you very much!”

“Just sit tight Dorothy, you’ll be down as fast as we can get you.” the Tinman assured her. Dorothy gave a nod and carefully slid down from her spot on the windowsill.

“Oh no-” she remembered. “Don't listen to the sigh! Its a trick! The real door is on the right!” she called down.

“Thank you!” Scarecrow called up to her. Dorothy stood at the window and watched them walk off and out of sight.

She was so excited to see her old friends again, and that new person- Dorothy couldn't see much of the mysterious girl driving the chariot of gold and emeralds, but anyone who was friends with her old comrades was worth trusting.

She remembered how elegant and put together the girl looked, and became very aware of her outfit.

“Oh dear.” she bit her thumbnail as she saw how water stained and dirty her clothes were. ”Well, I was stranded in the ocean, then a beach, and then a prison cell. I have no real control over how I look right now.”

But what she did have control of was her hair. She heard some distant shouting, Langwidre had met her old friends, which means they were on their way to see her.

Which means she didn't have long to put herself together. Aunt Em always said it was important to make good impressions on strangers- she had no control on her impressions of her old friends, but she had some control here.

Quickly she took the ribbons out of her braids, and finger brushed her unwashed, blond hair. Once she had gotten most of the dried sea salt out of it she braided them back into their ropes and tied the bow’s back on.

She heard footsteps, only three sets thought- too heavy to be Scarecrow, not metallic enough to be Tinman, and she assumed Langwidre wouldn't let Lion this far up in her castle. Mayhaps her friends were waiting just outside the tower and some of Langwidre’s maids were going to take her to them?

She had hardly gotten her second ribbon tied when she got her answer.

“Here’s the girl, very rude mind you- thought I did have No.17 on. That one tends to be offended by almost everything. I really do need a warning sign on that one.” Langwidre was rambling as one of her maids opened the door, behind her was the Mysterious girl.

Dorothy was now very aware of how unkempt she looked- and the addition of one un-bowed ribbon in her hair did not help.

“Well I must get back to my Mirror room- I’ll meet you there when you wish to discuss saving my Aunt and Cousins.” Langwidre snapped her fingers, her and her maid walked away and left the two girls in the unlocked tower cell.

Pretty didn't begin to describe the girl.

Her gown appeared to be green silk with a shimmering train behind her. The poppies on her circlet looked as if they were living, and knowing Oz, they most likely were. It sat elegantly on her river of dark brown coils, that flowed down her shoulders, framing her face perfectly.

And her face, Dorothy had never seen a girl look this pretty without makeup, and she hardly saw any make up last time she was in Oz. Apart from casual lipstick and blush.

She had large black eyes set into her round face. Her brown skin was clear, without a single blemish, and reminded Dorothy of some of the doll’s that were too expensive for her family to buy.

She swore she could see freckles, slightly darker than the girl’s skin, scattered across her face. They weren't too different from Dorothy’s freckles- though she had many more, years working in the sun dose that to a person.

Actually- there was one ‘imperfection’ on the girl’s face, a scar on her chin. As if she had fallen down and injured herself as a child. But the scar somehow added to the charm the girl already possessed.

Dorothy realized only a few seconds had passed, and the girl was now looking at her with a gentle expression. Before Dorothy could do or say anything, the girl walked towards her and- entirely to Dorothy’s surprise, kneeled.

“It's a pleasure to meet you Dorthy, Hero of Oz, and slayer of the wicked witches.” the girl said in a soft voice, just as pleasant and clear as when she was several feet below her window.

Dorthy felt her face warm, and was glad she had some dirt covering it. She quickly tried to hide the unfinished hair bow behind her shoulder as the girl rose.

“I am Princess Ozma of Oz.”

Princess Ozma, the one TikTok had told her about.

That explained why she looked so elegant.

It took her a few moments to get her thoughts straight, embarrassed that she looked this unkempt in front of royalty.

In embarrassment and sudden pressure to be propper, she completely forgot proper etiquette and stuck her hand out- as if to shake Ozma’s.

“It's nice to meet you too Princess, my friend TikTok told me about you.” she said, words falling out of her mouth before she could think of them too much.

“Dorothy, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to shake princess hands when you meet them!” she said in her head, yet her expression remained a polite- if a little nervous, smile.

Ozma smiled back and took Dorothy’s hand. Dorothy had expected a princess’s hand to be soft, but Ozma’s hand was almost more calloused than hers were.

They shook hands as Dorothy remembered she was meant to curtsy, and did a half curtsy as she shook the princess's hand.

Ozma’s nose scrunched in amusement before she laughed. Like her voice, her laugh was pleasant and pretty.

“I'm glad I finally got to meet you. I've heard about you since your first visit in Oz, I'm from the gillikins country in the north.” Ozma said, still holding on to Dorothy’s hand.

“That's where the good witch who kissed my head is from isnt it?”

“Yes, you have a very high reputation there, as well as all of Oz. Reasonably so for all you've done for it.”

“I would have been able to do any of that stuff without my friends.” Dorothy fidgeted with the loose strands at the ends of her braid. “And I killed both of those witches by accident. I'm glad it ended up being good but It wasn't planned- at least the witch of the east wasn't. My house really did just fall on her- I had no control of that.”

Ozma nodded.

“Speaking of your old house, it's now a monument to you.”

“Oh is it?” Dorothy asked, becoming embarrassed again. “Tell the munchkins I appreciate it, even if it's a bit much- I'm still just a simple farm girl.”

Ozma tilted her head, never dropping her smile, and a strange look of empathy coated her features.

“I was too once, well- kinda anyhow.”

“Hm?” Dorothy tilted her head in confusion.

“I promise to explain later, but right now I need to talk to Langwidre, and I believe your old friends would like to see you.” Ozma looked at the drawings Dorothy had made, “and I believe you’d like to see them.”

Dorothy nodded her head and the two walked out the door.

They walked, hand in hand, as Dorothy looked the Princess over again.

When she first saw her, she thought she was pretty- like a painting or glass doll. But after that short conversation with her, she seemed more- real, Human. Or Gillikin in her case, Dorothy still wasn't too sure what the difference between a munchkin, gillikin, quadling, or winkie and a human was. Apart from coming from Oz that is.

But she felt drawn to Ozma, drawn in a way that felt- possible. Realistic. Ozma went from appearing like a painting come to life, to another human. Who happened to be very pretty.

She could tell she was going to get along with her, and was excited to hear about how a Princess of Oz got such calluses on her hands.

They walked into the drawing room, just as Scarecrow, TikTok, and Tinman were discussing something.

She dropped Ozma’s hand and ran towards her friends.

“Dorothy!” Tinman and Scarecrow exclaimed as Dorothy hugged the Scarecrow, trying her best not to crumply his straw stuffed body.

Thanks for reading, I posted this on my a03 account: TheHyperfixationStation032

#oz #wizard of oz #dorothy gale #ozma #black ozma #princess ozma #tinman #scarecrow #lion #fanfic #my writting #pre relationship #Dorzma #this was 100% just for fun #& self indulgent #first fanfic #first fanfic that ive posted that is

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shreddheir · 1 year

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This is going to be fairly long, and also much more serious than my usual jjba meta. apologies in advance if i seem stilted: i have some issues with verbalizing things in a formal matter

Terunosuke Miyamoto's fate and portrayal are another egregious example of the subconscious bias present in Araki's work.

When I mention how Terunosuke was one of two characters to be given a fate worse than death in part 4, that he was the only p4 character to be nameless until years after the manga was completed, or that his fate was arguably undeserved, i am not saying anything new.

But I feel like not many people consider or realize that Terunosuke is canonically the only dark-skinned character in all of diamond is unbreakable.

Not only that, he is somewhat implied to be a foreigner in the manga (i cannot find a scan with a translation, but the canned drink he destroys is notably labeled as fruit lassi and it has a small drawing of an indian elephant on it).

In a part set in Japan, the only dark-skinned character, a character who is also implied to not be Japanese:

-is one of the few villains deemed irredeemable.

-is portrayed as uniquely sadistic, manipulative, and predatory, even when his actions are less or equally malicious than the actions of other characters. He kidnapped people and took hostages, but so did rohan. He threatened Josuke's family, but so did akira, and josuke was perfectly content with letting akira go to jail regularly.

-in fact, his crimes, crimes which are not unique among the cast of DIU, are deemed by Josuke to be as horrific as angelo's crimes, which were in fact uniquely horrible among the cast of diu.

-is given no characterization or motivation outside of sadism, to the point where he had no name for a good couple of years.

-is never mentioned or shown in canon again, which happens to few other DIU characters. Not even in the added davidpro epilogue scenes, which show other characters that were previously MIA after their respective arcs (such as toyohiro).

In fact, Davidpro actually makes his portrayal WORSE, all because of one small detail.

When his cover is shown onscreen, there's a small sticker on it that says, verbatim, "Morioh Public Library." Josuke hasn’t been to the library at that point. I may be reading in too deep, but the implication is that this sticker is part of his “body” and can’t be removed.

Terunosuke is the only dark skinned character in diamond is unbreakable, and the last proper shot of him is an image of him being..basically branded. It’s hard for this to not leave a bad taste in one’s mouth.

I do not think araki or davidpro were being intentionally malicious or bigoted in their handling of Terunosuke. The meaning of subconscious bias is that it is subconscious, so i do not think the enigma boy arc or terunosuke in general were written in bad faith .

However, the racism, colorism, and xenophobia that saturate his role in the story (to be a disposable and irredeemable villain who is only meant to be another obstacle in the face of our golden-hearted hero ) and his fate (to be literally dehumanized and locked away, never to be seen again, presumably for the "safety and greater good of morioh") are very clear.

Anti-discourse disclaimer fine text:

i am not trying to cancel jjba, diu, araki, davidpro, or any related concepts and parties, and i am not trying to make claims about the personal beliefs or agendas of hirohiko araki or members of david productions in any way, shape, or form. i am just writing about subconscious bias and how it possibly shaped a story arc in diu. i am not trying to give moral judgement to araki, davidpro, or any fans of jjba in this post. i am not trying to stop the collective you from enjoying things, just trying to inform. also, racism, xenophobia and colorism are bad. I edited this post due to quoting something based on an unofficial and incorrect translation and making a hypocritical point in the concluding paragraph.

#terunosuke miyamoto #jjba meta #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure diamond is unbreakable #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba diu #diu #diamond is unbreakable #racism ment #ask to tag #meta #fandom meta

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indeedcaptain · 2 months

Text

Regulatory Relations, chapter 16: The Admiral

Hello everyone I hope you are doing well and happy April!

Wahoo, this story broke 100,000 words with this chapter! That's an insane number to think about.

Chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence :)

Also posted on AO3 here!

☆☆☆

Kirk materialized on a dusty, paved track in the center of what could charitably be described as the middle of nowhere. He coughed as Spock and April materialized beside him, and they moved out of the way as the security teams appeared, one after the other.

The area of Kindinos VI that they transported to was near colorless, infinite shades of gray-brown stretching to the staggering mountains breaking the near horizon. The star that served as the center of this solar system was a pale yellow dot in a pale gray sky, and though the climate could not be classified as cold, Kirk wasn’t sure he would consider it warm, either.

It was a profoundly unfriendly planet, and as he looked around, he noted uneasily that there was no sign of the miners that had called for their aid. The land around them was uneven but for the paved road leading to the mountain to the east, rising and falling sharply in a pattern like moguls on a ski slope. The security officers unholstered their phasers, setting them to stun and creating a periphery around April, Kirk, and Spock, and the only sound except their footsteps was the familiar humming of Spock’s tricorder.

Spock frowned slightly down at the screen as he turned slowly in a circle, scanning in every direction.

“Where are we, Mr. Spock?”

“It seems as though we are in the middle of the settlement, captain,” Spock said, and he lifted his eyes from the tricorder screen to look over the rolling micro-hills of the land before them.

“But where is it?”

Spock glanced over his shoulder at Kirk, and Kirk nodded before he approached one of the hills warily. Two security officers flanked him as Kirk and April followed a few steps behind, and Spock crouched next to the crest of the hill.

He reached out and yanked on something set into the ground, and stepped back as a hatch swung open, revealing a dark hole in the ground. He looked around him curiously, and stomped his foot: the sound his heel made against the ground revealed that he was standing not on hard-packed earth, but dust-coated plex. Gesturing to one of the security officers, who pulled a flashlight from his belt and flicked it on, Spock and the officer crouched again next to the open hatch and peered down into the darkness.

The other security officers broke off in groups of three and four, knocking on the other hatches set into the ground and pulling them open. Kirk came up behind Spock and leaned over his shoulder. The security officer--- a young human woman called Jackson--- shone the flashlight down into the hole. Buried beneath the ground was a self-contained unit, two meters by two meters, within which rested a single bed, a small desk, and shelving built into the walls approximating a kitchenette and bathroom. The bed was unmade, and a single, empty aluminum cup sat on the table. Lieutenant Jackson shone the flashlight around the border of the space, and the shaky light revealed that pieces of paper or plex had been stuck to the walls.

“Hold there,” Kirk said softly, and Jackson held the light steady on one of the pieces of paper. It was slightly yellowed, a little dusty, but it showed a simplistic drawing of a house, with two big stick figures and three small stick figures drawn in front of it. Kirk’s heart sank. Someone’s child had drawn them this picture, and they had taken it to this job with them, and kept it where they could see it at all times. He glanced at Spock, who scanned the little room with his tricorder but met his eyes.

“They may be in the mine itself, captain,” Spock said, and he and Jackson stood. Kirk straightened as well.

“Did you get any life signs? From any of these little bunkers?”

“Uncertain, captain. The scanner was unable to penetrate whatever matter makes up the soil of this planet. But my readings show a larger shelter just beyond our sightline,” Spock said, and indicated westward, in the opposite direction of the highest peak of the mountain range. “A larger domicile, or perhaps a central gathering place.”

“Alright,” Kirk said, and with a gesture recalled the drifting security teams back to his side. “We’ll split into three. Spock, April, and I will head to the larger building, see if anyone is there. Team A, open as many of these hatches as you can and search for anyone within who may be in need of acute medical assistance. Close them up when you’re done, though, no need to let the dust into these people’s things. Team B, head to the entrance to the mine and see if there are survivors there.” His people nodded around him.

“Remember, we don’t want to come in with accusations. We’re just here to check everything over because the comms went down. We’re here to help. Check in with the ship every---”

Tickatickatickatick. Kirk stopped as the noise echoed into earshot, drifting towards them over the dusty plain. Jackson turned over her shoulder, looking in the direction of the mountains, but nothing seemed to have changed. The ticking noise grew louder, and Spock started off suddenly towards the central road they had originally landed on. They followed Spock as he strode purposefully onto the road, and then scuffed at the dirt with his boot.

The dust cleared easily away, revealing a magnetic track set into the earth. He looked up, along the road, as a metal cart rolled into view from beyond the curve of the road, where the rise and fall of the bunker-hills had hidden it. Slowly it tickatickaticked down the road, hovering above the metal strip, the rotating magnets set into the cart itself scraping and shifting as it pulled itself along. Kirk and the away team watched as it trundled on its way, empty but for the dirt that had settled into the grooves of it, and passed them to continue through the wasteland.

“Perhaps the larger building is a storage location for the dilithium before it is shipped out,” Spock said quietly, as he watched the cart disappear around another bend.

“Maybe,” Kirk said, and when the cart had vanished from view he turned back to the away team. “Check in with us or the ship every thirty minutes. Dismissed.” The officers nodded, and team A peeled off to open hatches as team B started down the long and desolate road.

“Terrible day for a walk,” Kirk said as he, Spock, and April turned the other direction, towards where the other building waited for them. The wind had picked up around them, tossing the fine dirt in every direction, and there wasn’t a single tree to break the power of the gusts.

“I believe that they will be able ‘hitch a ride,’ as you might say,” Spock said, and they had only taken a few more steps when the tickatickatick began again. The cart lurched towards them once more, returning down its path from the mine to wherever its dropoff station might be and back again. They stepped aside to let it pass.

“I hope they catch it,” Kirk said. “No use walking if there’s a perfectly good cart going that way anyway.” He turned back to their road and continued down it. “What do you think of all this, Admiral?”

April walked alongside him, dark eyes scanning the horizon around them. “I don’t like that we haven’t seen a single person,” he said, and he gently palmed his phaser. “Alive or dead.” Kirk hummed in agreement, and Spock followed the two of them a few paces behind, sweeping from standing between him and April to fanning out beside him. The Spock rule, Kirk thought with a jolt. He hadn’t seen it in action since he learned its name. Spock had always hovered on away missions, orbiting him, but he had never thought anything of it until it had been brought to his attention. He smiled at his pacing husband before returning his attention to the road, and to April. When was the last time he had been on an away mission, had to make life-or-death split-second decisions? His hand on his weapon was making Kirk nervous.

They walked for another twenty minutes before a huge, unnatural curve broke the flat horizon. It rose up before them as they approached; it was a building made out of the same material and in the same design that the hatches and the bunkers were, but it stood twenty feet tall and double that wide. Kirk turned back to look over his shoulder, and then look around him.

“Mr. Spock,” he said quietly, returning his attention to the building. “Is there anything approaching this size, anywhere else within tricorder range?”

Spock turned slowly, scanning in every direction, before he shook his head. Kirk took in the shape of the building, the positioning of its details: there was a small rectangular door set dead center, with what looked like opaque windows alongside it, with a second row of windows higher above.

“This doesn’t look like a community center to me,” Kirk said, and Spock met his eyes as he spoke. “It looks like a house.” Spock considered it, as April’s breath left his lungs harshly. Kirk looked over his shoulder again at all the tiny, one-room bunkers, and looked back at the comparatively enormous structure. “Admiral, why did you call Dextrum’s owner unpleasant?”

April had pulled his phaser out, holding it loosely in both hands down in front of him, and he gazed over the building in front of them with a curl to his lip. “He’s a criminal ten times over, but we haven’t been able to pin him with anything. Then he showed up with proof that the government of Kindinos II sold him this planet, because they couldn’t be bothered to mine the dilithium themselves, and he badgered us into the worst deal we’ve ever cut just because he caught us at a bad time and we needed the dilithium for the new ships. He’s brash, and arrogant, and I have been waiting for something like this to happen for a year now.”

There was only one person that Kirk could think of who could possibly have made such a name for himself and pulled off such a ridiculous gambit, but there was no sense in focusing on that question now. “If I were a miner, doing the hard labor of pulling this rock out of the earth, and I live in a one-room hole in the ground and the big boss lives in a veritable mansion…” He trailed off, shaking his head. Spock’s hypothesis from the night before seemed more and more likely.

“Any signs of life inside, Spock?”

“None, captain.”

“We’re going in.” Kirk strode to the front door, Spock on his heels, and pulled the latch set into the metal of the door.

It swung open easily, revealing only darkness within. Spock flicked on the light set into his tricorder, and it shakily illuminated an entrance hallway with arches leading into other rooms on either side. Spock insinuated himself between Kirk and the doorway, and then crossed the threshold first. One hand floated towards his phaser, and the other held his tricorder light out. Kirk followed him in, and April brought up the rear. The hallway was garishly decorated, apparent even in the single weak light source. Enormous oil paintings of buxom women and exotic locales hung on every wall, and their footsteps were muffled by an oversized rug that stretched out into the darkness beyond them. Every step released a puff of the brown-gray dust that coated everything and the vibrant colors of the paintings were deadened by it. Spock turned curiously into one of the side rooms and aimed his light at the windows.

“I believe windows have been entirely coated by this dust,” Spock said.

“Cozy,” Kirk said, and he and Spock abandoned the room to continue deeper into the house. They passed two rooms with overstuffed couches built for lounging, and one with a dining room table and seats for twenty. The only place the dust had been disturbed was the head of the table, where one person had put a plate and glass and then removed them. April trailed behind them, peering dismissively at the evidence of a man who was unaccustomed to the hard life of living on an undeveloped planet.

Further in the house, there was a rickety metal staircase spiraling upwards, and the entrance to a kitchen.

“Choose your own adventure,” Kirk said, and peered upward into the darkness as Spock pointed their flashlight up into the second floor. April glanced up as well before he turned his head sharply, narrowing his eyes at the darkness hiding the details of the kitchen.

“Point that light over here, Mr. Spock,” he said, and Spock obliged. April gestured at the dust with his free hand. “Look at this--- it’s been disturbed more recently than the rest.” And so it was; there was a line in the fine, gritty dirt that was a slightly different color, as though something had been dragged across the floor and then the reclaiming dust had done its best to hide the evidence. The fine hairs on the back of Kirk’s neck stood at attention. He abandoned the staircase to follow Spock and April into the kitchen. Spock wielded the light as April followed the trail through the dust, ignoring the marble countertop of the island. But Kirk noted the island, and the expensive shine of the plates sitting in the open cabinets, and the heft of the ceramic utensil rest that he lifted off what looked like an induction stovetop. Someone had brought all the comforts of home to this mining town, and then had refused to share with his neighbors. Kirk banked the fire burning angrily in the pit of his stomach and turned to pay attention to Spock and April.

There was a door in the wall in the corner of the room, and April opened it as he raised his phaser. Kirk blinked, and for a moment Tommy looked over his shoulder at him as they both stared down into a cellar that smelled of death and rot, and then he blinked again. Tommy wasn’t there. April and Spock stood at the yawning threshold and stared down a set of untrustworthy-looking stairs that descended into pitch blackness. Kirk swallowed his sudden nausea and stepped up behind them.

“Cellar?”

“Perhaps,” Spock said, and he must have heard something in Kirk’s voice because without looking at him he reached back one hand with two fingers extended and stroked them along the side of Kirk’s useless hand before bringing it back to his tricorder. He aimed the little machine down the stairs and frowned. “But unlikely. This staircase leads down into a tunnel that extends further than a cellar or basement would.”

“How far?”

Spock looked back at him, liquid-dark eyes shining in the dim light. “At least two thousand meters beyond the boundary of this house.” The sense of unease that had dripped into his stomach at the disturbed dust intensified. He locked eyes with Spock, who gave one sharp nod, before he turned to April. “Admiral, I really appreciate you coming down here. But I don’t think the owner is still here, and I can’t guarantee your safety if we go underground.”

“Your concern is noted, captain, but I am going with you.” April’s tone brooked no argument, and his eyes were hard like flint. Kirk read his resolve in the lines of his face, and a level of apprehension that he didn’t understand, and he turned away from him and Spock to flip open his communicator.

“Captain Kirk to the Enterprise, come in, Enterprise.”

“I read you, captain, this is Enterprise.” Uhura’s voice came immediately, barely crackling over the comms.

“Checking in. We’re fine, but we’ve found something underground that needs looking at, so we’re going in. Any news from the other teams?”

“They called in just a few moments ago. Nothing yet, but they’re both fine.”

“Good, good. If we miss our check-in, ask Giotto to send another team down. We’re going beneath the big house.”

“Acknowledged, captain.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant. Kirk out.” He flipped his comm shut and turned to his companions. “Once more unto the breach, gentlemen?”

April exhaled heavily through his nose, the only sign he gave that he was tired of Kirk, and allowed Spock to cross through the doorway first with the flashlight before he followed down the stairs. Kirk brought up the rear, following the light bouncing down into the dark, and tried to remind himself that there would not be metallic blue sludge waiting for him at the bottom.

☆☆☆

There was no sludge at the bottom; only a long strip of the same magnetic rail that they had seen on the road outside, and dunes of the same dirt that coated everything along the sides of the tunnel. The tunnel itself was tall enough to stand up straight in, but not wide enough to walk shoulder to shoulder, and the walls were carved directly into the earth. Kirk frowned as he dragged one finger along them. The dirt was silken, easily malleable; he didn’t trust the structural integrity of their underground avenue.

Spock walked ahead with the flashlight, but every ten steps Kirk saw the whites of his eyes glint in the heavy dark as he glanced back, as if to assure himself that he had not lost Kirk to the black tunnel. April walked between them, phaser held in one hand, eyes trained on the horizon of Spock’s light ahead of them. They walked through the tunnel for fifteen minutes; long enough that Kirk was beginning to lose track of the minutes, and the monotony of the path was easing his nerves.

Then Spock halted, raising one hand in a symbol for them to stop behind him. He stood stock-still, head cocked slightly to turn one ear down the tunnel, and Kirk could see the tendons in his neck in shadowy relief as he listened.

April opened his mouth, half a syllable emerging, before Spock whispered, “Hush,” and Kirk saw his stance shift from vaguely curious to high alert. He turned back to them, dropping his voice so low that Kirk could barely hear him, and said, “I hear voices ahead. At least ten, possibly more.”

“The miners,” Kirk whispered back, and Spock nodded.

“I heard one say ‘dilithium.’” Kirk gestured for Spock to continue on carefully. He glanced at April as Spock faced forward again, and blinked. For half of one second, before the light shifted and the moment vanished, Kirk could have sworn that April’s face was drawn down with a profound sadness. But when April met his eyes, the expression was gone, as if it had never been.

April nodded, and they followed Spock further down the tunnel. They crept forward more carefully, placing their feet gently, and Kirk unholstered his phaser to set it to ‘stun’ and keep it in his hand. Spock drew his, holding his tricorder in one hand and the phaser in the other. The tunnel started to grow wider, and as they continued, Kirk’s less-sensitive human ears began to pick up voices from further down.

He leaned forward and tapped Spock’s shoulder to get his attention, and when he had it, he purposefully reholstered his weapon. He stood for a moment as Spock analyzed him, considering his decision, before he decreed it logical and put his own away as well. April watched both of them unhappily.

“We don’t want to create a problem where there isn’t one,” Kirk whispered as quietly as he could.

“I feel certain there is already a problem,” April whispered back, and he kept his out. Kirk glanced at it. He didn’t like it, but again he was outranked.

The tunnel continued to widen, and the far-off voices grew closer and louder, and once he was able to do so he stepped up to walk next to Spock. Spock glanced sideways at him, and adjusted himself so that he was just slightly in front of Kirk, his shoulder edged in front. April walked alongside them, his shoulders square, eyes sweeping ahead of them. The tunnel curved sideways, and as they rounded the edge, they saw something up ahead: light. Spock dimmed the tricorder’s little light and turned to April and Kirk.

“There is a group of people approximately sixty meters ahead,” he said lowly. “We ought to proceed with caution. We do not want to startle these people into believing that we are a threat.”

Kirk nodded, and they proceeded. Closer and closer they crept, until the murmuring voices coalesced into individual words---packing, and careful, and dilithium, and mine---and the light ahead grew brighter and brighter. Ten meters ahead Kirk saw a standalone light source--- quite similar to the ones that they kept on the Enterprise for when they needed to provide high visibility on a mission--- facing away from them. He pulled up into the last patch of shadow with Spock, clinging close to the wall for any cover it would provide.

“Alright,” he said, and turned to April to discuss their approach. But April stuck his phaser back into its holster and stepped ahead. “Admiral!”

April ignored him. The harsh industrial lighting gleamed off his bald head as he walked straight into the center of the cavern that yawned open in front of them.

Kirk hissed, “Admiral!” He glanced despairingly behind him, back into the safety of the dark tunnel, and froze. A shadowy figure emerged from behind them. Spock slid between Kirk and the figure, drawing his phaser in one subtle, fluid motion. Kirk drew his own, pressing his shoulder to Spock’s, turning sideways to cover their backs as his heartbeat picked up. From the corner of his eye he could see the shadow of movement of others along the perimeter of the cavern, circling them.

“The admiral,” he murmured to Spock, and he felt, more than he saw, Spock’s answering nod. No one had fired on April yet, or even acknowledged his appearance in the room, and he was looking around at whatever he could see from his central position, but Kirk could still see movement---

April turned back to them, a curious expression on his face. The figure stepped out of the shadows and into the unforgiving light.

He was not a miner.

The world stopped spinning beneath them. Kirk’s heart stopped beating. His blood froze in his veins as he stared at a man in a uniform that he had not seen outside of his nightmares for almost twenty years. The Section 31 agent only spared them one glance as he strode from the tunnel behind them, a box clasped tightly in his gloved hands, and towards April in the center.

Kirk staggered forward one step, raising his phaser to protect April, to stun the agent---

“Good morning, sir,” the agent said as he passed April, and April inclined his head in greeting before clasping his hands behind his back and turning back to them. Kirk stood frozen, as stuck as if his feet had been cemented to the ground. April’s eyes flicked between Kirk and Spock, who sidled around him now to keep his body between Kirk’s and the agent’s, and he sighed.

“God damn it. So you both know.” He unclasped his hands to pinch the bridge of his nose between two fingers. The words echoed through Kirk’s head, shattering senselessly against the inside of his brain. April stared down at the ground, hand hiding his expression, before looking back up at them with undisguised grief.

“I tried everything in my power to keep us from this point,” April said quietly. “And you fought me every step of the way, Kirk. Why couldn’t you stand down?”

April knew.

April was part of it. April worked for Section 31. As a burning spear of betrayal struck through his stomach, and his heart hammered in his chest, the cold glassy pane of disassociation slid down over Kirk’s thoughts. Spock’s head twitched from side to side next to him, brown eyes assessing the cavern around them, the tunnel they’d left behind. Kirk slowly increased the power on his phaser by one level and gripped it tighter.

“That is not a wise idea, captain,” April said, glancing down at his hands. Kirk’s knuckles were white. Spock moved sideways, putting himself one step ahead of Kirk’s shoulder, his posture sliding from upright and stoic to that of a predator in the span of a heartbeat. Now that they were standing in the light, Kirk could see: a full team of soldiers in those black uniforms, gloved hands passing securely latched boxes from person to person, taking them somewhere beyond the edge of the cavern. “You will be coming with us regardless of your actions, so I recommend that you don’t do anything too brash.”

“Like hell we will,” Kirk said, and kept his phaser where it was. From over April’s shoulder he could see more soldiers approaching, and one from over Spock’s.

“Disarm them, please,” April said, and the soldier closest to Spock broke into a run. Spock slapped his phaser back into its holster and ran to intercept him. So fast that Kirk could barely track his movement, Spock shoved the man’s phaser-hand upward, grabbed the weapon, and tossed it behind Kirk where it slid up against the wall. He twisted the man’s arm behind his head. When his back was to him, his other hand dropped down onto the crook of his neck and pinched. The man slumped to the ground, incapacitated, and Spock spun with a snarl to the other two soldiers as they approached, more cautiously than the first had.

April raised one hand, and the two soldiers halted. “Mr. Spock, reports of your pacifism seem to be greatly exaggerated. But I think you’ll find that standing down would be more… logical.” He nodded to Kirk, and Spock’s head snapped to him. They both looked down at the small red dot that had appeared on Kirk’s uniform shirt, hovering over his heart.

Kirk looked up, past April, and saw a woman across the cavern from him, plasma rifle balanced carefully on a stack of boxes. She nodded in acknowledgement when his eyes found hers before slotting herself back to the sight on the rifle.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Spock,” April said quietly. “But I would recommend putting your weapon and your communicator down.” From across the cavern, Kirk saw the sniper’s shoulders settle. The red dot rested unwaveringly on his chest. Spock’s eyes were trained on it, and Kirk could see that great mind calculating percentages and statistics even before he raised his gaze to meet Kirk’s.

Spock pulled his comm from his belt and the phaser from the holster before dropping both to the dirt at his feet.

“Wise,” April commented, as Spock returned to Kirk’s side, angling himself so that the dot of the rifle’s laser sight rested on his shoulder instead of Kirk’s chest. “Yours too, please, captain.”

Kirk glanced at the laser sight on Spock’s shoulder before pulling his comm and phaser off his belt as well. “What’s going on here, admiral?” His voice sounded very far away, even to his own ears. His phaser and comms hit the dirt with a dull thud, and he nudged them away from him with his foot.

“Stupid doesn’t suit you, Kirk,” April said softly, and Kirk’s mind snapped back to a subspace call with April two weeks ago, when he had said that he was taking Spock away, that he was sending Spock to another ship---

“Come with me,” April said, and turned over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you as much as I can.” Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance, and he knew they were in agreement. They followed April through the cavern and stuck close to each other. By Kirk’s count, there were a few over twenty Section 31 agents milling through the cavern, disappearing into and reappearing from the tunnels that dotted the larger room. Two of them hefted the one that Spock had pinched over their shoulders and vanished with him down another tunnel straight ahead.

“You are both acquainted with Section 31,” April said. “But do either of you know what its actual purpose is?”

“I hypothesized that it was primarily dedicated to research,” Spock said, and he glanced at Kirk; Kirk nodded. Yes, that was the best option; keep April talking, get him to explain as much as they could while they sought another way out.

“That’s not untrue,” April said, and nodded to the scurrying agents as they shuttled those locked boxes deeper into the tunnels. No one spared them a glance, but Kirk was viciously gratified to see that no one was willing to pass within two meters of Spock. “But it does go a little broader than that. The Federation needs a variety of tools to protect the interest of its citizens and ensure that actors like the Klingons are not able to interfere with our affairs. Starfleet, as a whole, is a hammer, and to you, everything looks like a nail. 31 is a scalpel.” April glanced at them, and his hand rested on his phaser, as if they needed a reminder of who currently held the power.

“I do not understand your analogies, admiral. Please speak plainly,” Spock said, but the badly disguised anger in the set of his shoulders said that he very much did.

“Starfleet, and starships and their captains, tend to be loud and flashy. 31 is able to act with more subtlety, more… finesse. Part of its value comes from being able to operate without public scrutiny. 31 conducts research, develops technology, and asks questions, same as the VSA.” He nodded at Spock, as if they were now speaking the same language, and a minute muscle in Spock’s jaw twitched as if he were offended by the comparison. “But when something goes wrong, something that gives our enemies the opportunity to take advantage of a weakness, 31 is the best tool for mitigating that damage.”

April gestured around at them, at the contingent of individuals in black uniforms. “Dextrum wasn’t beholden to our labor laws, because it wasn’t a Federation company. When the conflict first broke out, there was a possibility that we would both lose our investment and face backlash on a galactic level from working with an organization that treated its workers like this. Section 31 was called in to make sure that, at the very least, we got the dilithium we paid for.”

“But we weren’t supposed to be here,” Kirk burst out. His fury was heavy on his tongue.

“Who is we, captain?” April asked, bemused. “You were not supposed to be here. I tried to keep you and Spock from ever seeing this at all. But then you answered that call for help, the one that was never supposed to have been sent, and I couldn’t stop you.”

They entered a tunnel, not as narrow as the first but still smaller than the cavern behind, and April strode ahead while Kirk and Spock walked shoulder to shoulder. For one second, in the darkness, Kirk grabbed onto Spock’s hand and squeezed, and Spock squeezed back. Then they reemerged into the light and he released his grip.

“Admiral,” Spock said, as he looked around at the lofty cavern around them, and the telescoping ladder leaning against the wall on the far side of the space. “Please clarify why you are willing to share this information now, when you would not before.”

For a second, Kirk watched as a muscle ticked in April’s neck, as he heard a soft clicking as April’s throat closed, as April turned his face away from them both. When he turned back again, even as his face remained neutral his eyes revealed his grief.

“You two never should have been allowed to serve on the same ship,” he said. “Regardless of what Pike thought of your potential together. I said the risks were too high, but others were so convinced that a Vulcan would never befriend humans that they were willing to ignore it.” April’s voice was profanely gentle when he continued. “Sometimes it felt like I was the only one who remembered S’chn T’gai Michael Burnham, and that she had been human.”

Spock’s eyes widened.

“I tried to separate you before it was too late,” April said, and his voice hoarsened. He pressed his hand against his sternum and closed his eyes for a second longer than normal. He clenched his jaw as his eyebrows pulled together. “But your damned Vulcan telepathy… the link to the ambassador, to Amanda Grayson, and to T’Pau, who already didn’t trust us…” April hissed a breath out through his teeth, and with every second, every secret, the wrinkles of his face and the dark circles under his eyes deepened. “I didn’t want to do this.”

“Then don’t,” Kirk said. In the space of those two words, he finally understood how Madeleine and Natalya had heard the unsaid threat in the auditorium on Tarsus. He felt the same burning clarity in his bones as he turned to Spock, felt electric fear skittering along his skin like lightning. Spock was turning to him, his apprehension plain in his beautiful brown eyes, reaching one long hand out for him, when April said, voice tight, “Make it look like an accident.”

Kirk heard the whine of a charging phaser behind him. He was standing in the auditorium on Tarsus, next to Tommy and the littles. He was standing in the cavern, hundreds of feet below the surface of Kindinos. He was standing in front of Spock on their wedding night as Spock reached out to take his hands.

“No,” he said, and he snatched Spock’s outstretched hand and yanked as hard as he could. The cavern lit up with the light of phaser fire. Spock stumbled against him, his breath leaving him in a rush as he collided with Kirk’s chest. They both rocked backwards. Kirk wrapped his arms around Spock and spun them both, Spock’s feet clumsy and dragging beneath them. Spock was warm in his arms. His breath brushed Kirk’s ear.

Kirk’s hand was warm and wet when he pulled it away from Spock’s back. He looked down over the planes of Spock’s shoulder to see green coating his palm.

“No,” he said again, and something vital inside him shattered. “No, hey, Spock, look at me. Look at me.”

From somewhere very far away, he heard an unfamiliar voice say, “Should I fire again?” April responded, “No. It’s just a matter of time. Leave them be, but grab Kirk before we take off.”

Spock leaned heavily against him, head resting on his shoulder, and his voice was low and weak as he breathed, “Captain.” His knees buckled. Kirk lowered them both to the ground, taking as much of Spock’s weight as he could, holding him close in an awful parody of intimacy. Spock slid sideways as he lost his balance, and Kirk caught his head in his hand before it could hit the ground. Spock’s hair was silky against his palm, but the blood on Kirk’s hands dampened the strands and made them stick to each other. It smudged against his forehead and drew little green lines over his skin. He coughed, sprawled on the ground where he lay, legs bent beneath him. The only things Kirk could feel were the weight of Spock’s head in his hand and the hard earth beneath his knees. Spock’s face was too pale, and his eyes were glassy as he looked up at Kirk bending over him.

“Captain,” Spock said, and he lifted one shaking hand to Kirk’s face.

“No,” Kirk said again, and ripped what was left of Spock’s shirt open. The phaser fire had torn through Spock’s chest, entering from the left side of his back and exiting near his sternum. The smell of burning skin turned his stomach, but he forced himself to look. It felt like one of his nightmares, but he couldn’t wake himself up. “It’s not so bad, see? It’s not so bad.” It was worse. The phaser had been set to kill, and it had seared Spock open. But, Kirk realized, as Spock’s cold hand landed unsteadily on his neck, that if he hadn’t pulled Spock towards him it would have gone straight through his spine and heart.

“Jim,” Spock said, and coughed again. There was a speck of green at the corner of Spock’s mouth, and Kirk wiped it away with his thumb.

“Hush,” he said. “You’re going to be fine.” He knelt over Spock, hands fluttering uselessly over the expanse of burned skin and wishing that he were Bones, and realized in horror that he could see Spock’s ribs inside his body. They rose and fell with his unsteady breathing. Spock’s hand groped for his and clasped it.

“My Jim.” Spock coughed. “Ashayam.” The Vulcan word slid like water, like blood, off his tongue, and Kirk’s eyes burned hot with tears as he remembered in a flash that first morning, sitting across from Spock in the mess, teasing Spock, watching him drink his tea as they planned their fake relationship. Beloved. Beloved. Beloved. He pressed their joined hands to his chest and leaned over him. Something dug into his stomach.

Something hard and metallic was digging into his stomach.

“You’re gonna be okay, honey, I promise,” Kirk said, and he reached one hand inside his shirt to pull out Scotty’s experimental comm. Spock’s eyes followed his hand lazily, and he shook his head.

“No, captain,” he said, and his voice was weak. “Use it for yourself…” He trailed off as his chest spasmed, and he coughed wetly. His blood seeped into the dirt beneath him, staining his shirt and Kirk’s pants.

“Absolutely not,” Kirk said fiercely, and he flipped the comm open in the space beside Spock’s body and his knees. Within it was one single red button. He pressed it.

Nothing happened. He slid it into the remains of Spock’s mangled shirt, where it rested on his stomach, and redoubled his grasp on Spock’s hand. “Hold on,” he said. “Scotty will get you out.” He had never prayed so hard for something to be true.

Spock’s eyes were trained on his face, as if he were memorizing the lines of it. “Why?”

“You have to ask?” Kirk shook his hand lightly before pressing it against his chest again, and slid his hand over Spock’s forehead, through his hair, smoothing it back away from his face. “I promised to keep you and protect you, didn’t I?” Kirk’s voice shook. Spock’s unfocused eyes searched his, but his eyelids were drooping.

Was it Kirk’s imagination, or was Spock starting to dissolve?

“For better and for worse, against all dangers, as long as I live,” Kirk said. The edges of Spock’s body softened, glowing golden with the molecular confusion of a transporter lock, and Kirk half-laughed as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. Scotty, that mad beautiful genius. Kirk was going to owe him and Giotto whatever they wanted for the rest of their lives, assuming that he made it out in one piece.

Beloved. Beloved. Beloved. Spock’s eyes were locked on him, the warm brown that he had come to cherish over every other color, and he ran one hand over Spock’s cheek.

“I love you,” he said. “You’re my best friend, and my husband, and I want you to be both of those things for the rest of my life.”

Spock’s eyes refocused, hardening as he started to vibrate entirely into gold. Kirk heard someone from behind him yell out, but there was nothing that they could do to him now. The only thing that mattered was that Spock would be safe, that Bones would fix him, that he wouldn’t die here, bleeding out on the cold stone floor.

“I will come back for you, ashayam,” Spock said, voice harsh with the blood in his throat. Kirk kissed the back of Spock’s hand and laid it gently on Spock’s stomach. Then he sat back on his heels and watched in heartstopping relief as Spock shimmered entirely out of his vision and disappeared, leaving behind only the green bloodstain on the dusty stone floor.

April roared, “What did you do?”

“Protected my husband,” Kirk said, and he grinned ruthlessly at April from where he knelt on the ground. April frowned down at him before nodding sharply.

From behind him a phaser whined and discharged, and the world around him vanished into blackness before he had even hit the ground.

☆☆☆

Kirk’s face pressed against something cold and metallic. He could feel the rumbling of an engine reverberating through his cheekbone, rattling his skull and intensifying what was the beginning of a splitting headache. His hands were tied behind his back, and he lay facedown on his stomach. Behind him, he could hear murmured conversation; one deep and familiar voice, and an unfamiliar one. Where the hell was he?

April’s voice said, “Thank you. Dismissed.” His heavy footsteps rang against the floor, and Kirk felt each footfall through his bones.

April had fooled them, betrayed them. Someone had hurt Spock. And now, he was… where, exactly? The feel of the engine and the faint recycled smell of the air told him he was on a shuttle, but with no idea how long he had been out and no comm device to use for coordinates, he was lost. But Spock had gotten out. The Enterprise had beamed him aboard. That was what mattered.

April sat down somewhere in the vicinity of Kirk’s shoulders and sighed. Then he said, “Are you awake yet, captain?”

Kirk stayed still, weighing his options. He could pretend to be out still and wait until April left, or he could reveal his consciousness and see if he could get April to talk again. Any information would help him at this point.

He lifted his head, peeling his cheek painfully from the metal floor, and turned his head to look April’s way. “April,” he said, as coldly as he could manage. He thought he could be forgiven for abandoning his decorum at a time like this.

“I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” April said, and Kirk snorted. But April looked awful. His eyes were sunken in his face, dark circles beneath them, and the muscles of his face looked like he had forgotten what smiling was long ago. He met April’s eyes.

The other man shifted forward out of his seat and rolled Kirk onto his side before pushing him upright and retreating to his bench seat again. There was a secured stack of cases behind Kirk, and he leaned back against them, stretching his legs out in front of him. He was definitely on a shuttle--- a small one, by the width of the room they were in--- and the stars passed by the window over April’s shoulder at sublight speed.

April studied him for a minute before sighing again. “I knew this was going to end badly for you the day that you fought me to keep Spock. You should have let him go.”

Kirk resisted the urge to spit at him, but it was a close thing. He felt like a caged animal. It was only the restraint of his hands tied behind his back that kept him from throttling April. April, who had ordered the shot that had sprayed Spock’s lungs over the shirt that he still wore, who had pulled those horrible gasping breaths out of him as Kirk lowered him to the ground--- but he couldn’t think about Spock and that wound right now, or he would crumble. He pushed his thoughts behind the wall in his mind and focused on what was around him, before him.

“I was never going to do that,” Kirk said. “Not if he didn’t want to go.”

“So you married him?” April dragged one hand over his face. “I had hoped that it was all a ruse, just another one of your Corbomite maneuvers to outbluff me--- but. I do have eyes, after all. As soon as you responded to the distress call, I received my orders.”

“And what orders were those?”

“To make you my strategic extraction,” April said. He dropped his hands into his lap. “31 wants you, captain.”

Kirk laughed once, harshly. It grated on his throat. “I will never work for you. I wouldn’t have done it before, and I’m certainly not going to do it now.”

“Because we hurt Mr. Spock?”

“Because you hurt my husband,” Kirk snarled, leaning forward, and was gratified by April’s nervous twitch.

“I understand your reticence, captain, but your consent is not required.”

“Is that so? Are you going to track down Spock and put a phaser to his head every time you need something from me?”

April watched the stars go by the window over Kirk’s head for a minute before he said, “The solution is a little more elegant than that, and one that I believe you are already acquainted with.”

A cold line of fear dripped into Kirk’s stomach--- a method of forcing his hand that he was already acquainted with? What the hell could that mean? The door at the head of the room slid open, and a woman in the black 31 uniform walked in.

“Docking in thirty seconds, admiral,” she said, and he nodded at her before she disappeared back into what seemed to be the cockpit of the shuttle.

“I’m sure she’ll show you soon enough,” April said, and stood. He vanished through the door to the cockpit, leaving Kirk alone in the back of the shuttle. He staggered to his feet immediately, shoving himself upright as quickly as he could with his arms still bound. He pressed his face against the window, trying to see where they were docking---

A huge ship appeared out of the darkness before him as the shuttle swung around. It was nearly as big as the Enterprise, but a newer, unfamiliar design--- it was sleeker, and darker. To Kirk, it looked unfriendly. There were no numbers or names tagged onto the ship anywhere that he could see, but it was built in the same styles as other Federation ships. It grew larger and larger in the tiny window before the shuttle was entirely swallowed by the ship and the view was replaced by the docking bay.

The turbodoor slid open and Kirk shifted backwards, tensing. April stepped back in.

“Got a look at the ship, did you?” His voice was jovial enough, though it seemed like all of the little light remaining had left his eyes. “She’s gorgeous, and almost brand new. You might come to like her, after a time.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Kirk said. “I’m a one-ship man, myself.��

April held his eyes, and there was nothing in his face of the man who had been on the Enterprise, harassing his crew, just days before. He was still flesh and bone, but the spirit had fled somewhere between Kindinos and this ship.

For a moment Kirk held his eyes, and April’s jaw worked, throat tensing, until he pressed a hand to his mouth and turned away. When he turned back, whatever he had wanted to say was gone.

“If you’d follow me, captain,” April said, and gestured in front of him. “There is someone who wants to see you.”

“I can’t shake any hands if you don’t untie me,” Kirk said as he passed. He got an eyeful of the cockpit as he stepped through it and down onto the runner along the shuttle. It looked like those on the Enterprise. If he could somehow steal one, he could fly it.

“We won’t think any less of you if you forget your manners,” April said, and followed him down. Kirk stepped down onto the shuttle bay floor and looked around him in abject awe. The hangar was enormous--- bigger than even the Engineering department on the Enterprise. There were six shuttles resting along the runway, two recently landed with crew streaming out of them, and room for more. An entire contingent of people in 31 blacks scuttled around: working on shuttles, or passing by on catwalks overhead, or flowing in and out of the doors dotted around the hangar.

“Where’d you get the money for a ship like this?” Kirk wondered out loud.

April smiled slightly, a horrible rictus, and said, “I can be very convincing when I need to be.” He walked towards one of the larger doors leading into the depths of the ship, and the shuttle navigator prodded Kirk forward with her drawn phaser. He followed April, memorizing the layout of the hangar and the catwalks above him as best he could. Maybe he could break his restraints and steal a shuttle. Maybe he could steal a comms unit and get Uhura’s attention on some radio frequency, somehow. Maybe he could---

The large door before them slid open, and the first thing he noticed was the shine of fluorescent lights on steel gray hair. A woman strode towards him and April, flanked by a retinue of Section 31 officers, and Kirk knew her. Her hair had been blonde, and her skin once had fewer wrinkles, but Kirk knew her: he knew her twinkling eyes and heart-shaped face and gentle posture. His feet stopped moving involuntarily. His hands went numb behind his back as he stared at her.

“Captain James Kirk,” Elise Darling called, and her voice was just as it had always been; warm and inviting and utterly undeniable. “Oh, I always knew that you were going to be special. Welcome to the headquarters of Section 31.”

#my writing #spirk #spirk fan fiction #k/s fan fiction #fake married #k/s #regulatory relations #wahoo here we go deep into act 3!#it's endgame baby!

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magicalqueennightmare · 1 year

Text

Sins & Amends Chapter 10

(Gif by @ banditthewriter)

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Billy and Frank are finally home [mention of sexual tension?]

"Aunt Y/N are you ok?" You smiled down at Lisa "Yeah sweetie. Why did you ask me that?" She pointed to your foot "You haven't stopped tapping your foot since we got here" you felt a blush warm your face at your niece of all people calling you out. Maria turned around and grinned at you before saying "Aunt Y/N is fine baby"

Frank Jr grabbed your free hand and squeezed it "Is it all the people? It always makes me nervous too" you smiled at him trying to soothe you "Yeah buddy. It's just a really big crowd here today"

The truth was the crowd, the noise. All of it was the furthest thing from your mind. It may have well only been you, Maria and the kids standing in the airport for all you cared. In the next few moments Frank and Billy would be stepping off that plane. You'd welcomed them both home so many times but this was different. You didn't know what to expect. A part of you wanted to run to him the moment he came into sight but a part of you wanted him to come to you.

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"Here they come Y/N" Maria announced drawing your attention to the slew of uniforms headed towards the front of the airport. You knew Billy hated the clapping and the "Thank you for your service" they always got. Hell Frank took it with a tight nod to whoever was saying it.

Your eyes scanned the crowd knowing the two of them would be together and after this long you would be able to spot them anywhere. Your eyes locked onto Billy at the same moment he spotted you and a wide smile spread across his face. "What are you waiting for? Go welcome your marine home" Maria said giving you a light shove.

You took a few tentative steps towards them and saw Billy drop his bags to meet you halfway then you ran the final few feet into his arms. "God I've missed you" he breathed into your neck as he picked you up off the ground holding you tight against his chest. For the first time you allowed yourself to feel every emotion that came along with being in his arms. "I've missed you too" you confessed wrapping your arms around his neck.

When he placed you back on your feet the smile he gave you made your knees feel weak "I really want to kiss you sweetheart" "Then do it" you replied with a smile of your own. When his lips met yours it was like a jolt of electricity went through your body. You'd never believed Maria about all the fireworks the first time she kissed Frank but in that moment you understood.

You let out a light sigh pulling him down closer to you to deepen the kiss as he slid his tongue into your mouth rolling it against yours. You forgot about everyone and everything in that moment besides how it felt to finally be kissing him. Or you forgot until Lisa let out an excited yelp "I KNEW YOU LIKED AUNT Y/N!"

Billy pulled away from you with a guilty smile spread across his face but slid an arm around your waist as he turned to face her. Yeah you did Lis. I should've listened then"

Frank cleared his throat and when you cut your eyes up at him he was all before laughing "Now that the two of you are no longer playing tonsil hockey in the middle of the airport I'd like to get something to eat followed by a hot shower and at least eight hours of sleep" "eight? I was thinking ten or twelve" Billy added kissing your cheek before all of you headed outside.

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All of you ended up back at the Castles splitting pizza. You helped Maria get the kids settled for bed then came back in the living room to find Frank and Billy both drifting off on the couch.

"Fellas neither of you have gotten the hot shower you wanted" you reminded and they both roused up yawning "Yeah and no offense to the couch here but I'd rather sleep in a bed tonight" Billy agreed grabbing his bag from the floor.

Frank pulled you into a hug and half mumbled "See you tomorrow kid. I'm gonna go grab a shower and hit the hay" "Night Frank"

Him and Billy said their good nights while you spoke to Maria. "Headed home?" She asked and you nodded "Yes ma'am. I'm off today and tomorrow then I work back to back shifts then I'm off Friday and Saturday and don't go in until the over night shift on Sunday" she pulled you into a hug and whispered into your ear "are you calmer now?" You nodded so she smiled then added in a normal tone "Billy I expect you to make sure she gets home ok?"

He hugged her and said "You know I'd never let anything happen to her Maria"

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You and Billy ended up taking a cab back to your building. A part of you always wondered if you should get a car but this was New York City most of the people you knew that didn't have kids just walked or took cabs.

You paid the driver earning a look from Billy who mumbled "Sweetheart I was going to do that" you shrugged innocently "Habit?"

You smiled when he slid an arm around your waist after he climbed out behind you "I forgive you but since you're off Friday I'm claiming that night for our first actual date" you turned to look at him as the two of you walked through the door of your building "should I be worried?" He grinned in response making your heart do a flip.

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It wasn't until you were stepping off the elevator that it occured to you that Billy was fucking exhausted and his apartment was another four and a half blocks away

"Um Billy if I mean you don't have to but if you want to just stay here tonight you're welcomed" you tried not to stumble your words because it by far wouldn't be the first night the two of you shared a bed or couch or hell even hammock for that matter.

"Depends" he spoke following you into your apartment and dropping his bags by the door. You laid your keys and bag down then turned to face him not realizing he was close enough that turning put you nearly flush against him.

"Depends on what?" You asked bracing your hands on his chest to keep your balance. He pulled you closer a smile pulling at his lips "Do I get to sleep in the bed with you?" "If you want" you teased only for him to pull you into another kiss. This kiss wasn't as urgent and rushed as the one at the airport. This was a lingering kiss full of want and need but also the feelings both of you had buried for so long finally being allowed the light of day.

When he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours both of you were breathing heavier than before. He closed his eyes and swallowed twice before finally saying "God I wish I wasn't this tired" you felt a warmth flood through you at his words. He really did want you as much as you wanted him. "We have time Billy. Go get a shower then I'll grab one and we can go to sleep"

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When you walked out the bathroom you were brushing your hair and smiled when you saw Billy sprawled across the bed. His long legs spread out before him clothed in only the sweatpants he'd left at your place before his last deployment. He had one arm draped over his eyes. You allowed yourself the moment to take in the sight of the man you cared so much about. Every scar that littered his bare chest you knew the story behind including one that you'd inadvertently caused with a paintball a few years back.

You had the biggest urge to run your fingers across them but didn't want to wake him up so you simply slid into bed turning on your side with your back to him. You felt the mattress dip right before Billy's arm slid around your waist pulling you so your back was tight against his chest "This ok with you?" He breathed against your neck his voice heavy with sleep and the warmth of air on your bare skin making you have to resist the urge to squirm. "More than ok" you whispered and weren't sure he'd heard you until he chuckled lightly "good. Let's get some sleep"

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Billy woke up before you. He glared at the curtains that were cracked just enough for one stream of sunlight to sneak in. One glance at the clock told him he'd somehow managed to keep you in bed longer than he'd ever known of you sleeping. It was a few minutes shy of ten in the morning yet you were still curled up fast asleep.

He smiled at seeing you so peaceful in his arms. You were gorgeous all the time but now? He'd never dreamt of anyone like you. Being your friend had been the biggest blessing and now you were giving him a chance. You were handing your heart over and trusting him not to break it. Your words from the night before found him again "We have time Billy"

Every other time he'd hit stateside he'd look forward to spending time with you. When he'd leave he'd miss you like crazy and now he was allowed to finally show you just how much you meant to him. As if you could hear some of his thoughts a small smile slipped onto your face "It's not polite to stare Russo"

"Well don't be so beautiful then maybe I won't" he replied moving his arm so you could turn around to face him. You yawned then glanced over your shoulder at the clock "Damn this is the longest I've slept in a while" he didn't try to stop the smirk that was pulling at his lips "Well maybe you just needed me here with you" "maybe" you agreed your eyes never leaving his.

He moved his hand up to brush your hair out your face noticing how your eyes closed just for a second at the contact. He kept his hand on the side of your face then moved it down to grip your jaw gently. When he moved to catch your lips in a kiss you met him halfway.

He groaned when you licked into his mouth taking control of the kiss. He moved his hands down to grip your hips then flipped to be on his back pulling you on top of him. You gasped at the sudden movement bracing your hands against his chest. "Billy" hearing his name come from you spoken like that was enough to make him harden under you.

You rolled your hips as you kissed him and it was everything he could do to not thrust up to meet the movement. You moved from his mouth to his neck leaving kisses along his jaw. When you just barely grazed his earlobe with your teeth he grabbed your hips a bit harder than he meant to. "Y/N you've got to stop sweetheart"

Every emotion from confusion to hurt crossed your face in a few seconds time. "Did I do something wrong?" That made his chest ache. Did you not know just how badly he wanted to push those little sleep shorts you had on off your hips and bury himself inside of you? You meant more to him than a physical release. He had to make sure you knew he was serious about the chance you'd given him.

He quickly shook his head holding you in place even when you tried to move off him "Hell no. Look I want to. Fuck I want to but I promised myself I'd at the very least take you on an actual date before I had sex with you. You deserve to be treated like the amazing woman you are. I just want this to be something more than either of us have had in the past"

You were quiet for a few seconds and he was afraid you'd taken what he said wrong but after a moment you nodded then smiled "I want that too Billy" when you climbed off him he was still worried until you grabbed his hand and said "Now come make out with your girlfriend while I wait on my coffee to make"

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When the two of you finally made it to Frank and Maria's that evening Curtis was the one who opened the door when you knocked. "Hey Curt" you greeted with a smile and he pulled you into a hug.

When Billy walked in behind you Curtis pulled away and winked at you before saying "I can still hug her right?" "Depends you gonna say hello to me too?" Billy joked pulling Curt into a one armed hug.

Before anyone could say anything else you heard footsteps a moment before Lisa, Frank Jr and Maria walked around the corner. "Uncle Curt did you know aunt Y/N is uncle Billy's girlfriend now?" Lisa asked and Maria laughed "Why don't you kids go play?"

When they ran off she glanced between Curtis and Billy "Frank's out back" "Curtis nodded and headed that way but Billy made sure to kiss your cheek before following.

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The moment they were out of earshot Maria raised an eyebrow at you "What have you two been up to?" You rolled your eyes and started not to answer her but the two of you had no secrets you'd known about Lisa before Frank had "We slept in until ten. He wants to take me out on an actual date Friday"

She giggled and looped her arm through yours "Let's get some wine then discuss what outfit and what lingerie you should wear because if you two haven't by then date night always ends up that way"

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You knew that despite their demeanour it always took the guys a few days to fully get home and even longer to start to adjust back. Hell there was times that they would barely get over the war jetlag before deploying again. Being together and with Curtis helped them a lot. You'd helped Billy through many sleepless nights over the years. He'd needed you so you were there.

Seeing him laughing with Frank and Curtis around the grill made your heart do a flip.You understood why he had hit the brakes when things started to get heated. He needed time to get home fully and he wanted to actually take you out. Knowing that he was trying his best to prove he was a better man than you'd ever been with made you want him even more.

If only he knew you'd always known he was a better man. That was why your last few relationships hadn't worked out. You'd compared them to him every time and no one could measure up

You were talking to Maria about your shift the following day while the two of you watched the kids roast marshmallows. You hadn't realized Billy had moved until he leaned down over you for a kiss. You met his lips halfway smiling against them "What was that for?" You asked as he turned to walk back across the yard. He glanced back with a smirk and shrugged "You just looked like you needed to be kissed"

Tags @intothesoul

@weallhaveadestiny

#au billy russo #billy russo au #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #sins and amends masterlist

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i-did-not-mean-to · 11 months

Text

Obedience

@cilil - demon-spawn from Hell - has pitched two of my best boys. Of course, I could not resist! LOL 😁

Please be advised, this is a spicy fic, containing the prompt "Cockwarming" from the summerofcum prompt list.

All credit for the composition and elements goes to @cilil too. We have long conversations on discord that nobody must ever read 🙈

So...here we go...Week 2 ("Summer Festival" is still waiting for a claimer! )

Words: 1538

Characters: Eönwë x Gothmog

Prompt: Campfire - Cockwarming

Warnings: NSFW, smut, rimming, anal penetration

Eönwë looked around, scanning his surroundings frantically, as one awoken from a fever dream.

How long had he been walking aimlessly into the wilderness in his attempt to flee the busily milling crowds that he perpetually needed to inform of some Vala's new decree or prohibition?

Dutiful and sober, he did not object to the crushing workload resting on his broad shoulders but—at times—he yearned to spread his wings and feel nought but his Lord’s merciful wind against his unguarded face.

An involuntary shiver ran down his spine—even after all the time that had passed since the death of the two trees, Eönwë still struggled to remember that the silver moon gave much less warmth than the golden sun.

Sighing, he made to turn back; it was outright undignified and shameful how far he had run without noticing and now, he had been surprised by the faltering heat seeping out of the ground underfoot to dissolve in the misty night air.

Just as he took heart at the thought that he would simply hasten back to his post without wasting a single look or thought on this wild, abandoned land outside of the dwelling places of Valar and Eldar, a flicker of red caught his eye.

"It is forbidden to kindle a fire," he started to remonstrate with the delinquent who had apparently thought to counteract the creeping chill by starting a campfire to warm themselves by.

"In the name of Eru and the big bird, yes, yes," a gravelly, raucous voice drawled. "I want to draw your attention to the fact that I did not indeed set ablaze any of the hallowed creations of the high and mighty Valar you seem to serve so diligently."

Drawing closer, Eönwë stopped dead in his tracks.

What he had mistaken for a merrily burning fire was—he could now discern this with humbling clarity—the naked body of a Balrog.

"Detestable foe!" he thundered, lifting his arm as if to strike before he remembered that he had set out woefully unarmed, not expecting to meet an ancient enemy this far from the hubs of civilisation.

The Balrog turned slowly, his eyes gleaming like gems backlit by the fire of Aulë’s forge, and gave a delighted chuckle.

"If it is not the messenger bird, sweet carrier pigeon of the Valar," he purred, sitting up on his haunches without any noticeable consideration or shame concerning his shocking nudity. "You may call me 'foe' if that is your pleasure, but I'd much rather you use my name."

"Which would be?" Eönwë asked with feigned distaste and ignorance.

Of course, it was rather simple for him to recognise Gothmog—Lord of Balrogs—who had been amongst the last to have been returned to this plane of existence and granted a physical body once more.

"Have you come then to demand further penance?" Gothmog asked, a wry smile stretching his lips into something sharp and vaguely threatening. "Or is it a re-enactment of your greatest triumphs that you seek?"

Glowing eyes observed every twitch rippling across Eönwë's face with undisguised curiosity.

"Oh," Gothmog hummed, "it is a defeat you're looking for. Do you want me to take this weight off your shoulders—throw you down and hold you still? I can do that; I am good at it."

It was a bold claim that made Gothmog's tail lash about in an involuntary admission of nervousness.

To his own astonishment, Eönwë paused and considered that offer. He had not expected to find the idea so alluring, but now that he allowed himself to drink in the bulging muscles and iridescent skin of the creature eyeing him speculatively, he had to admit that his body tensed in joyous anticipation.

The thought of handing over the reins to someone else for a while sounded too delicious to be fully fathomed.

Momentarily, he hesitated but the insidious chill that was swirling up from the now damp ground was so wonderfully chased by a burning hot hand setting on his shoulder that he let out a shuddering sigh.

He was well aware of the peril he was in, but the tension between his worst apprehensions and his most depraved hopes only exacerbated his desire to lean into the yet innocent, casual caress.

"Ready to get your feathers singed, little bird?" Gothmog murmured, leaning towards Eönwë in a cloud of soothing warmth and smoky fragrance.

Elegant and elemental as a volcano bursting with veins of liquid fire, he towered over the herald in a way that made Eönwë feel almost delicate and frail in comparison.

Despite the erroneous accounts coursing through the tales of the Children, Gothmog was merely wreathed in flame rather than having actual, functional wings.

Thus, he plucked playfully at the long, white feathers covering the impressive appendages that adorned Eönwë's strong back.

"Beautiful," he whispered and started circling the radiant, immaculate hero of wars long past like a huge, hungry lizard cornering a guileless dove.

"What heinous crimes will you do unto a servant of Manwë?" Eönwë gasped as the seemingly innocuous touch thrummed along his every nerve to set his core aflame.

"Worry not," Gothmog promised, "your defilement will be wrought of pleasure and obedience."

This was a game they both knew only too well and Eönwë knees buckled automatically—he had kneeled countless times in the name of duty, and he felt no humiliation at performing this old-familiar gesture of reverence.

Already, his acute awareness of the despicable identity of the presence looming over him like a nefarious shadow was fading fast, supplanted by a shameful neediness that knew neither morality nor bounds.

"No whips," Gothmog laughed in a muted voice, "just delicious pain."

With a quick flick of his wrist—an undeniable testament to his skills—he wrapped the long, silken strands of Eönwë's hair around his palm and tugged none too gently.

Eönwë's back arched and his wings trembled, but he did not shift from his position.

Heat was flooding back into his limbs, hitherto stiff with cold, and he gave another throaty moan of relief.

"I've not even started," Gothmog jeered and, with a single swipe of his deadly claws, tore his invaluable garments, fashioned by the deathless hands of the most exalted of the Valar, right off Eönwë's pliable body.

Even though his torturer had sworn that his trusty and universally dreaded whip would not be used, Eönwë felt a lash of searing heat against his buttocks and yelped.

Still, he did not pull away as that torturous thread of magma pushed its way into his body, swirling lazily against the innermost walls of his integrity and lapping teasingly at hidden pressure points that made him see his Lady's most cherished creations dance wildly behind his closed lids.

His bones seemed to melt and, when he felt Gothmog shift behind him, he braced for the unleashing of furious violence that would burn him clean of his doubts and misgivings.

Vowing that he would not give Gothmog the satisfaction of quailing and squirming in terror, Eönwë lifted his chin proudly and fixed his eyes upon the horizon.

It was as he braced as inconspicuously as possible, that he noticed how both the cold and the pervasive boredom that had plagued him had dissolved under the ministrations of that hot tongue, opening and stretching him with the diligent, purposeful determination of one who could but obey his natural inclination to do things properly.

Pressure. Heat. Bliss.

Eönwë let out a garbled cry as a pillar of flame seemed to shoot up through his spine—part of him now almost welcomed and craved the anticipated and dreaded pain that was surely to follow.

As soon as he was fully seated within the hallowed herald though, Gothmog stilled.

Staring at the back of Eönwë's head, in a secluded, deserted clearing, he realised that he was free to do whatever he wanted to Manwë's servant.

Recollections of the exquisite works of blood and bone he had wrought in the past flashed through his mind—Gothmog knew that the storm of carnage and devastation he could unleash upon this docile pet bird would be glorious to behold indeed.

His blood sang with covetousness at the thought of hurting Eönwë in ways that would make him beg for the utter dissolution of his own flesh. Yes, Gothmog thought, the choice was his and the power flowing through his veins was intoxicating and corrupting.

To their shared astonishment, it turned out that what he truly desired was to curl around that strong, winged back and shield it from the cutting, cold air biting into their skin.

"Aren't you a pretty bird?" he cooed, carefully dislodging small fragments of twigs from between the shiny, soft feathers vacillating in front of his blurry eyes.

"What..." Eönwë gasped, pressing back into that arousing heat piercing him to the core. "Why won't you move?"

"Penance," Gothmog replied calmly and went on smoothing and petting the shivering wings with tender care while soaking in Eönwë's intimate, sweet heat with self-indulgent abandon.

"Standing still, you know," he added wisely as he pressed a searing kiss onto the nape of that slender, pale neck beckoning to him, "is not always a bad thing."

@fellowshipofthefics Here's the second one for the second week then :)

Thank you @cilil for progressively poisoning my mind! LOL This was a pleasure to write <3

Lots of love <3

#og post #fotfics july event #Eönwë #Gothmog #Eönwë x Gothmog #Gotty best boy #Campfire #fotfics summer stories #Week 2 #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #summerofcum2023

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 1 year

Text

New Records, New Beginnings

A/N: Y’all I haven’t posted a story on here in four months. Four months. I’m genuinely sorry but also first semester of college high key kicked my ass. So here’s a little Christmas gift from me to you, and yes it’s a bit cliche but Hallmark-y type things are what we all love around the holidays (don’t lie, you love those stupid chick flicks too). Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word Count: 2,852 words Warnings: A lot of fluff, like a lot of fluff.

You had spent most of your Saturdays like this, and nothing much had changed.

You would go out around midday after lunch at home, spend time shopping around whether it be physically buying something or just window shopping. It was a way to destress and reward yourself after a week of work that you felt was much deserved.

The only difference now was the increase in people shopping. Around late November and early December your usual shops became more crowded with people trying to find the perfect Christmas presents for everyone they knew. You were at least smart enough to have already completed your shopping for everyone in the first week… except your dad.

The guy who may have been your favorite person in the world also happened to be the one who was hardest to shop for. You loved him dearly, and while yes he did have a wide array of hobby on the spectrum of being a dad, it didn’t make it much easier to shop for him.

So you had landed yourself in a few record stores today, trying to find any album he would like. Generally he wasn’t that picky on music, he loved lots of artists and bands, but combine that with your mentality of record buying being “you better listen to it” and the task was becoming increasingly harder by the second.

You didn’t necessarily notice anyone around you, it was relatively busy given it being a record shop, maybe six to seven other people in the shop, but you were on a mission to find one of the few records you knew was actually worth spending money on given your fathers listening habits. You were also trying to draw away from buying yourself anymore records, given the two you already had snug under your arm.

Gerard, on the other hand, was like any other holiday shopper. Except he managed to be even worse.

He never shopped for Christmas gifts ahead of time, it was always about a week before when he started. He scolded himself every year for doing it, but never found himself changing the habit. So here he was, rushing into a record store and desperately trying to find this one damn record his dad wanted for his birthday… that happened to be tomorrow.

He didn’t scan around, take in any of these new surroundings, instead he promptly led himself to the cashier’s desk, nearly pleading to see if they had it.

“One copy left,” The older man from behind the counter said. He reeked of being pretentious based off of this record hobby, something Gerard found ridiculous when everyone was doing it now. “Back left corner.”  “Great, thanks.” He quickly made his way to the far left aisle and all the way down to where he was instructed to go, eyes scanning over the different bookmarks in-between each album marking a new artist or new letter of artists. He looked up, thankfully seeing you only about three feet away to put the breaks on his legs, but was met with ultimate grief and defeat.

Of course you had to be looking at the same album he needed. And of course, you placed it under your arm with the rest of your records.

So, he had one of two options here: One was to go home defeated, show up tomorrow with some lame card he got at a pharmacy for his dad, and get scolded at by his mother for not being more on top of these things. Second was to approach you, talk to you, and just see if you were willing to let him have it.

But he was bad at talking to girls. Like, really bad.

It was something his friends had joked about before, how he would much rather be reading or drawing than ever talk to a girl. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to (although many times he really didn’t) it was that he felt like he couldn’t. Women were just… hard.

“Um, excuse me.” He spoke up, nerves bundling in his stomach. Hoping this would be an easy interaction for him, he saw you turn around and instantly he regretted everything. You weren’t just a girl… you were a pretty girl. A very, very pretty girl.

“Hm?” You hummed a bit with your eyes growing a bit wide in curiosity. Wow, those eyes, he thought to himself, never seen that color before.

“I’m, um, not trying to be rude or anything,” He began nervously, “But my dad’s birthday is tomorrow and I’ve literally been to four other record stores and no where has the record he wants. This one only has one and you have the last copy so I was wondering-“  

“Sure.” You replied before he could even finish, moving your arms a bit to reach for the one you had just grabbed, snugly fit close to your body. “It’s for Christmas anyways, for my dad too, but I have more time to find another one.”  

“Really?” He asked, somewhat amazed that you would give this to him, and somewhat amazed that he could speak to you. “I- I really appreciate this, like you have no idea, really.”  

“It’s totally fine.” You tightly smiled, “Besides, if not that one I’m sure I can find another one my dad might like.” He nodded.

“Um, thanks again.” He said with a kind smile and mini bow of appreciation which you chuckled at before he walked back to the register.

“Just this?” The same guy at the front asked him. Gerard nodded, placing the record on the counter and searching in his pocket with his other hand for his wallet. “I’m surprised you didn’t at least ask her out.” He mentioned as Gerard grabbed his card from his wallet, head shooting up.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“I mean, not only were there clearly some sparks, but she gave up the record to a total stranger.” The older man explained, “That’s a new level of nice.”

Gerard looked back briefly at where you were, still browsing but approaching closer to the counter, before awkwardly clearing his throat and swiping his card. As soon as it was approved, he removed it, placing it back in his wallet and grabbing the bag.

“My advice, kid,” The man continued, “Don’t waste up an opportunity like this. The worst she can say is no.”

Gerard stood there for a brief moment stunned, and wondering what to do next. Yes, this stranger had a point about you, but the thought of asking you out despite the fact he really wanted to seemed beyond his ability. But then again, he did ask you for a record. That’s the same thing, right? You could’ve said no then and you could say no now, but that’s the worst that could happen.

With no actual foreseeable good outcome, Gerard retraced his steps to finding his way back to you. This time, you seemed more attentive as he approached you, looking up at him with those same stark eyes again. “I just wanted to say thank you, one last time.” He began, “You really saved me from having to deal with my mom scolding me tomorrow.” You lightly chuckled.

“It’s no problem, really.” You admitted, still with a smile on your face.

“Is there anyway I could pay it back maybe?” He asked, trying to put on some level of confidence, “Like coffee, maybe?”

You seemed a bit taken aback by his request, but after a brief moment of thought, responded, “Sure.”

Gerard could feel his muscles release their tense holding as he took a small breath of relief. “Great, uh, could I get your number, maybe?”

  “Yeah, of course.” He handed you his phone as you typed it in, handing it back to him. Y/N, it read, fits her.

“Okay, well, see you soon, Y/N.”

  “See you soon-“  

“Gerard,” He finished ahead of you.

“Gerard.”

“Are you ready, Gee?” You asked from the front door, throwing your keys in your bag and awaiting your boyfriend to appear from the living room.

“Yeah, just a sec.” You could hear the frustration of him fighting with his boot echo throughout the hallway, a rough sigh following afterwards in frustration. “Here.” He finally said after a few more seconds, walking down to you and grabbing his coat from the rack.

Just a year or so ago you would have found it a pretty large disruptions to your average Saturdays had another person been mixed into that equation. But now, Gerard comfortably stood by your side riding along your Saturday activities. He didn’t mind it much, more than happy to play the cart-pusher and attempt to control your irrational purchases, like buying every Christmas scented candle you could get your hands on, or anything that had some sort of a dog or cat on it.

But he found some peace in just walking by you and getting weekly errands done plus having some fun while doing it. He had learned to try many new things on these adventures: tofu for the first time, a face mask, and honey barbecue chips were just a few. But it seemed like most items you gravitated towards said something small about you, which helped him to learn all about you quicker.

It also happened to give him a lot of ideas for presents, which was helpful this time of year. He had already found you a couple hoodies you had fallen in love with, a new pair of slippers, and a few other smaller items, leaving the bigger ones to be more creative and thoughtful.

“I haven’t been here in forever.” You remarked, pulling into the space right in front of your local record store.

“I know, right?” He replied, “It’s just so easy to buy this online.”

  “True,” You agreed, shutting the engine off, “But at least local stores have cooler, older things that aren’t crazy upcharged.”

“Also, true.” He smiled, getting out of the car and waiting by the edge for you to get out too.

One nice things about record stores is that they never change all that much. Everything was basically the same here as it was last time, which led to a much more relaxed experience looking through each section. Aside from a few new titles and artists, almost everything sat as it was.

Gerard always kept a close eye on you in these situations. He had learned little hints you gave as to when you wanted something. Eyeing it for a bit longer than usual then gasping a bit, excitedly showing him something with a fun fact about it, maybe even blatantly just saying you wanted it. He kept a mental list of all the things you had wanted, trying to make an effort to check off every one (well, almost, bigger things like a dog were for a later discussion).

But here, in the record store where he met you and you him, where you had managed to save him from a hell of a scolding from his mom, his eyes stayed practically glued to your fingers as you scanned each title, lingering on some for longer than others. He stayed like this a good few minutes but keeping his distance and hoping you wouldn’t notice. He had eventually resorted to sneakily walking around and picking out records you wanted or ones he knew you liked. Again, the mental list of these artists stayed glued to his mind.

He had realized relatively quickly that his hands were getting full. He had picked out six or seven right now and hadn’t even made it a third of his way through the store. He took a sigh, looking back to make sure you were occupied and not looking anywhere near the register, before walking up and placing the records down on the front counter. “Would you mind just holding these behind the counter while I look around a bit more?” He requested, “My hands got kinda full.”  

“No problem.” A slightly familiar voice echoed, Gerard looking at the older man behind the counter who was smirking, looking between Gerard and you.

Not thinking much of it, Gerard went back to his shopping habits, picking out record after record. He had gone up for another drop-off trip before you finally approached him, “Hey hon.” Your voice spoke up behind him. He quickly turned around, looking down to see the gorgeous woman he got to call his. “I didn’t find much, I was planning on going to the Target here to grab a few things but it still looks like your shopping.”  

“Yeah, I am a bit.” He admitted with a small smile, “Go on without me, I’ll meet you there and pull the car closer to that lot.”

  “Ya sure?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing as they always did when you seemed to genuinely care. He smiled even more with a nod.

“Yeah, I’ll be good here.” You nodded back, giving him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the store.

Despite the distance making Gerard grow slightly more uncomfortable, and despite the fact he knew well that you were just a few store fronts away, he obliged to the opportunity before him and quickly collected every other record he knew you would want. The ridiculous figure holding at least half a dozen records under each arm was a man in love, every customer silently knew it. Because no one would buy that many records. That was a new level of head over heels.

“All set?” The cashier asked, the wrinkles on his forehead curling up as his smile grew, the question sounding more rhetorical and satire than anything.

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard awkwardly responded at the realization that he looked just a bit like a fool. The pile of albums in front of him stared right back as one by one they were scanned and placed into bags. He questioned how he would just sneak them by you, and with no avail to any answer.

As the total rang through his ears, he quickly slipped his card out of his wallet, handing it over firmly and not turning back. The cashier inched a smile, inserting the card into the machine. “So, things are going well?” He asked.  

“Yeah, ya know, life’s going alright-“

  “Especially with the girl.” He commented back before Gerard could finish.

“Yeah, uh, really well.” He awkwardly chuckled at him, his lovesick state clearly clouding his vision at times.

The card reader beeped, allowing the older man to remove the card with the receipt and hand it back to Gerard. “Hey kid, do me a favor.” He requested, Gerard quick to nod his head and grab the bags, “When you guys are considering a song for your first dance, come to me and I’ll buy it for you two on vinyl.” Gerard turned to flustered as his eyes went wide in a moment of shock.

“Oh, um, I’m not sure-“  

“You’ll be there.” He smiled from, clicking his ben against the desk, “Trust me.”  

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Gerard mumbled into your hair as you stood by your Christmas tree together. It was by no means Christmas, a couple days before, still, but you wanted to make sure to open all of your presents before you each went to your own families for the holiday.

“You too, hon.” You smiled back, tucking further into the arm draped over you his hand rubbing the small of your back. “Presents?” You asked cheerfully, he nodded back with a smile plastered across his face.

“Presents.” He declared back.

It had been a solid 15 minutes of ripping open the wrapping-covered boxes before hitting the last one, one which specifically Gerard requested you do last. You could tell by the shape alone that it was a record, a new one on top of the other stack of new ones next to you, but as you slowly ripped it open you realized what it was. You let out a small laugh as your fingers gripped the side of the two records.

“It’s supposed to make up for last year.” He briefly explained. You looked up at him and smiled.

“It’s perfect. Now I can actually give my dad this.” You replied, “But what about the second one?”  

“Oh, I figured you give one to your dad, and then we keep one on hand.” He continued, “It was what caused us to meet.”  

“That’s very poetic, Gee.” You softly said, standing up and walking over to his spot on the couch. You cupped his face lightly, leaning down to give him a soft kiss on the lips, which he gladly accepted and he moved his lips against yours. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, sweetheart.” He smiled up at you, his hands now gripping your hips. “I figured we could put it up on the mantle somewhere, make sure it’s seen.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Your hands delicately ran through his messy hair as he let out a purr of sorts in response, “Even if we never spin it, it’s perfect.”

#gerard way #mcr gerard #gerard way fanfiction #my chemical gerard #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader #mcr #mcr fanfiction

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