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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

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So the devs for the Arcana actually posted the recipe for Selasi the Baker's pumpkin bread on their YouTube channel four years ago?!?

youtube

@helshollowhalls sent me the link because they know I like to make my own bread on my days off. Read below the cut for pictures of my attempt and my in depth review!

First off, this is an involved recipe. You can expect it to take 4 hours start to finish (for context, my normal weekly baking for 2 loaves of whole wheat bread takes about 2 hours). There's the dough itself, the pumpkin filling, and a glaze to go on top.

Here's what it looked like right out of the oven, before the cinnamon glaze:

Here's what it looked like with the glaze on (please ignore the mess):

And here's the loaf cut open:

The original recipe says that the result should be a mildly sweet, mildly spiced bread. I'm sure that it normally is. However, it seems Asra and I share certain experimental tendencies when it comes to making food, because I ended up more than doubling the spices in the pumpkin filling.

The result I got was honestly one of the best sweet breads I've ever eaten. There's cinnamon in the dough, the glaze, and the filling, so the whole thing tastes really warm and comforting and homey. Don't let it fool you though, because (at least the way I ended up making it) the spices liven it up. It has cloves, all spice, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg besides the expected sugar, salt, and vanilla. It didn't call for cardamon but I added a respectable chunk of that anyways because it was sitting in my spice rack with all the others and I didn't want it to feel ignored. (And also because it was referenced as being in the rice pudding in Asra's route.) I also like making pumpkin soup through the winter, so my filling came out a little more watery than it normally would because I like to steam and freeze my own pumpkin puree.

The result I got was rich, sweet, soft, and flavorful enough that I was still tasting it after I brushed my teeth. The smell also lingered in my kitchen for days. The dough is enriched, meaning that it has eggs and milk and butter in it, which makes it somewhat like a cinnamon brioche. It would be like if a cinnamon roll and a pumpkin pie had a kickass loaf baby. The cinnamon glaze on top definitely added sweetness, but what I appreciated about it was how sticky and gooey the texture became because of it. Be prepared for delightfully messy eating.

If you're thinking, brainrot, the only reason you like this so much is because it makes you feel like you're sitting across from your beloved in the marketplace on a sunny Vesuvian afternoon, I'd say you're not wrong. It's a whole experience. However, after I had my first slice, I took it over to my family's place to share and fell asleep right after. By the time I woke up the whole thing was gone. My mom and younger sibling on their own admitted to eating at least two thirds of it before my dad could get to it. The other younger sibling got all of one (1) slice, poor dude.

100000000/10 will absolutely be scheduling four hours into my next day off to make it again.

(Side note - if you're looking for a trans malewife who cooks/bakes for fun and cleans up after himself and will spend four hours making something just because it's referenced in a romance game, I am right here. I desire cuddles.)

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kerryweaverlesbian · 7 months

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Sarah Blake/Bela Talbot. One of them's a catgirl. You're interested?? Read it!! Sarah's a really fun POV to write!

For the Suptober prompts Black Cat and Portrait. Below is the opening:

Sarah Blake looks at the paper-covered painting she'd spent the past three weeks searching for, a glass of wine half-drunk in her hand. The painting is propped against the fireplace, and it looms, as portraits tend to. B, the little black cat that had followed her home from the auction house - the same day as when she got the commission, now she comes to think of it - sits upright next to her legs on the couch, ears twitching away from her fingers whenever she tried to stroke her.

That's unusual, for this cat. Typically, she'd sprawl out over any available surface, mewl for attention until she got head scratches, and purr contentedly any time Sarah put her hands on her. Now she was stiff, tense.

The only time Sarah had seen her like that before was when she'd tried to put a collar on her¹, and she'd ended up scratched and bitten so badly she'd had to go to the ER. When she got back, B wouldn't look at her, but kept following her from room to room, hissing if Sarah turned her face to her. Sarah, feeling incredibly guilty, had apologised out loud and showed B that she put the collar in the garbage, only realising after she'd done it that of course a cat wouldn't know what any of that meant.

Strangely, though, it seemed to work. B had come back purring as soon as the lid closed over the trash. She even licked the bandage over Sarah's cuts, and pushed her head into her hand.

B's a pretty funny cat overall. She has this unimpressed stare she levels at Sarah for such uncouth behaviour as 'bouncing a toy near her' and 'putting out cat food'². She gave a token grumble whenever Sarah scooped her up like a baby, but would dig her claws in if Sarah tried to put her down again before she was ready. She hops onto the counter when Sarah brings her research home (which is more often than she probably should, but hell, what else has she got to do on a Friday night?) and stares at the papers like she's reading them. More than once, B had put her paw on just the information Sarah had been looking for just after Sarah remarked on how she needed it³.

"My good luck girl," Sarah had praised, and kissed B's furry little head. B's hackles had gone up from the smooch, but then she seemed to calm herself deliberately, and she flopped over the papers like she'd lost all her bones in a fit of lazy decadence.

In the present, Sarah swirls her wine and surveys the hidden painting.

"What do you think is wrong with it, B?"

She's supposed to burn it. That's what the note said, which she'd found in an envelope taped to the back of the Picasso she'd just purchased. The note had been written in wobbly scratches of biro, addressed directly to her. It was lucky she was adept at reading awful handwriting - in the archiving business, it's essential - because the script was only barely legible. There had been $32,000 dollars in the envelope too.

The flat out work of the last few weeks had been for the money and the chance at more, she wasn't going to deny that, but part of it was her overactive curiosity.

What's wrong with it? Ava's first thought had been haunting. She'd waved her EMF machine at it half heartedly after the delivery guy left, but the needles stayed dissatisfyingly still. She'd bought the thing on Amazon when a friend mentioned cold spots, but it turned out they'd just had a fault in their double glazing⁴. She hasn't heard from them in a while, not directly, but from her Facebook feed she knows that they haven't been murdered in their bed by a malevolent spirit so far. Which is good! Just, well, a little disappointing, is all...

Read more on ao3

¹ The collar was baby pink, and had a little bell on the end.

² Sarah's never seen her eat it, but it always disappears by morning.

³ So, she talks to her cat, so what? Before B, she'd talk through her process with her toaster.

#sarah blake #bela talbot #sarah blake/bela talbot #s1e19 #provenance #sapphicnatural #spn wlw rarepairs #I went for sort of a romcom feel for her inner monologue #dunno if I succeded but it was fun!#suptober23 #black cat #portrait #sarahbela #cawis creates

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bihanspookies · 3 days

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Kate and The No Good Very Terrible Week

Summary: Kate’s having the worst week possible and Alora decides to try and cheer her up.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

By the end of the week, Alora would’ve believed that the universe had some sort of issue with Kate Murphy, which wouldn’t be too far off considering what it’s already put her through. It started on Monday, when she walked sluggishly into the kitchen area and promptly dropped her head face down onto the table. Alora, who was standing by the counter eating a bowl of cereal, stared at her, chewing silently and waiting for Kate to spew about whatever was bothering her. Moments had passed and the half Edenian was about to put her empty bowl into the sink when the half celestial sighed dramatically and turned her head to look at Alora.

“I’ve had the most awful morning.” She mumbled, bottom lip quivering with her sparkling blue eyes lined with crystal teardrops.

Alora found out through incoherent sobbing that it was because she lost her favorite pencil and couldn’t journal her night's dreams.

Tuesday, Alex had brought a box of donuts and coffee for the gang and when Kate was about to stick her strawberry frosted treat in her mouth, it slipped out her hand and fell icing first to the floor. A beat went by before Kate reached down to grab it, sugar pink glaze smearing on the dirty tile and Alora had shot her hand out to stop Kate from eating the filthy pastry.

“But five second rule—“ Kate had started and Alora shook her head before offering her own cinnamon donut to Kate. It didn’t stop there of course, because Kate’s coffee order was also a disaster; vanilla creamer with only one sugar. Kate nearly spiraled and let out a long exaggerated groan as Alex tried comforting her and apologizing for not double checking.

Wednesday, Kate had asked Alora if she could play with Michi. All was well until Michi bit her hard on the finger when she picked him up without properly warning him. Kate wasn’t angry at the little rat, but did beat herself up for scaring him.

Thursday, her art block finally went away and she was ready to throw herself into the colors of her mind and her paint. Until she remembered that she still hadn’t found her favorite pencil and couldn’t sketch down her plan first, attempting to draw with the next one she could find but it didn’t feel the same. Alora was walking by Kate’s room when she heard the very elongated wail of ‘no’.

Friday and Saturday were surprisingly normal, but with everything else that had gone wrong, Kate was still sulking here and there, a heavy cloud of gray hanging above her head.

Sunday is when Alora decides to try and take matters into her own hands.

She wakes up early, earlier than Kate at least because she knows that ray of sunshine is always greeting everyone before the actual sun does. Alora does her morning routine and says goodbye to Michi before grabbing her things and heading out. Her sneakers quietly scrape against the floor, auburn hair tied back into a high ponytail that sways with every step she takes towards Echo’s quarters. She can only hope the petite blonde is awake at this ungodly hour.

The sun is just peeking over the horizon and shining its streams into the Black Dragon base by the time Alora reaches Echo’s door. She gives a firm three knocks and waits a few seconds before trying again, louder this time. When more seconds pass and she’s about to give it one more try, the hacker opens the door with a subtle flicker of frustration in her green-gray eyes.

“It’s barely 7:15, what could you possibly need at an hour like this?” Her voice, while polite, does have a hint of irritation. She keeps the door open just a crack, enough for Alora to make out half her face still evident with sleep.

“Need to take out a car.”

“So take it.” She answers quickly.

“I have to sign it out with you.” Alora responds just as fast.

“I will deal with it later, now please—“

Right as she goes to close the door, Alora spots movement from behind her on the bed, someone shifting over to face them. She can practically see the hairs on top of Echo’s head stand up straight when Erron Black shuffles over, muttering in his sleep and clutching a pillow to his naked chest. Alora looks down at Echo, eyebrow raised and the faintest curve of her lips.

“Sorry, have a good morning Echo. Thanks for the car.” Alora murmurs, letting her smirk grow the tiniest bit before stepping back to allow her to shut the door. Out to the garage she goes, grabbing a granola bar on the way to snack on.

Nearly two hours later Alora finally returns, a bag in each hand with a coffee gripped in between her fingers as she hurries through the base. She switches the bag in her left to her right, just now holding the coffee and very carefully knocking on Echo’s door once again. The blonde opens it, still in her sleepwear and locking eyes with Alora.

“Yes?” A smidge more pleasant this time but there’s still that wall of disinterest behind her tone.

Alora says nothing, simply handing Echo her usual coffee order and taking a risky peek behind her to see the cowboy still nestled in her sheets.

“For earlier. Don’t know his.” She murmurs softly, offering a small smile and then walking away to head to her room. Echo leans out just enough to watch her disappear around the corner, allowing her lips to move upward the smallest amount before backing up and quietly shutting her door again.

With nimble fingers, Alora fastens together the gifs for Kate in a basket she uses in her greenhouse; a small bundle of different orange pencils (she doesn’t know what brand she likes), a pack of mini strawberry donuts, a handful of hazelnut creamer that she took from a cafe, and last but not least a tiny bouquet of sunflowers. They’re Kate’s favorite from what Alora remembers, recalling seeing her gush about them and how they capture her personality.

She steps back and admires her work, eyes narrowed and lips pursed with her hands perched on her hips. Michi squeaks and scurries around her room, pausing to sniff at Alora’s boot to determine where she had gone. Once he deems it acceptable he runs off, disappearing under her bed.

“Silly rat,” She mutters under her breath, doing one more look over before grabbing the basket and clutching it under her arm.

“See you in a bit, Michi.” She calls out, his peeps sounding faint from under the bed. Alora heads out her room and starts on her journey towards Kate’s, wanting to be in and out as quickly as possible.

She passes by Kabal who, of course, is speaking with the one person she is trying to avoid. They’re sitting at a table, Kate’s back to her as her hands wave around animatedly. She talks about the wacky dream she had last night, Kabal’s eyebrow raised as he listens with his arms crossed over his chest as she rambles on.

For a split second he and Alora lock eyes, the speedster ready to announce her presence but she shakes her head to warn him not to. He looks from her to the basket cradled under her arm, the sunflowers being a giveaway as to who it was for. He nods subtly, returning his attention fully to Kate who’s now talking about the laser shooting dinosaurs that took over the world. Alora walks faster, snorting quietly as she hears a very loud ‘AND THEN!’ from the petite girl.

Quiet as a mouse she slips into her room, dropping the gift on the center of her bed and hurrying back out.

Despite her outward appearance and off putting demeanor, Alora does have her moments where she allows her comrades to get glimpses of who she is on the inside. Who she truly is past the sarcastic comments and brute honesty she offers from time to time. Those fleeting seconds of her steely gaze turning kind, aura shifting from the colors of fierce flame to those of a cooling sunset.

She can be gentle at times, those chances of being able to do so feel so rare and just out of reach. Not because she doesn’t want to— but because she fears letting people go too far in and settle deep in her heart, hammering away at the stone fortress she’s built around herself.

But for today she allows herself to take another fissure, a chip in the corner where a hole has already started to form and let in the radiant sunbeam that is Katelynn Murphy.

Alora passes by Kabal and Kate once again, the former now slumped in a chair and propping his head up with his hand. He spots Alora, empty handed, and happily points her out to Kate.

“Hey!” He shouts with a grin.

Kate abruptly stops talking and swivels around to look at her, big doe eyes filling with glee and waving at Alora.

“Lori!”

Alora stops and lets out a delicate sigh, the corner of her lips ticking up as she walks up to the two of them and slings an arm over the back of Kate’s chair.

“Heard you talking about another dream. Did the gnomes come back?”

It’s barely a full 24 hours when Kate discovers the gift and decides to go thank Alora, finding the fighter fully engrossed in tending to her tomatoes in the greenhouse. She clears her throat when standing at the entrance to announce herself, Alora’s head tilting up with a minor look of surprise on her face. She’s holding something behind her back, clearly trying to hide it from Alora’s view.

“Hey.” Alora calls, returning her attention back to the fruit, ripping out the weeds that have festered around them.

“Hi!” Kate responds, a pep in her step as she gathers closer to watch Alora.

There’s a few moments of silence of Kate simply watching, Alora not minding the audience since it’s something she had grown accustomed to since letting her inside her sanctum. Alora parts her lips to ask a question, but is cut off when Kate places the basket delicately next to Alora. She then wraps her arms around her and squeezes with a delightful hum.

“Thank you.” She says softly, peering at Alora with her glimmering sapphire eyes.

Alora feels the small chamber around the fortress of her heart get just a bit bigger, her own icy gaze locking onto Kate’s as her hand comes to rest on top of her head. Kate knows she’s not one for words when it comes to expressing herself emotionally, but that gleam in Alora’s eyes says everything that she doesn’t.

You’re welcome.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Alex: @chadillacboseman

Echo: @roofgeese

Kate: @thesingularityseries

#ty goose for the title help teehee #mk alex #mk echo #mk kate #mk oc #Kabal

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wyattjohnston · 6 months

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here, let me fix it for you. have you never tied a tie before ?

For my loves Tyson & Flick please!

Like you expected anything less than a Tyson & Flick ask from me on this.

Congrats dear Demi! 💚

hello, thank you! 💚💚💚

flick & tyson

i am taking requests!

Flick did a double take when Tyson rounded the corner a little laugh leaving her mouth as she said, “You look like you just woke up, or just got in from a bender—I can’t work out which one.”

Tyson, with his brow furrowed together and his eyes crossing as he looked down at his chest where Flick’s gaze was firmly on his tie.

“What are you talking about?”

She reached for his tie, undoing it without hesitation, “Let me fix it for you. Have you never tied a tie before?”

“I wear one all the one, what’s wrong with it?”

She repeated, “you look like you’ve been on a bender.”

Tyson didn’t put up a fight as she went about retying it, flipping up his collar and her finger brushing against his neck as she did so. He stared at her, but her eyes were fixated on the tie.

She didn’t remember where she picked up the ability to tie a tie—she hadn’t gone to a school with a uniform and her father had always known how to tie his own—but she knew how to.

Tyson’s eyes were glazing over as he tracked the movement of her fingers, and he cleared his throat when she tightened the Windsor knot. She couldn’t help her eye roll, or the small smile—smirk—that formed.

“You have somewhere to be,” she said, her hands still on his tie.

“And now I’m mad about it,” he huffed.

#tyson jost fic #tyson jost imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #1200 follower requests #this is getting good now fic

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shortfeather · 3 months

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the way the water echoes

did a little sprint based on that neverend mod idea, centered on cleo courtesy of @tripping-sideways. posting this mostly unedited; i think tumblr-only writing is gonna be more casual for me than AO3.

warnings: isolation, sort of imprisonment, liminal spaces, drowning, minecraft death mechanics including deliberately forcing a respawn

It doesn’t really hit her until she’s staring at the pit that leads to a second level, communicator hanging silent at her waist, how much trouble she’s in.

Cleo had been searching for an End portal a little closer to their base. Even with the Nether shrinking the distance eightfold, the main portal was ridiculously far from their home, and considering the amount of endstone she was going to be using this season it made sense to find one nearby. The stronghold had been half flooded, and they’d come close to death against the Drowned in the halls before finally making it to the portal room.

The lava was warm against their undead skin, even as the portal frame exuded a voidlike chill. To their delight, the frame had been mostly filled, just two eyes short. Cleo had popped them in, set a bed down for spawn, double-checked their gear, and hopped on through. Had bent their knees slightly, the way every new player is taught, so the jolt of the hard obsidian landing doesn’t do any damage.

Instead, she’d fallen far and landed in a deep pool of water, surrounded by white walls and with a beautiful blue sky shining down from above her. The exact opposite of what they expected.

Really, this whole dimension is about as different from the End as it gets. The End is all disconnected islands, here is a never-ending series of halls and rooms. The End is dark and cold, here is bright and pleasantly warm, enough for the cool water that covers the floor to feel like a comfort. The End is dead, and here there are bushes of something her inventory calls liminalgae, and occasionally, groups creatures similar to axolotls called poolfish. She can even pick them up, attracting them with the liminalgae like a cow to wheat. They're rather cute. The End is mostly void, here there is a beautiful flat ocean beyond the walls that an invisible barrier prevents her from reaching.

The End is a place Cleo knows how to leave, and here she does not.

She’s tried. The first thing she did upon scrambling out of the water was message X, only for her communicator to show a chat validation error. Their messages can’t go through, though waiting about ten minutes shows that they can still see the messages everyone else is sending. That’s comforting, to a degree; if they wait long enough, someone will realize something is wrong, and Xisuma can do his admin-y things and get them out of here. She’d told Joe what she was doing right before she found this dimension; maybe he’ll look into it even before someone thinks to call X in.

While she’d waited for other messages to come in, she’d taken a look around the room. Everything was made out of some variant of an unfamiliar block, similar in look to an iron block, but with a grid pattern and a feel like glazed terracotta. The entrance was decorated beautifully with bushes of the liminalgae stuff, which broke easily beneath her fist and stacked nicely in her inventory.

Which was also how she discovered her inventory was empty.

Around then, her communicator had displayed a message from Mumbo, something about server lag. Cleo ignored it for a moment, because their inventory was empty, even their armor slots and offhand—they’d been fully prepared to go End mining, going so far as to stick a carved pumpkin on their head. It’s all gone.

Then they process that their communicator buzzed, and the fact that it’s not completely broken isn’t nearly as relieving as it could have been. They still can’t send messages out, but they can see what their friends are coordinating, and be prepared for whatever rescue entails.

Whenever rescue comes.

It doesn’t take long to get bored, which is why Cleo starts exploring, despite the fact that their F3 screen only says no, lmao. X is going to get an earful for including whatever mod this is when she gets back—

For now, they wander. They find some bizarre architecture choices, and rooms full of poolfish and liminalgae both. They discover, with a deep sense of dread, that the beautiful view of the flat ocean outside is a mirage; exploration reveals a set of windows that theoretically should point directly into another hallway, but instead show that bright blue sky. Whatever’s out there…

Well, she’ll never know what’s out there, because the block refuses to break beneath her fist, no matter how long she punches at it. Same with the walls.

For untold days, she wanders. Without her F3 screen, there’s no way to be accurate about the time she’s spent here, but it feels like a week and a half. There’d been a jolt of hope when Joe asked if someone had seen them recently—but Tango had reminded him that they were End mining, probably deep in the grind by now. It’s been a week and a half, approximately, of ankle-deep water in hallways, and deeper water in grand, open rooms, and nothing to eat but liminalgae and nothing to do but walk around and breed poolfish. They’ve been staying close to the spawn room, unwilling to lose their one known location in this unknown dimension.

Their communicator buzzes more as time passes: Doc pranking Gem, Gem killing him in revenge. Xisuma reminding everyone to avoid the world border chunks until the next update. Grian pretending to be Iskall’s conscience, teaching him how to use boats. She mutes the communicator. It hurts to see everyone this way, while she’s stuck here.

She still checks it; she's not stupid. She just… can’t keep watching the texts fly by without her.

And then she finds the pit.

It’s a room unlike any other she’s seen so far. It leads down, deeper than even the deepest pool of water she’s encountered, and it’s filled with rows of stacked arches, bridging the gap. She crouches onto one and peers down. It’s darker, but not pitch black, and there’s a pool of water at the bottom, the same shape and size as the one they originally fell into.

In her inventory, her collection of favorite poolfish squirm. Cleo’s guts match the motion, because this is obviously where the dimension intends them to go. The pit yawns before her like a beckoning, like a challenge. But there’s no blocks here, no drops from poolfish or craftables with liminalgae. If Cleo jumps down, she has no way back up.

No way save dying, drowning or starving wherever she finds herself. Because that was the other thing she’d tried, when her messages refused to send and her inventory yielded nothing. Cleo had dove down to the bottom of the spawn room pool, and pushed all the air out of their lungs, and breathed in that cool water.

It worked everywhere else. It wasn’t pleasant, but it worked, and they were a grown-up who could work with something that wasn’t pleasant.

They’d respawned in free-fall and crashed into the very pool they’d just died in.

That had been a very brutal realization: they were stuck here. And yet it feels like that realization pales in comparison to the pit before her, the pit that calls to her so tauntingly with its insinuations. That there is more to this place than white walls and fake ocean and sunlight. That there is escape, if she’s willing to fight for it. Escape that may come quicker than her friends.

Cleo has always been a fighter. But they’re smart, too. Before committing either way, they check their communicator.

Unread messages:

<GoodTimeWithScar> DONT HOTGYU ME

<Grian> get gud

<iJevin> seriously, is cleo just living in the end at this point?

<StressMonster101> Im sure theyll be back soon, luv

Without timestamps, it’s impossible to tell how recently Jev and Stress sent their messages, but they make Cleo waver. The safest option is to wait near the spawn room, where X or Joe will eventually spawn in and help her escape with their admin-y ways. With the poolfish and liminalgae, she can survive as long as necessary, although the liminalgae doesn’t seem to regrow. Still—up here, where she understands the terrain, is safest.

<iJevin> stress its been a MONTH

<iJevin> even for a megabase grind thats ridiculous

Cleo’s stomach falls out from under them.

A month?

They’ve been stuck in this endless pseudo-paradise for a month, and people are only just now worrying—

No. No, fuck this, fuck everyone except Joe who asked about them way back towards the start, except he hasn’t said anything since so actually fuck him, too. And fuck X for chatting about updates like everything’s normal, and Ren for saying innuendoes and double entendres like nothing’s wrong, and Grian and Scar for being Grian and Scar when she’s stuck in here—

Fuck Jevin especially, for saying that where they could see, where they could realize no one is coming for them.

Distantly, Cleo realizes that this is a bit much, that people do regularly go off and grind resources for absurd lengths of time, but that doesn’t stop her from beating back sobs by fostering the rage in her chest. Distantly, she realizes that this is all uncomfortably close to a breakdown, and they don’t get those. They don’t do those; they’re a fighter, someone whose first answer is violence and barbed words and arson.

So. Fuck their friends. Fuck them all. Cleo will rescue herself.

They double-check their poolfish and liminalgae count—enough to last another goddamn month, if need be—and jump into the dark waters far, far below.

#thank you tripping-sideways! cleo was not someone i would have thought to do but they're FUN #fwiw: they have actually been having a much worse time than they admit to themself. hence the IMMEDIATE descent into fury #but also like. they're smart enough to realize they're being dumb. unfortunately the one does not preclude the other.#TO BE FAIR IT'S BEEN A MONTH #in minecraft time! which is a long but not unheard of amount of time to grind resources #about the author #neverend mod au #my brain hurts too much to title this au so that's what it gets #might write other hermits experiencing neverend in the future? especially the last level #i think lots of hermits would have fun with the leviathan grandgousier is all.#hermitblr #zombiecleo #minecraft neverend

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phoneguyfanclub · 8 months

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After Bite - Phone Guy and Jeremy

Summary: The more I analyze him, the more I realize that behind that cheery facade is a terribly depressed, self-hating man. (Jeremy's thoughts after the Bite of 87.)

…

As I lie in my hospital bed, I gaze up at the ceiling, transfixed by the shapes in the ceiling. It is quiet.

Then, someone walks over.

"J-Jeremy…?"

His voice is weak, and my heart feels a tinge of pity for him.

"Excuse me, but who are you exactly?"

"I-it's me… Remember? I c-called you every night at Freddy's…"

I nod, recalling the voice. It sounded less static-y in real life. Yet full of that nerdy adorableness nonetheless.

"Ah yes. The Phone Guy."

He gripped my hand tight, as though he'd been worried about me. Why would he be worried about me? I barely remembered my last shift, and looking at the clock I realized my next one was about to start.

"Uh, dude? I think I should be getting back to-"

If there was a word for how quickly he cut me off with just stutters and word fragments, I'd use it. He seemed to be trying to tell me some horrible news but was unable to speak it. I put a hand over his hand, wanting to reassure him.

"Come on, dude. I'm the one who should be worrying. You're the one who always smiles and tells people things'll be alright." I gave a playful smirk, hoping we were close enough now for him to get the irony.

"Jeremy, I…"

He cut himself off again, his eyes glazed over with worry and guilt. What would he feel guilty about?

A hair strand was bothering my forehead, so I moved my hand to brush it away. Then I felt it. The long scar that had to be stitched up.

"Oh." I said. Not entirely sure what else to say, I stared back at him.

He squeezed my hand.

"I-I'm sorry, Jeremy! I was scared, and they were threatening my livelihood. T-they said i-if I talked, I'd be b-blacklisted from ever working again!"

"Dude…" I offered him a hug. And the Most Affectionate Man at Freddy's hugged me, but it felt so unlike him. So hollow. "You don't deserve that. You did nothing wrong…"

Shaking his head, he mumbled under his breath.

"Y-you don't k-know me, Jeremy. I'm a company spokesman… W-we're paid to lie…"

I pulled him back from me and made him look me in the eyes.

"Tell me what happened, Phone Guy. I need to know."

He nodded.

And he told me about what had happened that night. How the company wanted me to work a double shift in the morning, and the weird requirements they had for me. Wanting me to wear my uniform and stand close to the animatronics. Back then I hadn't questioned it, but if I'd been able to focus on the call more I might have noticed that something was off. During a previous night, Phone Guy had told me to stay away from the animatronics. So why would he contradict himself now?

"T-they handed me a slip of paper. I-I read off what they wanted you to do… Uh, yeah."

"Mm. I remember now. And that fox thing chomped down on me!" I laughed, despite it all. "Yeah, but it was kinda my bad too… I should have noticed your cry for help. You even told me that you'd be taking the night shift after me. Duh!"

He looked away, trying to smile a little for my benefit.

I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, dude. Don't do this… The animatronics are- You know what they're like."

For the first time, I notice how defeated he looks, all pretense gone.

"Please. Don't do it, man." I keep going, hoping I can convince him. There must be a way. "If you go back there, they'll kill you!! Come on…"

He nodded.

"I know."

I squeezed his shoulder, and he instinctively turtled with the tiniest smile on his face.

"Aw. See, it's okay… I forgive you." I released my hand from his shoulder, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "You-you don't have to do this."

He relaxed and looked at me for a moment. Almost like he was pondering something. I wished I could read his mind.

"Jeremy…?" He said at last. I nodded. "…I'm glad you're alright." He looked at the clock. "Ah. I-I have to be going soon."

"Good luck."

As I watched him leave, I felt an immeasurable sorrow. Like I hadn't done enough. What could I have done? Talking to him kindly was the only thing I felt could have worked.

He wasn't really going to take the nightshift, was he? I got up, ready to talk some sense into him.

I bumped into a nurse, who ushered me back into my room. My stitches still needed more time to heal.

"Please," I begged. "Let me talk to that man!"

"Sorry sir, visiting hours are over." She brought me back to my room.

"C-can you at least tell me his name? He was my coworker, for crying out loud."

She led me over to the guest book so we could see who signed in to see Jeremy Fitzgerald. But when we looked, the name had been blacked out. Try as we might, it was impossible to tell what had once been written there.

I felt a chill run through me as I realized he might not have been the one to do it.

#fnaf #phone guy #jeremy fitzgerald #my writing #fanfiction #five nights at freddy's #friendship #phonemy #jerephone

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ashton-ryder · 4 months

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What was the last thing you catastrophically fucked up?

sharp edges ask meme

Ashton paused, you can see his eyes glazed over the immediate answer he knows is the truth, but with a blink, the look was gone, replaced by another story, "in my first year at NYU, there was an assignment error, I was supposed to teach a particular bachelors physics module, I walked into the wrong lecture hall, it was a chemistry class sitting in front of me and their lecturer's schedule had been double booked, but apparently I was too intimidating for anyone to dare to bring it up that they were taking the wrong module. I don't know why they stuck through it, perhaps out of fear, but I didn't even realised until the twelfth week. The university gave them free credits for the extra module."

#he will never bring up the real fuck up askldhsdasd #kills the vibes #ty for the asks!! <3 #ill get to the rest next time #;memes #;answered #;more about

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hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend · 5 months

Note

A confession

Hi there! Thank you for asking. Sorry for the delay but the piece was a bit too long to format the way I like on mobile and keep my sanity. But have one of the bigger revelations in Sib's life. Also a bit of an unrefined piece. Endwalker spoilers though they're a bit vague, so just in case.

Siberite nods, following to the main meeting hall of the Baldesion Annex, her parents sitting around a small table pulled to the center of the room. Khutula locks the door as she meets her mother’s eyes hoping for some indication on what this whole thing was about, instead finding her looking just as clueless.

“Siberite,” her father greets, “good you’re here.” Lord Akagane’s right shoulder moves forward in a move that once would have his arm gesturing to the chair that sits empty on his right. He glances down at the missing limb with a frown, “Have a seat will you?”

She nods, back straight and hands folded in her lap, Khutula sitting next to her, Siberite and her mother sharing a curious look. “Please don’t take this the wrong way Khutula, but I thought you said this was a private family matter?”

Her father nods, sitting, “It is, but Khutula can help in filling in the details.”

“Details about what exactly, dear?”

The old auri sighs, looking down at the table, the lighting bringing out the grey hair that Siberite is sure has doubled since she’d last seen him. “I didn’t go to Doma for business, I went hoping to find Palladium.”

Siberite inhales sharply, having never heard her brother’s name pass her father’s lips since she was a young girl and ordered to not speak of him. She looks at Khutula sitting still, eyes cast down, her mother taking a deep breath, jaw tightening, “What do you mean, ‘find Palladium’?”

“I-. I lied to you initially about what happened with him,” her father shakes his head with a sigh, “I’m sorry.”

“Why,” Lady Akagane grinds out.

“Grief, anger, some combination of the two.”

“What happened to him,” she snaps, voice cracking, “What happened to my boy!”

Her father looks up at Khutula and then to Siberite, frown deepening seeing she has yet to change her position in any way. “Siberite you might remember this, but Khutula came back in the middle of the night bruised, bloodied, and with a broken bone or two.” She doesn’t and even if she did she wouldn’t want to, she considers it luck that the Echo hasn’t taken over. “He came begging for help, wanted me to get a few more capable fighters and go back to Doma as soon as possible.”

“The Garleans were establishing the power they came to hold, we got caught in the crossfire,” Khutula adds, “I started to fight out of self defense, Palladium worked on getting people to safety.” Lady Akagane’s eyes go wide, glazed over with tears, hands clasped to her chest, “He-. He should have stayed where he was, unlike you Sib he was fairly useless in a fight against military men.” The warrior doesn’t look up from her lap, Khutula exhaling slowly, “There was an auri family being separated, the man must have looked like he was good enough to serve in their army or do manual labor, the little girl with him clung to him so fiercely. I guess Palladium worried for the girl, because next thing I saw he was trying to fight with the soldiers.”

“They captured him after that,” her father interjects, “From what Khutula told me he tried to break in and get him back himself, only to be barred by gates that were impossible to get through after the beating he had already taken.”

“So….so he….he was alive,” her mother asks, knuckles growing white, “and you did nothing!”

“The Empire had him! They were making examples of some of their conscripts, even if he was one of the lucky ones he was as good as gone to us. No one ever came back from the Empire.”

“Until Lord Hein,” Siberite whispers, her father nodding.

“After seeing the woman you’ve become and knowing how much you looked up to him, I let myself hope that maybe he was stronger than I gave him credit for.”

“He was,” Khutula says, “He wasn’t the strongest, but he was smart and stubborn, the former saving him from the labor and military.”

“That’s right, my Palladium had just gotten his Archon tattoos,” her mother sniffs, “I had never been prouder of him.”

“From what I was able to find when looking for him, they brought him to the castle to assist in the young prince’s education.” He shakes his head, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips, “It was there his stubbornness….” Khutula glances Siberite’s way wanting to reach out and comfort her as he’d done time and again, “I heard tales you know, of how he still stood up for those he could, helped in messing with plans for a few weapons, even if it only delayed them a few days, and how he refused to teach a young Hein the propaganda the Empire wanted him to learn.”

“The conscript I talked to was in the same legion as him,” Lord Akagane continues, “Sent to the front lines after he got the wrong commander on a bad day. The more I heard about him the more I see how alike you two are….were. He hated fighting and would drop his weapon as soon as he could and help civilians.”

“And let me guess, he died doing just that,” Siberite’s mother stands quickly, eyes shut, “Don’t you dare try to tell me he died a hero when he shouldn’t have died at all,” she hisses, shooting her husband a glare. She clears her throat, smoothing out her dress, “Thank you for your input Khutula. Will you be joining me for breakfast tomorrow Siberite dear?” Siberite stays silent, her mother’s frown deepening, “See that she and Mister Waters join me tomorrow, Khutula.”

He nods, “Of course ma’am.” The woman leaves, turning on her heel and slamming the door shut making the men wince.

Her father turns to face her completely, “Say something, Siberite. Please just talk to me.”

“And say what exactly? You were the one to dictate that Palladium was never to be spoken of, but now you choose to talk about him? After all this time?”

“Siberite, I-. I was upset, mourning, filled with grief and worry for you.”

“And I wasn’t! Dad I was just a child, a child that was told to forget he ever existed. How do you think I’m going to react?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t this quiet, stoic, and emotionless daughter in front of me. You’ve always had something to say.”

“Even if I did, would it really matter to you? Or are you just trying to justify the way you handled your grief while living with the guilt that you could have done something and didn’t?” He looks at her with his mouth agape, “I don’t know what it was that you found in Doma that prompted you to tell the truth finally, but I wish you hadn’t.”

She stands, looking to follow her mother out with Khutula just behind her when her father slams his hand on the table. “I wasn’t the only one who lied to you, Siberite. I wasn’t the only one to fail him. So I shouldn’t be the only one treated like the bad guy.”

“If you really believe that mom and I are being unfair, then I suggest you take a look at your actions again.” She walks out the doors, Khutula following as she makes her way outside and towards the library. She can feel the chill on her cheeks when she finally stops at the gazebo with a heavy sigh, “You know it's both hard to believe and easy to see my brother using this same spot to study or discuss ideas with others. When you told me that one of his papers was still here in the library I stood here and tried to see if I could hear him like I did on the Steppe.”

“He gave a lesson here once, thought the student would enjoy and listen better while outdoors.” Her lips turn in a small smile, “It didn’t help. He would let me practice with weapons when outside and the kid had more interest in those than aether sciences.” He looks down at her, “You can blame me if you’d like Siberite. I could have done more, could have easily done more.”

“What happened?”

“He begged me, ordered me to come back to you first.” Siberite shuts her eyes, jaw locking as the fuzzy images come that match Khutula’s story, “He grabbed my arm, looking more determined than I had ever seen him and told me to go home. ‘If they find out who I am they could go after my family. Deciding that they have the right information to try and come for Thavnair next, dragon allies be damned. I need you to make sure Sibby is going to be okay.’, he even made the argument that if I went back and got healed up we could get more people out and back to their families. I really didn’t want to leave him behind, but he kept insisting, telling me that he would be okay. I needed to take care of you.”

“You think he knew that he wasn’t going to make it?”He shrugs, shaking his head, “Maybe. I don’t know. I think he just believed that so long as you were safe then he would be and could make it back to you.” “If you’re safe then I’m safe”, The words she once said to her mother when the skies burned red over their home have her echo with the question on if he said them to her once before or if it was merely an inherited belief. “He truly wanted nothing more at that time than to be the best older brother he could be. Wanted better for you, to see you thrive. So much so that when you were about two he made me swear and promise that should something happen to him that I would watch over you until I felt like you could stand all on your own.”

#listen keep in mind that they are 1%ers they had much at their disposal #but sad day for those women truly #siberite akagane oc #the akagane family #my wip tag #endwalker spoilers #ish just in case

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canberraglaziersau · 7 months

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6 Double Glazing Maintenance Tips to Keep Your Windows in Top Shape

Home and business owners do not want anything for their properties but to make them look good and comfortable. And if you are the same in your home, do not miss having double-glazed windows. More and more people are interested in having it because of its benefits. But if you decide to install one in your home, here are some double glazing Canberra maintenance tips you may find helpful:

Regular Cleaning

The first one on the list is regular cleaning. If you do not clean your windows, whether double-glazed or not, you will see dirt and dust buildup that could be unpleasant to the eyes. And for people who have asthma and allergies, it could be a bad thing for their health. But aside from its looks and health harm, it can also affect the performance of the windows. If it is your first time having double-glazed windows, ensure to conduct regular cleaning.

Avoid Abrasive Cleaners

Using abrasive cleaners and harsh chemicals for cleaning can cause scratches to your windows. And aside from the dirt and dust, scratches or any damage is the last thing you would ever want to see. Yes, regular cleaning is necessary, but be mindful of what you use to clean your windows. Clean water and a gentle cloth will suffice, especially if you do not have experience with maintenance. Other people use sponges, but only the soft and spongy side.

Check Seals

If you understand what double-glazed window is and how it works, you would know how important seals and gaskets are. If they have issues like cracks, wear, and gaps, it could mean something is wrong with your windows. Replacing them is the best option to ensure these problems will not occur again. If you do not know how to do the job, let the professionals handle them for proper insulation.

Condensation Management

Condensation also happens in double-glazed windows, and you need to manage them by following these steps:

Identify the Source

You should identify the source first to see where you will start the fix. You also need to ensure that there is no damage to the windows and everything is intact. If not, do not touch anything and call for the assistance of the professionals. They have the correct tools and equipment to prevent more problems from occurring.

Remove the Moisture

If you did not see any damage on the windows, you can proceed with removing the moisture. You can use an absorbent towel and see how much you can terminate. Be gentle to avoid creating scratches.

Use a Sponge

If you were unable to remove all the moisture using an absorbent towel, then try using a sponge. Squeeze it gently on the remaining moisture and start at the top to prevent streaks.

Dry and Polish

Once all the moisture is gone, dry the double-glazed window using a microfibre cloth. It is soft, so it will help clean the remaining streaks and residue.

Address Humidity

Even after the condensation is gone, do not overlook the humidity and do something about it. The most common and easiest step is to purchase an air humidifier to improve air quality and reduce indoor humidity levels.

Inspect Frames

Even if you do not feel something wrong with your windows, ensure to have them checked for any signs of damage. If you see something wrong, you can call professionals and know what you should and should not do. Some issues the frames might experience are decay and rot. If you have wooden frames, you should be mindful of these.

Avoid Slamming

If there is one rule in windows that you will always see, it is to avoid slamming it when opening and closing. Doing so can cause damage to your windows, even if they are not double-glazed. Whatever you do with it, always be careful and avoid causing unnecessary stress to the frames. Understand what double-glazed windows are to learn how to take care of them.

Maintenance can do many things for your double-glazed windows, like extend their lifespan and avoid causing accidents. It will also improve energy efficiency, making you comfortable in your home. You will see the fruits of the investment once you feel that you have peace of mind.

#doubleglazingcanberra

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justauthoring · 3 years

Text

Lost Along The Way

Prompt: Oh my you take request for Bucky? Don’t mind if I do! I would love to have some angsty little thing with him. Maybe you fight along side them against Walker (in the beginning off episode 5) and walker really hurts you or something which results in Bucky loosing his shit? I hope you are doing well and that you’re healthy✨ also I LOVE your work! Requested by @pieces-by-me thank you!

A/N: It’s about damn time I wrote for Bucky after the amazing-ness that has been FATWS (I also hope to get some Sam fics out soon). Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

How you got roped up in this, you’ll never know.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that you’d do anything, anything, for Bucky. And you’d come to accept that fact long ago.

But it didn’t erase the fear in your body as you stared back at a pair of eyes that have no trace of humanity left in them. No sort of normalcy to the crazed look in his eyes as he hovers over you, an arm pressed tightly against your neck, pressing enough for your skin to grow hot and your eyes to bulge as you desperately try to suck in what gasps of air you can.

You’re all too aware of the fact that the man could snap your neck in seconds if he wanted. Maybe even if didn’t want -- if he lost control, more so then he already had. There was a thinned out string, a roped that had been tugged and pulled so far that it was seconds away from snapping -- that being the only thing that’s stopping him from crushing your neck in seconds.

You don’t have the energy nor strength to push him away. There’s no fight left in your system even as the voice whispers in the back of your head -- I don’t want to die -- you won’t be able to get him off you. The bleeding wound on your head that had you seeing double, the numbness of your left arm, and pain seeped deep into your muscles proving that.

You didn’t want to die, but as you stared up at John Walkers face, the sweat on his skin, the way his jaw clenched, and the glazed, far gone look in his face stared back down at you, you realize you’re going to.

Your last moments, you realize with a whimper, are going to be spent staring at someone that had been given the title of Captain America. You were going to die by Captain America’s hands, and the thought of that crushes you even further as you remember Steve, remember all he’d done for you, what he means to you.

And you think it’s a particularly cruel joke that his successor will be the one who kills finishes you off.

The pressure on your neck lets up, and for split second, you find hope blooming deep inside of you. But it only lasts that long, a second, and then your eyes find the edge of the shield lined directly above you, the blood of his last victim staring mockingly down at you and you think this is far worse then it being his hands that kill you.

“Please,” you choke, voice coarse, barely audible, but you know he hears it. “Please don’t do this.”

But he doesn’t stop. His grip on that shield doesn’t lessen.

Time seems to slow, and your lips part, body slumping against the cold ground beneath you as you blink, and the image of Steve appears above you. Over you, smiling at you, holding a hand out for you, to help you, before the shield lowers and your eyes are clenching shut, scared for impact.

“No!”

The weight is off of you in seconds. It takes you a moment more before you even realize that fact, and then you’re eyes are snapping open and you’re sucking in a breath of air you had been craving for for far too long.

The sound of metal clashing against metal catches your attention, and you force your body to move, rolling on your hands as you try to push yourself up. But you can’t. You’re too injured. So all you managed is to push yourself up enough to catch sight of a familiar head of brown hair, and through blurred vision you watch as Bucky tackles John to the ground, the sickening sound of his vibranium arm hitting him directly in the cheek.

Bucky fights with a certain fervor he hadn’t had before, something you’re sure you’ve never seen him have before. He’s ruthless, and suddenly it’s like his strength doubles as he doesn’t let Walker get in a single second of rebound. He’s cold, harsh, and every hit he lands smacks with a certain ferocity that has you frightened.

Sam is running towards the two of them in the next second.

And as you watch, the strength in the battle shifting to a place you’re sure they’re winning, you realize this is far beyond what you could’ve ever expected. This is something far darker, far too twisted for you to have ever expected. There’s so much anger, so much blood, and everything’s happening so fast.

You remember after the blip, the loneliness, the fear that every seemed to walk around with -- you thought it could never get worse then that.

You’d never been more wrong.

When it’s done, and the thud of the shield falling by Sam’s feet snaps you out of your own revere, it takes you a second to realize that Bucky’s making his way toward you.

He helps you to your feet, silently, pressing a hand to the bleeding wound on your forehead that you shrug off, letting him lead you out. Not a word is shared between the two of you.

He’d attacked John like that, with so much anger, because of you, you knew. Because Walker had nearly killed you. It became more then just getting the shield then, you knew, at least for Bucky.

And somehow, in some twisted, sick sort of way, you’re happy that he’d do anything for you as well.

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animensfw-smut · 3 years

Note

Hey honey so I’m a horrible person so can you do one where Deku Todoroki and Bakugo and drilling the shit out of me and someone else is there and it’s supposed to be a 5Some but Deku Todoroki and Bakugo keeps turning all of their attention on me and the extra person feels really left out. Can the extra person be anyone but Mina, because I love her so much. You do not have to do this this makes you uncomfortable I am so sorry 😐😩

You're fine! But I'll have to change the plot slightly since I don't do other female characters in my fanfics so I hope you don't mind. I chose denki to be the 5th person! “Pikachu, i choose you!” Lololol I’ve barely watched Pokemon so don’t come for me for getting it wrong 🤣😂

WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+, fivesome, masturbation, oral, double penetration, exhibitionism, voyeurism, spanking, overstimulation.

Note: I actually started writing about Kirishima in the first few paragraphs, and had to change it to Todoroki XD.

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*Second pov*

“Yeah, that’s it baby girl, scream my name~” Bakugo’s husky voice echoed in your ear. You tried to comprehend whether it was really Bakugo, not being able to make sense of anything with Bakugo drilling into you from behind and Shoto laying beneath you, pushing into you from the front. Your mouth wrapped around Deku’s thick cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. Bakugo and Shoto’s groans were in sync as their dicks rubbed against each other each time they entered you.

Your hands fiddled with Shoto’s chest, teasing and pinching his nipples as you continued to take Deku all the way in your mouth. Your eyes flicked to a certain figure, sat on the bed whose eyes roamed over your figure as you were fucked by Shoto, Bakugo and Deku. Denki’s hands were wrapped around his cock, his thumb rubbing the tip and smearing the precum all over his length. His other hand massaged his balls, groping them and thrusting his hips into his hand harshly. Your eyes made contact with his, the sexual look he gave you making you tighten around Bakugo and Shoto.

“Shit, you really like him looking at you, don’t you?” Bakugo growled in your ear, his hand making contact with your ass. You jolted forward, your nose pressing against Deku’s pelvis, his balls slapping your chin. Shoto’s hands pressed into your thighs, allowing you to keep your balance. Your fingers had pinched Shoto’s swollen nipples a little too harshly making him let out a low growl. His voice nearly sent you over the edge.

Deku’s hands pushed your head to take his length, his hips pushing himself further in your mouth, fucking your face. He let out a breathy moan as he stared at your fucked out expression, your pretty mouth stretched to the max to take him all in.

“You gonna drink all my cum like a good girl?” You hummed, giving him a lustful expression. His cock continuously glided along your tongue, the heavy weight of it making your jaw ache. Deku’s length throbbed, his fingers at the back of your head allowing him to bury his cock into your throat. The tightening and warmth around his cock sent hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat. Tears sprung to your eyes at the burning sensation, your stomach turning into knots before you released your juices all over Shoto and Bakugo, the tightening of your cunt making Bakugo bite your shoulder to stop himself from cumming on the spot. The heavy weight of Deku’s cock was gone, his fingers stretching your mouth wide open,

“Such a pretty mouth~ You even drank it all~” Deku gave you a kiss on the forehead, resting his body on the king-sized bed as he continued to watch Shoto and Bakugo fuck you.

Your arms wrapped around Shoto’s neck, your lips plastering hickeys all over his skin, trailing down to his nipples. You took the bud in your mouth, your lips wrapping around it and sucking, drool escaping from your mouth and coating his nipple.

“Mngh... S-Stop, (y-y/n)... Nn~” His hips thrusted rapidly, his hands pressing your hips to his body as he thrusted. You didn’t listen, sucking the sensitive skin harder. Shoto let out a loud groan, shivering as his cock seemed to go harder at the nipple teasing. Your tongue left continuous licks against his hardened bud, sending the pleasure straight to his cock.

“Gonna c-cum...! S-Stop...” Shoto whined, tugging on your hair gently.

“Just do it, mngh... Fuckin’ icy hot...” Bakugo was struggling to speak with the way you were clamping down on both of them. His tongue licked a stripe up the back of your neck as he groped your breasts from behind, his thumbs pressing against your buds,

“Your tits are so fuckin’ pretty~” His hands squeezed your tits roughly, his hips slamming into your cunt. The sudden violent movements made Shoto cum as Bakugo’s cock rubbed against his. The friction was too much for him, his warmth filling your stomach. Your lips let out a ‘pop’ as you released his nipples, your drool glistening against his chest. Shoto’s face was flushed red as he tried to catch his breath. However, Bakugo wasn’t done yet. He dragged your hips back to meet his thrusts, entering deeper inside you. You let out a strangled moan as Bakugo violently fucked you, dragging his cock along your tight walls. The friction affected Shoto, his cock still buried in your cunt.

“Ngh... B-Bakugo...! S-Stop...” He was overstimulated at ths point, gripping your thighs to stop his cum from filling you up again. Shoto closed his eyes, biting his lip at the overwhelming sensation.

“Heh, can’t take it, icy hot?” Bakugo’s chest pressed against your back firmly, his hands pressing against the mattress as he mounted you, pushing his thick cock into you over and over again. The tip even brushing against your cervix as he thrusted harder into your cunt.

“M’cumming, B-Baku--” You were cut off by your own moan as your whole body twitched, your thighs shaking as you released, your cum splashing over Shoto. Shoto couldn’t help but cum again, filling you with another load of his cum, this time, the warmth making Bakugo cum as well, his cock releasing his hot semen into your cervix.

With shaking legs, you got off Shoto after Bakugo had pulled out of you. The overwhelming amount of cum dripped down your legs and onto the bed as you sat up straight. Denki had been quiet the whole time, observing your expressions and the way your body moved as you were fucked. You leaned back against your hand as your other hand spread your labia apart. It was such a lewd sight with cum dripping out of your hole,

“Denki~” You moaned his name, your fingers dipping into your cunt and messing around with the mixed cum. He gulped, his cock red and throbbing with the need to release.

“Shit, you’re so beautiful...” He crawled towards you, his eyes glued to your cunt. He stopped right in front of you, admiring the view. Your eyes were glazed over as you placed your hands on his shoulders, your breasts right against his face as the tip of his cock slid into your wripping cunt. The fluid leaked onto his lap as you slowly took him in. Denki was such a perv, it was his dream to bury his face into your breasts and the opportunity appeared before him. He took no time to nuzzle his nose into your breasts, his fingers gripping the flesh with a sense of roughness. You bounced on his cock, your thighs squeezing around his legs each time his cock rubbed against your walls. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, pushing him against your breasts more. The other three were masturbating to the scene, their hands wrapped tightly against their length. Bakugo’s hands occasionally squeezed his length as he pumped his cock to mimick the way your cunt wrapped around his cock.

“Denki, Denki, Denki~” He sucked on your nipple as if he was a baby trying to get milk from their mother. His hand was rubbing your breast, squeezing it harshly making you clench around his dick. His hips thrusted up, desperate to make you cum with him and to fill you up like the other three had done.

“Ah...! Mnnn...!” His fingers sent little sparks to your breasts, and you moaned loudly, his fingers soon occupying your mouth, your drool coating the digits. Your tongue messily moved around his fingers, swirling around them and your lips sucked on them. He groaned, the sensation on his fingers making him imagine lewd stuff, his cock growing impossibly harder. He rolled his hips to meet your bounces, squashing his face against your breasts yet again as thick spurts of his cum shot into your cunt. He didn’t bother warning you, admiring the surprised expression you had, your movements stilling as you came for the umpteenth time.

After your high, you collapsed against him, your body too tired after being fucked so many times. The sheets were dirty, everything inside your cunt leaking everywhere. The sight was so hot, Bakugo shamelessly took a picture of your cunt, dripping with his cum mixed with the other’s, and made it his home screen wallpaper.

“K-Kacchan...!” Bakugo gave Deku a glare,

“What.”

“N-No, nothing...”

“Bakugo. Send me the picture too.” Shoto’s blunt voice shocked Deku. He didn’t realise Shoto would be this kind of person.

“No.”

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A/N

As always, i hope you enjoyed this!!!

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kiridarling · 3 years

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𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐒 𝐔𝐏!

shouto todoroki | f!reader, ceo heir!shouto, mirror sex, hair pulling, choking, inappropriate use of showerhead, alcohol. minors dni!

— 3k words

"You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

Miss Y/N,

I couldn't help but notice the latest project my father assigned is extremely difficult. If I'm going to be completely honest, you'll work yourself to death at this rate, and your greys double by the day. Drinks on me at Club 777 at 7 pm. Sound like a deal?

— shouto todoroki

“A club.”

“Glad you could make it,” Shouto gives you a small smile; it’s anything but hostile. And yet, that’s all yours is as you assume the space to his right in the velvet crescent booth. “I hope it wasn’t too hard to find. Club 777 is pretty popular around he—what are you doing.”

As your fingers fly across the keyboard, you give him an indignant huff, the screen highlighting the underside of your face electric blue as you continue hacking away at your presentation. If you’re going to be forced to go out, you’re going to make the most of it—and that’s by getting the work that you would be getting done at home, at a club. And a rather loud one, at that.

"You're a workaholic," he observes with a sigh, and you flash him a fat sarcastic smile. Stupid fucking CEO heirs and their entitlement.

"Congrats, you've solved everything! Can I go home, now?"

"No," Shouto frowns before he rudely snaps your laptop shut and sets it to his right. Pushing a plate of clear-colored shots your way, your eyes bulge—there have got to be at least fifteen. "Drink up—it'll take the edge off."

You blink between your coworker and the shots. You trust Shouto and you've known each other for a while...somewhat. His father is your boss, and with Shouto as the next in line you’ve got no choice but to play nice. He’s as cocky as he is aloof, but you suppose he’s fine overall—and he's seen you break your back over this project for a solid month and a half. Positive you won't be able to keep your conscious from running laps over all the work you have to do otherwise, you snatch the first shot and chuck it down your gullet with worrying enthusiasm. Shouto lifts an eyebrow and you reach for another.

"Thirsty?" He chuckles, before grabbing a shot for himself. The second shot burns, but never as much as the first, and the back of your hand catches what doesn't make it into your mouth as you say:

"More than you could think."

"And then—and then I was like, um no sir, I think you got my change wrong by at least five bucks! He didn't believe me, like at all."

"Did he make a fuss of it?"

"Of course."

"That means he has a small dick," Shouto advises with the second to last shot in his hand, wrist-watch glinting in the club light. His face is a deeper red than his hair and you've never noticed how nice a suit fits him as if you don't see him in one every day. You giggle at that, too far gone yourself to be offended on the stranger's behalf. Shouto's jacket drapes over your shoulders like an oversized blanket even though you bickered about not being cold, with enough alcohol in your veins to warm a village.

"Probably," you rest your head against the crescent booth, dismissive at the softness from the red velvet that’s probably ruining your hair. "Either way, I pulled a Karen and called the manager on 'em.

Shouto nods, "As you should. Once I tricked my father into thinking he had a very unhappy customer by sending him a million emails from 'John Appleseed' and calling his personal secretary twice as much."

You cackle, throwing yourself across the table at the thought of your Boss’ face hot and red with anger (as it does.) Shouto's loved nothing more than to make his animosity against his father well-known—to you, at least—and to say bored Heir been getting creative the past few months is an understatement. "Oh fuck—when'd you stop calling?"

Shouto shrugs, muscles rolling underneath his white dress shirt, "Once I filled his voicemail box.”

He holds a smile, small and distant, as he watches you wheeze as if he just told the funniest story in the world. In your defense, Shouto's never really been a funny guy, but he does funny things. Like when he stares at you when he doesn’t think you notice, or when he gets so close your chests nearly touch, but doesn't notice it. Doesn't point it out, at least. You find your laugh dying along with the smile on his face, though, and when he says nothing afterward but stare.

"...Shouto?" You snap in his face to make sure he's still in there—but it's hard to tell, with his glazed eyes and scarily steady breathing. His arms find either side of you, and you're too tipsy to realize you've been caged against the booth until it's too late.

"Your eyes are quite mesmerizing, Miss Y/N," he marvels. You can smell the vodka on his breath, and positive that compliment would’ve set your face aflame if the alcohol hadn’t already, any hints of cherry obscured by the neon club lights.

"I—um, thank you," you giggle, and if you were sober, you'd shoot yourself in the foot for reacting like a school girl. But you suppose you can give yourself some leeway—this is Shouto Todoroki after all, and for some reason, he's complimenting you. "You...you aren't too bad yourself."

"You wouldn't mind if I got a little closer, would you?" Though Shouto holds a cheeky half-drunken smile on his own, knowing any closer will result in nothing but a kiss and perhaps a little more. His eyes flicker to your lips the same time yours flicker to his, and you and you catch a heat in his eyes you didn’t notice before.

"Not at all."

You blink and Shouto's lips are on yours. They’re soft, painfully so, and it's clear he knows what he's doing—with his hands dropping to your waist and tilting his head ever-so-slightly to the right. Nudging your lips open, his tongue easily finds it's way around, mapping the insides of your mouth and taking note of what makes you shiver the most.

Shouto tastes like vodka. It's a familiar taste, one that you associate with seven minutes in heaven and quick make-out sessions in high school—and yet this time it spurs your heart to beat faster, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in even closer, as if it's possible.

When you pull away it’s clear neither of you really want to, but unfortunately you need to oxygen to live, chest heaving in unison as your eyes catch his own. Shouto's grip tightens around your waist as he licks over his already wet lips, glossed by what you assume is your spit.

“You’re one dangerous woman,” he rasps with swollen lips. You giggle, but you know he knows his words’ effect on you because goosebumps are impossible to hide.

“Thank you,” you respond, a bit awkwardly—because what else are you supposed to say?

"I'm positive it isn't the alcohol talking when I say I want to take you right here." Shouto growls as his eyes hold you in your seat. You shiver, the request sounding impossibly inviting, and your thighs discreetly rub together to take the edge off a bit.

"Bathroom," you breathe against his lips, this night turning for the most unexpected.

"Off, off, get all of this off," Shouto pants the moment you two step into a gender-neutral singles bathroom. You don't doubt they made it gender-neutral for this exact reason, but that thought leaves as quickly as it enters when Shouto pins you against the sink starts to pepper hot kisses down your neck. He scrambles to bunch your dress to your waist over taking it off completely and growls at the sight of your lower-half in absence of your usual attire.

"Do you know how long I've wanted you? Hmm?” He's breathless as he settles between your legs with a lick of his lips, pushing the excess of your dress into your hands. You really don't know how long he’s wanted you, but you find yourself biting your lip at the prospect anyway—that you've been driving your boss's son, your future boss, just as crazy as he's been driving you.

"Shouto—"

"Shhh," he interrupts, pulling your panties to the side. "Let me take care of you. You've been working hard these past few months, no?"

You guess so.

Either way, all clarity dies when Shouto licks a fat stripe up your slit, chuckling when you slide a tentative hand into his hair. Your grip tightens when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, slipping a finger between your folds to elicit a whimper or two. He bites his lip when you tug a little.

"Keep doing that and you just might ruin me," Shouto groans, before his mouth returns and he’s adding another finger. When the digits curl just right, your hips buck in faint frustration—they're moving too slow.

"Can you, um," you blush, eyes skittering to the bathroom walls instead. The club music permeates despite the fact that they look like they're made of solid brick, vibrating the floor and sink underneath you both. "Go faster?"

Shouto's eyes snap to yours. For a second you’re afraid he's going to say no, but he tosses your leg over his shoulder and adjusts your hips until they're at a perfect level, licking his lips and growling:

"My pleasure."

You're positive whoever loiters near the bathroom door hears your yelp as his mouth descends to devour your pussy, eating you so enthusiastically that you see you're slick smeared across his pink cheeks. Shouto pulls your hips deeper into his face with a defiant growl and you have to drop your forearms on the sink to keep yourself from falling to the hard ground, your grip around the porcelain ever-tightening.

"Feel good?" He rubs a heavy thumb over your clit in place of his mouth and stuffs you with a third finger. You nod with a broken moan as he pulls his digits out all the way out before burying them knuckle-deep again, grasp on the sink slipping. He flicks your clit, "Answer me."

"Y-Yeah," you nod again, near-hyperventilating. You’re sure Shouto’s getting a kick out of it—at least, if his chuckle has anything to say about it.

"Good girl," he coos, the circles on your clit slowly quickening, "You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

You're nodding along with him, though you're not exactly sure why—but then his mouth returns and suddenly, why doesn't matter as much.

Shouto's more vocal than you expected, groaning into your sweetness as your thighs trembles next to his head. He holds you like you're precious, like you're actually something to him, but you're much too drunk to unpack all of that right now. Instead, you tug at his hair. It pulls a much louder moan from his gut and you find yourself enjoying the vibrations, yanking harder to hear him again.

"W-Wait, Shouto," you whimper out, painfully close as you pull at his hair but this time to pull him away from you, "I wanna—wanna cum on your cock...if that's okay."

Shouto blinks once, twice, and then you're staring at yourself in the mirror listening to him frantically undoing his belt, cursing when the metal slaps him across the palm. You giggle.

"Eager, are we?"

"You don't even know," he pants, and the tip of his cock kissing your entrance has you biting your lip. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and they melt when he fits the head of his cock inside, the grip he has on the porcelain sink turning white as he pushes further.

"You are—you are painfully tight, Miss Y/N," Shouto wheezes into your neck, teeth grit as his pelvis finally brushes against your ass. You resist the urge to wheeze with him, his cock filling you to the point where your lungs struggle to find room to breathe.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you joke, eyes fluttering shut. Shouto tuts, grabbing the underside of your face as he says:

"Eyes open, Miss Y/N. I want you to watch yourself fall apart as I fuck you."

Your eyes peel open, albeit reluctantly as you whine, not understanding why you need to watch your own face when you can enjoy the sight of him instead, "But Shouto, that's embarrassing..."

"Just trust me," he grunts, and his hips are snapping into yours, sending you jolting into the sink to the point where you have to brace a hand on the mirror to keep yourself from being squished flat against the porcelain. Shouto leans over, "You trust me, don't you?"

And well. When he puts it like that...

"Look at yourself, not at me," Shouto says, catching you redhanded. You whine when the hand holding your head moves to your neck and squeezes, cutting off your oxygen supply just enough for your eyelids to drop halfway. "See? See how good you look? So wrecked for me already and we've barely started."

"S-Shut up," you moan more than you say, finding yourself mesmerized in the way your lips part and by the redness of your cheeks. Shouto dips his head into your neck and sucks, prompting your free hand to find his multicolored hair again and pull. His reaction is almost automatic, the way the smooth rock of his hips changes into a quick snap in a heartbeat. It has you keening, his cock reaching places spots you weren't aware you had, and he crushes you against the sink to rub at your clit.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous for me," he grunts, hips finding the energy to pick up the pace. You whimper and he's sucking a hickey into your neck, hot breaths punctuating along with his sharp thrusts. "Feel so good around my cock, like you were made for me—shit—"

This time you break the rules, eyes flickering to look Shouto in the mirror as you watch him come undone. His hips stutter as he muffles a broken moan in the back of your neck, body shuddering while he fills you up. His thrusts slowly dissolve into nothing and soon it's just your heavy breathing between brick walls, until Shouto pulls out with a hiss.

"You didn't cum."

"O-Oh, um," You blink at his unimpressed gaze through the mirror as if you got caught redhanded. "I...usually can't. Without a vibe.”

Shouto hums at that but says nothing. You watch something in his brain churn, eyes surveying the room before a lightbulb appears above his head and he's snapping his fingers.

"The shower."

"...What?"

"The. Shower." Shouto says, a little cheekier this time, as he guides you towards a simple shower hidden behind a curtain. Now, why there’s a shower in a club bathroom is beyond you.

"Well. This seems awfully convenient," you click. Shouto shrugs.

"Sun (the author) says it's to clean up the drunks who vomit all over themselves." He takes the only shower seat available, back pressing against the tile.” I think she just wants you to ride a showerhead ****if I'm being completely honest."

"Maybe she tried it for the first time recently or something,” you hum absentmindedly, but that thought flies out the window as Shouto grunts:

"Either way, it's irrelevant. Strip."

"I—completely?" You exclaim, covering your body despite the fact that it's already covered by your dress again. Shouto raises an eyebrow, settling both elbows on his knees once grabbing the showerhead from its bar.

"Unless you want your outfit to get soaking wet, yes. Completely."

Touché.

You're naked fairly quickly and Shouto lays you across the tile even quicker. You watch him test the different modes on his hand, before choosing the one with the most...gusto. You spread your thighs and fight the embarrassing blush dusting your cheeks from the exposing position.

"Ready?" You roll your eyes.

"I swear Shouto, if you do—o-oh."

He presses the rushing water to your clit, and you have to take a step back, fully unprepared for how nice the pressure would feel. Shouto chuckles at that, the soles of his loafers soaking in the lukewarm water with you as he sits with his legs spread, brazenly enjoying the view.

"Feels good?"

You nod, hips subtly grinding into the hot stream. Shouto bites his lips at the view and it turns you on that much more to know you can have such an effect, before his free hand drops to his palm himself through his dress pants.

"I get the perfect view, too," Shouto growls to himself, tilting his head ever-so-slightly as you release a broken moan, bare hips stuttering against the tile. "A perfect view of that pretty little pussy. Ah ah, keep those legs for me."

Your inner thighs quiver with an impending orgasm, the edge looking much closer than it did previously. The combination of Shouto's words, his sounds, and the steady beat of the water against your clit is enough to have anyone shaking, and the only complaint you have is that you wish he wasn't so fucking far.

"S-Shouto," you whimper, hands scrambling across the slippery tile. "I'm close."

"Yeah? Do it then, make me proud," Shouto growls with a feral smile, grip tightening around his cock—you nod, chest shuddering.

“Y-Yeah just adjust the—oh fuck, Shou, right there!”

Your thighs clench as you gasp and your fingernails dig into the grout between the tile as you orgasm, your moan nearly bordering on a scream. Shouto groans, grip tight on his cock through his damp suit pants, and you nearly giggle as your high ebbs.

“Have I ever told you how dangerous you are, Y/N?” Shouto says cheekily. You grin back, cocking your head to the right.

“Only a million times.”

“Well then I owe it to you again,” he says lowly, and you get the message you two aren’t done as he joins you on the wet floor to cradle your jaw.

“You’re one dangerous woman, Y/N.”

a/n: i fully expose myself in this, and you know what? i'm fine with that.

click to return to CLUB 777

#— 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎 #CLUB 777 #The VIP Booths #todoroki smut #shouto smut #bnha smut #mha smut

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

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Coffee & Meetings

Relationship: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!Reader Warnings: stalking, drugging TW, manipulation, Summary: Prequel to Pastries & Memories - Bucky sees you day after day at a bakery and decides you’re just perfect for him. All from Bucky’s POV. A/N: someone suggested this on ao3 and i really liked that idea so I hope i did it well! I am thinking about expanding this to a bit of a mini-series... :)

Masterlist

Six months earlier…

He first saw you on a Monday. A bright, sunny, lovely Monday morning. He hadn’t even been looking for you — hell, he hadn’t really been looking for anyone.

Bucky was planted at a little table in the corner of a coffee shop, sipping on a dark roast, watching people come and go on the sidewalk. It had become his new morning routine, an interesting yet annoying suggestion from his therapist. She had become concerned he was too into his previous routine. She wanted him to step out of it for a bit, expand horizons, maybe even find a hobby. The craziest thing he had done yet was this — drinking overpriced coffee at a local shop.

He had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes he looked forward to this new start to his day. Everyone at the shop was always nice to him, amazingly. They didn’t mind him dilly-dallying, nursing his coffee, as he people watched. They even had a bakery attached which was part of the attraction to the place for Bucky. He had smelled their pastries one morning and was hooked.

As Bucky sat watching the people, he was contemplating getting an almond croissant to go when something caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, like a little flash, he had seen someone that made him perk up.

It was her. It was you. You were standing in front of the bakery entrance debating on going in. You looked between the coffee and the bakery sign. You checked your phone then you walked in. Bucky watched as you entered the bakery, your face bright with the kindest smile he had ever seen as you greeted the cashier. He didn’t have to hear your voice to know it was contagiously joyous.

You were like a little tease standing around all those baked goods, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you pointed at which donut you wanted. Bucky suddenly felt hungry for something else. Especially when you bent over to point at the strawberry glaze on the bottom row.

But then you were gone as fast as you had come. He watched you from the window as you got back on the path to wherever you were headed, he guessed your job. Your hair blew in the wind. Your skirt bounced as you walked proudly, your hand grasping the box of donuts tightly.

Oh, yeah, Bucky thought, this new routine was definitely what he needed.

***

You quickly became the most exciting part of Bucky’s day.

With his cup of coffee and hawk-like gaze, he’d sit at the little coffee shop table, watching the world outside the window. You’d come strolling by fairly early, looking so classy and professional. He figured you worked in an office which seemed very unnecessary for a girl like you. You didn’t need to work, he decided. You were too beautiful, clearly too bright, for that.

But you never seemed to recognize this yourself since you were constantly strutting past in your blouse and skirt, stopping in every day to collect some new pastry for your coworkers.

The way you talked to the bakery staff was what really won Bucky over. You were so gentle and patient when the kid behind the counter fumbled with the boxes or accidentally grabbed the wrong item. You’d still shoot them your lovely smile and make light conversation as they rang you up.

You were too generous, especially noted by the strawberry cake you had purchased one more for your work. Whoever was on the other end of your kindness better appreciate it, Bucky thought. He also didn’t miss your obvious love for strawberries.

Bucky watched you for a while, almost for two whole months, in that coffee shop seat drinking in every inch of you. The baristas didn’t seem to mind his lingering. He always made sure to order two cups as some sort of compensation for letting him sit there and watch his girl. Yes — his girl, that was what he had marked you as in his mind. You hadn’t noticed him yet but Bucky wasn’t sweating it. All in due time, he silently promised you.

It took Bucky a few days to gather what was needed. You still weren’t noticing him but he was way past being bothered by that. He had been screwed by life enough to know that sometimes you just have to take what you want. Sitting around waiting and hoping was for men who had patience. He was over it. Little worked out for him so now he had to make it work.

The morning of the commencement of the plan, Bucky stood in his kitchen double-checking the items needed. Content with it, he carefully drew up the correct amount of light sedation into the syringe. It wasn’t anything crazy and apparently affected the mind first, body second. You’d be on autopilot for a bit, walking more like someone who was just having a rough day. But that wouldn’t be an issue because Bucky would be there. He’d be able to escort you to his apartment, simply appearing as the concerned, protective boyfriend among the sidewalk pedestrians. He got a bit giddy just thinking about it.

Moments after you were properly sedated, he’d need to administer you another drug in a timely manner. This one would be focused on memory loss. He’d discovered it on some corner of the black market while originally on the look for types of sedation. Apparently, this drug was part of some sort of failed spy mission in Europe. The seller swore it boasted good results, citing studies conducted. Bucky looked into it and agreed. After some clumsy navigation in the world of online shopping, it was his within a few days. The concoction seemed like it would do that job.

The goal was to pretty much scramble your brain just a little bit. Nothing crazy like making you totally forget key components of yourself but still hit a point where you didn’t have enough to fight Bucky’s word on, well, anything. This drug wore off, though, so he would have to come up with ways to get it in your system over the course of your relationship. It was still worth it to him. He wasn’t stripping you off your personality, just some little details here and there. You’d still be his shining girl, just only now focused on him.

The final items laid out were various feet of rope. Bucky was being overly cautious with this. He didn’t know if anything actually was going to work. What if you woke up and realized you weren’t in your apartment? That you were being watched over by a stranger? You were bound to panic but he understood that. If need be, he could restrain you while he figured out the right way to go about it all. It would never be to hurt you, of course — in fact, he felt it was more for your safety than anything.

After another run of the mental checklist, Bucky gathered the syringe and headed out to the coffee shop. The idea was fairly simple. After you came in for a box of pastries, he’d head out behind you, try to chat you up a bit. He had some old moves he could flex. Once you got comfortable enough, he’d make the move and then lights out. By the end of that day, you’d be making yourself comfortable in his apartment.

Bucky practically fawned over the idea as he walked. He had taken some steps earlier in the week to add some things for you in the apartment like ladies’ toiletries and new outfits. He had even finally purchased a real couch. All for you, so you could have a home. A real home. With him.

Bucky was still lost in his daydream as he sat in the coffee shop, looking between the clock and the window. He waited and waited and waited. The syringe growing heavier and heavier in his pocket as the seconds went by.

The clock struck a new hour. Something Bucky never planned for was unfolding: it didn’t look like you were coming today. He almost about lost it there. Almost went into the streets stomping away in anger. Everything was perfect, how could you just be the only missing piece? Did something happen? Were you okay? Gosh, he should’ve got to you sooner—

Your hair suddenly came into view. You were walking furiously, just glancing at the bakery this time before deciding not to go in. You looked anxious which certainly wasn’t like you. He wanted to crush whatever was making you feel such a way. But Bucky had to snap his thoughts back. You weren’t coming into the bakery. He wouldn’t be able to follow you out, to casually build-up to this moment. His heart was pounding. He panicked.

In a moment of stupid impulsivity, Bucky quickly left the coffee shop and began racing to catch up to you. He took long strides, quite amazed by how fast you walked in those heels, but it didn’t take him very long to now be right on your tail. Few more steps and he was able to pop up right in front of you. You jumped at his sudden presence. Bucky smiled, finding you so amusing.

"Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I think you dropped something." He lied through his teeth so gloriously, way too easily. It was just the right comment to get you to stop in your tracks but didn’t completely scare you off.

Your brows furrowed, adorably confused. You looked down, searching for whatever it could be. "I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I did."

Sir. The word stuck with him a bit. Maybe after some coaxing, you could always be calling him that. Bucky didn’t have much time to think about this, though, as you began to step around him. You had taken his moment of silence as a way to evade him. Smart, but frustrating. A mix of annoyance and anger shot through him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into him quickly. You let out a yelp in surprise. He ignored it and before you could ask any questions, the syringe was plunged into your neck. To outsiders, it looked like a couple in some weird embrace, but to Bucky, it was just the beginning of something beautiful.

He got you back to his apartment fairly easily after that. You were eventually out cold and the next step of the process could begin. He was pretty much banking on the memory loss solution. Not a very religious man, Bucky still said a silent prayer as he administered it.

He took a step back from his bed, watching you look so at home knocked out on it. It was a wonderful sight, one he was saving in the back of his mind, even though he’d now see it every single day. Feeling quite content with how smoothly that all had gone, he had nothing to do now but wait for you to wake up.

Bucky took this free time as a chance to begin cutting off connections you had. Thankfully, your bag held your laptop along with other necessities like your phone and wallet. He was pretty thankful he wouldn’t have to try to get into your work to grab your devices. That would rely too heavily on whether or not you overshared. No one would believe he was the concerned boyfriend if just last week you ranted about how single you were.

Sliding onto a stool at his kitchen counter, Bucky set up your laptop. The first thing he noticed was your lack of password. You were too trustful, too good, and that was only example A. Bucky suddenly felt so relieved he had you in the safety of his apartment. There were lunatics out there.

Bucky navigated your laptop fairly easily. While he was pretty new to the technology scene, he could at least find the basics and you weren’t exactly running some government-level device. With a few simple taps and clicks, he was writing out messages to your boss and family.

He put in your letter of resignation, something short and vague, to your boss at the public relations firm you were an assistant at. Lower level work, not even anywhere near the big dogs. No wonder you constantly brought in treats for everyone. You were hoping your kindness would get you ahead. Bucky shook his head at your naivety.

A simple Google search showed him you were not the only assistant to the head of the firm. You probably wouldn’t be missed. The pastries, maybe, but you? An assistant? Someone would take your place within the week. Bucky was turning out much better for you than he had realized. He mentally patted himself on the back as he moved onto looking into your family.

Scrolling through your email contacts, it appeared you only had a sister for immediate family. No mentions of parents and… sure enough, another search brought up an obituary for your mother. No mention of a father. Even better, he thought. You needed that strong, guiding force.

A few scrolls through your current email thread with your sister and Bucky found out she was studying abroad. Could this all get any better? Nothing was in the immediate area of a threat. He responded back to the last email your sister had sent. Copying your language the best he could, he dropped some hints that you wanted a vacation. In just a few more exchanges he could drop the news that you were off in paradise. Correspondence could easily fizzle out and your sister would be too caught up in her European dream to notice an absence.

If this ever called for any more attention, Bucky figured he could easily invite her over. It’d take some training but you’d eventually remember your sister — or, what Bucky would plant in your head about her — then you’d happily host a dinner. Introduce your two favorite people to one another. He bought himself enough time to spend with you.

Of course, Bucky realized he got very lucky with you. He had done some minimal research beforehand but everything had been behind sign-in walls. He didn’t know if he was really ready to break into social media and instead decided to risk it. If all had gone to shit, like you having a real big, caring family or a prestigious job, there wasn’t anything a little talking couldn’t fix.

But Bucky had also kind of already knew you as he watched you day in and day out. He had felt that dire need to be comforted, to be loved, to be cared for, to be protected behind those cheery smiles and generous small talk. You always tried too hard as if you needed everyone in the world to love you, to praise you. That wasn’t it at all. You just needed him. And he needed you.

Lost in his dreamy thoughts, Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin (leave it to you to be the first person to actually scared him) when your soft voice called from the bedroom doorway.

"Excuse me," You said, nervously fidgeting as you slowly walked from the hall into the kitchen. "W-What’s going on?"

Bucky shut your laptop quickly and hopped down from the stool. He gave you a warm smile which you seemed to try to return. So obedient and caring already and you didn’t even know why — yet.

"Hey, doll," he said, keeping his voice steady and gentle. "You okay? You laid down for a nap earlier. I was worried you were getting sick." He placed a hand on your forehead pretending to check your temperature. Thankfully, you allowed it. After a moment, he pulled his hand away with a curious hum.

You frowned, obviously confused, much more than you were earlier. You looked totally clueless at the situation. It was the best reaction Bucky could’ve ever hoped for.

You glanced around the living space. "I- Yeah, I think I’m alright… I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember much. Who are you?"

Bucky chuckled, "I’m your boyfriend. Bucky. And this is our apartment. You remember, don’t you, honey? Maybe you’re just still a bit sleepy."

He watched as you blinked a few times, probably wrestling with whether to admit you really didn’t remember anything or to go with the lie. If you were a good girl, like he predicted, you’d settle with the lie.

"Oh." You bit your lip and eventually nodded. Jackpot. "Of course. Again, I’m sorry. I must’ve been really tired." You glanced over at the clock. It read just before noon. "I’m a bit hungry. Would you like anything, B-Bucky?"

He smiled. "A sandwich would be great, doll."

You nodded once in acknowledgment then began hunting for everything you needed in the kitchen. You looked a bit confused at first but slowly Bucky saw you get the hang of it. He took his place at the kitchen counter again, sliding the laptop out of your sight.

He sat there waiting and observing as his new girl began making him lunch. It was a sight he had dreamed of, but Bucky also knew this was too perfect too soon. You were bound to stumble within time but that was okay. He would have to fine-tune the details later but he was already complying some ideas on how to shape you into who you were destined to be.

Yes, he had a long way to go, but it would all be worth it if he got to come home to you standing in his kitchen whipping up a special treat like the sweetest housewife to ever exist. Because that certainly would be the next step down the line — making you his darling wife.

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beauvibaby · 3 years

Text

all I could ever want – t.seguin

a/n: part 2 of there won’t be anyone else!! I definitely prefer the first part of this story, but I also love this one because it’s just straight fluff 😌

Word count: 2.9k

“Mommy!” Willow squealed in delight, running into the kitchen to see you, Tyler had picked her up from preschool on his way home from practice. “Willow!” You mimicked, laughing as she hugged your legs, “did you have a good day?” You asked with a grin, Tyler chuckled, “Miss Laura is having a baby.” Tyler spoke for her. Willow nodded excitedly, “aw, that’s great.” You smiled, hoisting Willow up to sit on the counter. “I want you to have a baby, mommy.” She spoke honestly, giving her dad a weird look when he choked on his water, you snickered at him. “Maybe.” You shrugged her comment off, thankful for her short attention span, she was asking to go play with the dogs as she wiggled her way into your arms to be put down on the ground. “Go ahead.” Tyler nodded her off and she went barreling towards the living room where the dogs were innocently napping, poor boys.

“What was that reaction for?” You asked once it was just the two of you, he mumbled something under his breath, “talk like an adult, Tyler.” You teased him, resting a hand on your hip as you gave him a stern look. “I just didn’t think she was going to want a sibling, she loves having all the attention.” He sighed, “plus my baby is too little to want another baby in the house.” He pouted dramatically. Ah, the real reasoning coming out. “Yeah, but you always said you wanted more kids, and you know I would be happy with a full house, so.” You trailed off, kind of disappointed by his lackluster reaction. “You still want to have more kids right?” You asked when he didn’t speak, finally locking your eyes on his. “Yes, of course.” He rushed, “after the wedding?” He offered, seeing your smile turn up, “really?” You gasped like a child. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I don’t want you to think I don’t want more babies with you.” He smirked, kissing your pouted lips, “I was just so caught off guard.” He admitted honestly, his normal attitude coming back through.

You had to cut him some slack, thinking of how hard it was for him when Willow’s mom was pregnant, she didn’t want him involved in anything he wasn’t able to be apart of it up until the last second, it was like a switch flipped and suddenly she decided she wasn’t fit to raise a baby. As selfish as it sounds, you were so grateful for how it turned out, because at the end of the day you knew she was getting the best life possible with you and Tyler.

“Me too, honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t asked how the baby gets in a woman’s stomach.” You quipped, Tyler groaned, “I can’t even think about that.” He muttered in defeat, kissing the side of your head. When he pulled away, you had a giddy smile on your face, “what?” He asked you suspiciously. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you.” You admitted, watching his nerves melt away. You knew Tyler, and you knew he was a worrier, even if he didn’t voice it, right now he was probably running over every horror story he’s heard about complicated pregnancies. “God you’re gonna look so beautiful.” He muttered, a glint in his eyes, you knew then, that it was all going to be ok, even if he was a nervous wreck. Which part of you thought he would be.

***

You stood by the window of your bridal suite, dressed in your gown and veil, one of the photographers getting photos of you looking out, coincidentally, in the open garden below you, Tyler was doing his first look with Willow, something the photographer had brought up to you, and you jumped on it. Those pictures would be cherished forever, Tyler really didn’t know what Willow was going to be dressed in, but you watched as he turned around and saw his little girl, who didn’t look so little, in a dusty rose colored dress, long lace sleeves and a nice puffy skirt, per her request. Her curls tamed beautifully for once as she actually let the hair stylist apply some products to them. Your grin was wide as he gasped, looking at her and she bounced over to him, you could see her mouth moving and you could only imagine how she was rambling on and on about her dress. A habit he swears she picked up from you.

“Y/N? You ready to head down?” Your maid of honor, your best friend Y/F/N asked, giving you a once over. You smoothed out your dress once more, looking down at the trumpet style gown. “Yeah.” You sniffled, fanning at your face. You and Tyler opted not to do a first look, you wanted to see his genuine reaction as you walked down the aisle. “You look stunning.” She assured you, lightly dabbing under your eyes with a tissue, the sound of the camera going off in the background.

As you reached your spot just behind the double doors, any nerves you had melted away, Tyler, the love of your life, was right on the other side of this wall, prepared to say I do to a lifetime with you.

Tyler’s father was walking you down the aisle, neither of your parents here to do it. As he approached, you smiled, hoping Tyler’s reaction would be similar to his dad’s. You’d grown close with his family over the years, they truly loved you, and it showed as his dad grabbed your hand, kissing the top of it as he smiled tearfully. “I’ll never really know how Tyler managed to snag you up, but he could have never made a better choice.” He explained, voice shaking before he cleared his throat. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He broke the silence, chuckling at himself as you looped your arm with his, holding your bouquet with the other.

The wedding March began to play, and the doors were pushed open, revealing you and Paul standing there. Instantly Tyler looked to the ceiling, his eyes watering already, the smile on his face was undeniable as you walked towards him slowly, your own eyes glazed over at the way he was looking at you. “Gorgeous.” He mouthed, your lips parting in a smile, he loved when he got those smiles out of you, the ones where the corners of your eyes would crinkle, and sometimes you would even scrunch your nose a bit. This was definitely one of those moments.

***

The wedding had come and gone, your honeymoon too, a simple trip with just the two of you before the hockey season started again. “Daddy.” Willow whispered, standing on his side of the bed, he stirred, blinking his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the darkness of the room. He turned his lamp on, “what’s wrong baby?” He asked softly, careful not to wake you as he caressed Willow’s face, frowning at the tears coating it. “I had a bad dream.” She whimpered, “come here.” He huffed as he pulled her up onto the bed. “Wanna tell me what happened?” He asked her, turning the lamp off as he let her cuddle with him. “No, just cuddles.” She mumbled sleepily, his heart swelled in his chest at that, “always, princess.” He sighed, kissing the top of her head as she easily laid on top of him, her teddy bear snuggled between them. You flipped over carefully, having woken up during their little conversation. Tyler gave you a tired smile as you placed a kiss on his shoulder before resting back on your pillow, a smile on your face as you listened to her light breathing.

As morning came you groaned in annoyance, morning sickness coming right along with it.

That’s right, you two had no trouble getting pregnant apparently, today was actually the day you were going to tell Willow about the baby. “Is mommy sick?” Willow asked Tyler as they woke up to you bolting out of bed, he held back a chuckle, “no, she’s ok.” He assured her, “stay here.” He demanded gently before coming to check on you as you brushed your teeth. “Hi babe.” He placed a kiss on your cheek, “doing ok?” He asked softly, locking eyes with you in the mirror. “Yeah,” you sighed, leaning into his hold after you rinsed your mouth out. “Are you ready to tell her?” You asked eagerly, “god, yes.” He groaned, giving you a quick kiss.

Willow was sitting in the middle of the bed, adjusting the bow on her teddy bear's head. “Good morning, baby.” You chuckled, sitting beside her, she shot you a smile, just like Tyler’s as she crawled into your lap. “Don’t forget miss bows.” She mumbled with a pout, Tyler snickered as you took the bear and placed a kiss on its head, “good morning, miss bows.” You spoke dramatically, Willow snuggling happily into you. “Hey, Willow.” Tyler spoke softly, sitting beside you, “guess what?” He smiled at her, she sat up a little straighter, “what?” She asked cutely, you shared a look with Tyler. “We’re gonna have a baby.” You told her, relief hitting you as she jumped up screaming in excitement. “A baby?!” She squealed. You quickly pulled out your phone to record her, sending it to Tyler’s parents. “When?” She asked giggling, sitting crossed legged in front of you both. “Oh, it’s still going to be a few months honey.” You explained sweetly, “but you’re going to be a big sister, that means you can help me and mommy get stuff ready for the baby.” Tyler assured her, wanting her to feel involved and not like the baby was going to completely take over.

The months started flying by, you were having a little boy, Tyler thought he wanted another daughter, which of course he would have been just as excited for, but when he heard it was a boy, you could see the way his eyes lit up. Willow had been a little upset at first, wanting a little sister that she could do all her fun girly things with as she got older, but after some long conversations and some explanations, you convinced her of all the reasons it would be fun for her to have a brother.

Tyler was more than nervous as your water broke in the middle of the night, of course you’d thought ahead and had spoken to Tyler’s mom, who had been staying with you guys for about a week, to be here and help with Willow once you had the baby. He swears that your labor went on forever, but really, you’d gotten lucky and progressed quickly. Nearly missing the window to get the epidural, which terrified you, but you got it, and now you had a very healthy, chunky little eight pound baby boy. Much to everyone’s surprise, everyone expected him to be smaller, but you weren’t complaining.

“Oh my god.” You cried out as they put him on your chest, his screams filling the room, it felt like an eternity until he began to cry, but he was sure to make up for it.

“I can’t believe we made him.” Tyler mumbled, unlike Willow, Hunter was born with next to no hair. “I know.” You whispered, running your finger across his chubby cheek, he was peacefully sleeping in your arms, already a hungry baby, having drunk himself right to sleep. “I hope he looks like you.” Tyler muttered, lightly kissing the side of your head, a smile graced your lips, “I hope he looks like you.” You giggled, “but I kind of don’t, because then all the girls will be after him when he’s a teenager.” You added, your husband chuckling beside you. “Let’s worry about his first night home, yeah?” He laughed softly. “Willow is going to be so excited.” You sighed, lacing your fingers with Tyler’s.

***

“Mommy, daddy!” Willow rushed over when you walked in, Tyler having the car seat around his arm. “Hi, sweet girl.” You welcomed her hug, kneeling to her height. “Were you good for grandma?” You asked gently, she nodded eagerly before moving over to hug Tyler once he placed the car seat down. “Hi princess.” He grinned, hugging her tightly, “I missed you.” He kissed the top of her head, laughing as she completely disregarded his comment and looked at Hunter in awe. “He’s so pretty.” She gasped, making you and Jackie both laugh. “He really is a beautiful baby, honey.” Jackie spoke to you, giving you a gentle hug. Tyler moved the car seat up to the table, shushing Willow as he assured her she would get to hold him. “Go wash your hands.” Jackie instructed her, walking over to Tyler as he easily held the newborn in his hands. She kissed her son's cheek before grabbing Hunter’s hand, “hello beautiful boy.” She cooed, running her thumb over his arm. “You did good.” She commented to Tyler, lightly nudging his side, he shot her a smile, “yeah.” He agreed, glancing at you.

“Can I hold him, please, please?” Willow begged, running out with freshly washed hands, you nodded, “go sit on the couch, I’ll bring him to you.” You instructed her softly, she giggled and ran off to the couch, you gently took Hunter from Tyler, “oh, Jackie did you want to hold him fi–“ “No, no, let Willow do it first, she’s just so excited.” Jackie cut you off mid ramble. You smiled in relief, slowly walking over to the couch, Tyler came and sat next to her, he put a pillow on her lap, and had her put arms out on it. “You have to be really gentle, ok?” He told her as he put his arms around her, his hands offering extra support for the baby’s neck. You laid Hunter down, smiling as Willow cooed down to him, “hi baby brother.” She giggled, looking over at you and then to Tyler. “Mommy,” she mumbled as you sat next to them, Tyler picking the baby up as he began to fuss, “I love him.” Willow concluded in the most serious voice. “I love him too.”

***

Hunter gurgled up at you as you dressed him in sweatpants, now two months old, and all of you were missing Tyler as he just had his first away game of the season. You left him shirtless, a pun at how Tyler always walked around the house in his pajamas, “mommy, I wanna match.” Willow pouted, you looked at her in thought for a moment, knowing you couldn’t let her run around in only pants, even if it was only in the house. “Oh, I have an idea.” You grinned, scooping the baby up and going into the back of the closet, where most of Tyler’s old shirts were. “Come here baby!” You called, Willow came bouncing in, one of your fondest memories as a child was wearing your dad's old shirts as pajamas, so why not pass it on to her. “Pick one to wear.” You told her, smiling as she got all excited, flipping through them, she pulled two down off the hangers, “where this one mommy, please.” She gave you her puppy eyes, not that she had to. You nodded, taking the shirt from her and going into the bathroom to change into it, leaving your shorts in underneath.

A loud laugh fell from your lips as you walked out and saw her drowning in his shirt, but there was nothing more adorable. “Come here, let me get a picture.” You made Willow lay on the bed, and put Hunter next to her, you wanted to send the picture to him, but you’d rather him be surprised by your outfit choices for the night. “Hello!” Tyler called from downstairs, Willow giggled carefully moving away from Hunter, “careful, hold the shirt up so you don’t fall!” You called as she took off out of the room, her response faded out as she bounced down the steps, you following with Hunter curled up in your arms. “Hey baby!” You heard Tyler gasp, “what do you think you’re wearing?” He questioned her, lifting her up into his arms. “We missed you so much, we figured why not dress up as you.” You explained, making him look up and see you in one of his shirts and Hunter in little grey sweatpants, Tyler threw his head back in laughter, “are you surprised?” Willow asked him, arms clasped around his neck, he hummed in agreement as he kissed her cheek before coming over to you. “Hi.” He whispered before pecking your lips.

“Hi.” You repeated, smiling as he pulled away, Willow wiggled her way down to the ground, allowing him to take Hunter from you. “Hey bud, looking good.” He mumbled kissing across his chubby cheeks. “And mama, as beautiful as ever.” He winked over at you. He smirked when you rolled your eyes with a smile, “movie night!” He declared, bolting up the stairs with Hunter to go change. You chuckled as you ordered pizza, deciding to make it a fun simple night. You knew that it wouldn’t always be like this, but you knew that whatever life through at you, you two could make it work.

“You know, I’ve got all I could ever want right here.” Tyler mumbled as you sat curled up on the couch with two sleeping kids on your laps. “Me too, Ty.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @calgarycanuck @myhockeyworld87 @shortstacks-blog @mymanshawn @calgarycanuck @pagirl6866 @chronosarcheron

#tyler seguin #dallas stars #nhl fic #Tyler seguin imagine #Tyler seguin fic #Tyler seguin imagines

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maxfoxdbh · 3 years

Text

Booze And an Empty Feeling

Hank Anderson x Reader

Summary: It's Coles’ birthday, and Hank needs to drown the sorrow away at Jimmy’s Bar.

Hurt + Comfort

Mentions of death

Depressed Hank

Angst

Heavy topics, (alcoholism, suicide)

Gender neutral reader

💫💫💫

Eleven p.m and still no Hank in sight. You were beginning to be concerned.

Typically, your boyfriend would be home by nine-thirty at the latest. He wasn't the type to work overtime. In fact, he’d like to spend the least amount of time at work as possible.

With that possibility aside, the only two places that he’d really be interested in being, well, besides home.

Jimmy's bar or Chicken feed.

You turned to Connor’s room, which, as far you understood, had been attached the the house a few years ago.

You knocked softly on the door with your knuckles, “Connor, can I come in?”

“Yes!” His voice protected through the wood.

You opened his door to see Connor sitting cross-legged in an office chair, reading an ebook. His usual android blazer was folded neatly on his bed, leaving him in his button down.

“Hank hasn't been answering my calls, ” You said, Sumo walking into Connor’s room with a wagging tail. “Is something wrong?”

“Something wrong...” Connor repeated, looking away as his LED spun yellow. His hands subconsciously reached down to scratch under Sumo’s ears.

Suddenly his eyes lit up, “Today is the eleventh of October, is it not?”

“Yeah, ” You tilted your head, “why?”

Connor creased his brows, “I think you should check Jimmy’s bar. There's an 85% probability that he’ll be there.”

“Okay, ” You nodded, “okay, I’ll do that. Thank you, Connor.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging on his lips, “Of course.”

And so you headed downtown towards Hank’s favorite bar. It was raining outside and you didn't like driving in the rain, but you felt that this was important.

You tried to call him again. Your phone rang on and on until you were finally sent to voicemail.

You huffed in frustration and concern as you shut your phone off and pulled into the bar’s parking lot.

You walked through the rain as fast as you could, and into the back door.

The bar was almost completely empty, music playing softly in the background. For a moment, you thought that your boyfriend might not be there at all. You considered the possibility that he’d gone to Chicken feed instead and turned on your heel to leave before doing a double take.

There he was, sitting on the last stool at the bar.

“Hank, ” You let out a breath, approaching him, “Honey, I was worried about you.” You gently shook his shoulder.

He was absolutely surrounded in shot glasses and beer bottles.

Hank grumbled something unintelligible and you sat beside him, one hand on his back. “I called you. You didn’t answer... Is everything okay?”

He stared ahead, eyes glazed over.

“Hank,” you wrapped one hand around his neck and drew yourself in against his shoulder, “Come on, let’s go home...” He smelled strongly of alcohol, but it didn’t bother you much. You were just glad he was okay.

He nodded wordlessly and you pulled off of him, reaching for his hand.

“I got you,” You mumbled, using your palm to support his shoulder as he stood up, “can you walk?”

“Yeah,” He grumbled.

You sighed. At least you’d managed to get him to speak. Putting a wad of cash down, you nodded or the bar tender, hoping it would be enough.

Jim and Hank were on good terms anyway.

“Sorry,” Hank said gruffly, eyes foggy.

“It’s okay,” You insisted, leading him out the back door.

“for not answering your calls.” He finished.

“I know,” You said, “It’s okay.”

You helped him into the car and he didn’t put up too much of a fight, staying quiet. You knew he felt bad, but you weren’t sure that he was in a good enough physical state to verbalize that.

You sat in the drivers seat, knowing it was an awful idea to let your boyfriend drive at the moment.

The two of you waited there for a moment, listening to the thunder roaring in the distance.

Hank shivered and turned up the heat, resting his head back against the seat.

You checked your phone.

One(1) new message from Connor🤖👮🏻...

Is Lieutenant Anderson alright?

You smiled down at the screen and typed back a yes. It was sweet how much Connor cared about Hank. He loved him like a father.

“You don’t like driving in the rain.” Hank mumbled, sighing.

“It’s alright,” You smiled softly.

“I’m sorry for making you come out here in the rain.” He said, “I should’ve came home.”

After a moment, his thick hand was holding yours and he mustered up the courage to look at you. “Today was my son’s birthday.”

You felt a sharp stab to your chest and you frowned, squeezing his palm, “Oh, Hank,” You whispered, “I’m sorry... I didn’t know. I-”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done.” He said quietly, “It’s the way things are.”

You had obviously never met Cole, and Hank didn’t usually feel comfortable talking about his son’s death, but you knew what happened, and you knew how heartbroken Hank was over it.

You ran your thumb over the top of his hand and he smiled sadly, sensing your apprehension, “It’s okay. Let’s go home. I’ve sat alone for long enough,” He grumbled.

You nodded and began to back the car up, “Do you wanna watch a movie together? With Connor, Sumo, and I?” You smiled slightly, “It could be nice...”

“Yeah,” He nodded, feeing a little better, “yeah, that’d be good.”

You couldn’t take away the sadness Hank felt due to the loss of his son, but you could try to make his night a little warmer, a little less lonely.

#dbh #dbh markus #dbh north #dbh hank #dbh ralph #dbh simon #dbh fanfic #dbh connor #hank x reader #deteoit become human #detroit become human #x reader #gender neutral reader #angst with a happy ending

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