#sleepover drabble

[inkdrinkerworld]

ooo and maybe "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." with bob floyd he’s my babygirl <3 (no pressure for either of these ofc x)

Mal I know this was from the last sleepover list but I couldn’t pass up on writing something for Bobby!

Bob has a habit of never being able to sleep in. It's a Navy thing he's sure, needing to be up at 0500 hours every day to start the day with basic fitness training, logging into doing his checks for the day and then going to fly by 0730.

He can't sleep in ever.

It's why he's up now, but this is a much nicer reason to be awake at 0600. You're lying beside him, still asleep, with your face squished into your pillow.

Bob could watch you sleep for the rest of his life- he plans to honestly. But right now, he wants your company, and he wants to see your eyes.

He starts kindly enough with his wake-up protocol. "Darling," he whispers against your cheek, one of his hands falling on your neck and stroking the skin there softly.

"I miss you, wake up so I can see your face." he smears a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, a short path all the way to your ear.

You groan when you feel him press a kiss just under your ear, shifting slightly so your body is closer to him.

"Are you awake, darling?" he whispers, and you hum.

"No," it's all garbled and sleep laden that Bob can't help but lay another kiss on you.

"Oh okay, m'sorry love, but I miss your face." you shift so you're on your back and he can see your face more clearly, but you don't open your eyes.

Bob chuckles at the dramatics of it all- even half asleep you still manage it.

"I wanna see your eyes, darling." it's a little whiny but the man had been gone for a year, so sue him if he wanted a little bit of your attention at 0620 on a Sunday.

"Bobby," you whine, peeling your eyes open to find his baby blues already on you. "I love you, but I'm so tired."

He leans up on his elbow and presses a kiss to your lips. "Just missed your eyes." He cups your face, stroking your cheek as you shut your eyes again.

"Two more hours, Bobby then I'll be fully awake." you roll over, pressing your face into his chest. Bob's hand falls to the back of your head, scratching at the base of your neck as your breathing evens out.

He can wait another two hours; he'll have to because in no time he can hear your soft snores and smiles.

[bcksbarnes]

bucky never tried to hide how absolutely vulgar his vocabulary was, though he tried to be on his best behavior in the beginning of your relationship. that didn't mean it didn't slip from time to time.

a mumbled 'shit, god dammit' every few minutes when he was trying to put together the coffee table you had ordered to your apartment but he couldn't get the screws in the exact right spot. it took him 3 hours to finish.

when you went out to eat and the guy in front of you didn't hold the door open and it slammed in your face bucky's response was an angered 'what's your fucking problem, dickhead?' which ultimately made you laugh and forget about the bloodied nose you had. bucky held back his need to kick the guy's ass in favor of getting you cleaned up.

all bets were off by your first anniversary, bucky didn't care anymore, and you liked the overuse of profanities.

"bullshit," he mutters to himself one night. pacing back and forth in your bedroom so quickly you thought he was going to burn a hole in the rug.

"what is?" you ask, absentmindedly folding laundry as you watched him out of the corner of your eye.

"this fucking asshole is trying to fucking upsell me on the part for the bike," he mutters, his phone clutched in his hand. "$500 more than the quote. he's lost his goddamn mind."

"you can't let it get to you."

"so fucking dumb. i should have just done it myself," bucky grumbles as he throws the phone on the bed and sits on the edge. he runs his fingers through his hair before letting out a loud sigh. "i could have had this shit fixed fucking weeks ago."

you finish folding the last shirt before you make your way over to him, climbing into his lap and tilting his head back. you can see the frustration in his features, the way his brows furrow together.

suddenly, the need to make him feel better overwhelms you.

you feel him relax and his hands rub your thighs as he succumbs to the way your lips press his jaw, a strangled 'fuuuuuck' whispered in your ear as he forgets everything he was mad about.

only focused on you.

[sunskisser]

🧣 remus lupin + "you fell asleep. it would’ve been cute, if i hadn’t been so paranoid you were actually unconscious"! please! 😁

thank you for the request lovely! :)

slumber | r.l.

— “You fell asleep. It would’ve been cute, if I hadn’t been so paranoid you were actually unconscious.”

remus lupin x reader

tw: fluff!

Remus can tell that you’re exhausted simply from your voice when you call out to him. It’s full of love, as it always is, just a little dimmer than it was when he kissed you goodbye that morning.

You enter the house and kick off your shoes. Remus meets you in the hallway, tugging your coat off for you before pulling you into his arms. You go easily.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

“Hi,” you mumble, relaxing into him. He splays one hand out between your shoulder blades, the other on the small of your back.

“Long day?”

You make a soft sound halfway between I dunno and mhm. Something in his heart twists when you look up at him, all droopy eyelids and tired smile.

He hums pityingly. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. Remus pecks your forehead before pulling away to take your hands.

“Okay, that’s okay, sweetheart. Let’s get some food in you.”

There’s nothing you can do but nod, but that’s enough for him. He all but carries you to the kitchen and hoists you up onto the platform.

He manhandles you in the gentlest way, adjusting your too-tired-to-move body until he was certain your head wasn’t going to hit anything.

“Remember that book fair Sirius invited me to, said it was full of classics and poetry?” he glances at you as he moves away. You nod.

Remus starts to cut up ingredients, goes through the familiar motions of making your favourite soup. He knows you’re not yourself when you’re tired — on a normal day, you’d be chatting his ear off. He’ll talk for you instead.

“… and it turns out he was lying. It was a fucking party, at this huge, loud club. I should’ve known, really, I mean it’s Sirius we’re talking about…” he hopes it’s enough to keep you awake. He isn’t usually one for words, but he’d read novels out loud if it meant you were listening.

Remus continues talking, and you really are trying your best to keep up. But your eyelids feel heavy. So heavy.

Maybe he asks you something, you hear the lilt in his voice at the end of his sentence. You don’t answer, you can’t. Your eyes flutter shut as you’re tugged along by the stream of unconsciousness.

There’s a tingling sensation in your brain, like someone’s pulling your mind out of the depths of sleep. You force your eyes open, squinting as the bright lights of the chandelier in the living room hit your retinas.

“Y/n, sweetheart?”

The vivid light is instantly replaced by your boyfriend’s silhouette as he stands over you. You can’t make out his expression fully, a mix of relief and bemusement and something else you can’t place.

“You’re up, thank god.”

You blink. “What happened?”

Remus gives you a small smile, the skin under his eyes crinkling in slight worry. He helps you up into a sitting position. “You fell asleep. It would’ve been cute, if I hadn’t been so paranoid you were actually unconscious.”

You let out a huff of laughter. “How long was I out for?”

“Three hours.” His expression finally lets up a little, less terse. He sits down next to you, giving you a few giggly kisses before pulling you into his side. “I tried to wake you up more than a few times, dove. But you were out cold. I guess you really were tired, huh?”

“I guess so,” you smile.

“You were,” he grins, rubbing the fat of your arm affectionately. “You were snoring real loud too.”

“I don’t snore!”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he dots a kiss on your nose, “Whatever rocks your boat.”

san’s christmas sleepover

[drabblesandsnippets]

Imagine... (‘here, take my jacket’)

Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

December Daze Challenge - Day 1 - @the-slumberparty

Warnings: (410w) possessive Bucky (willing reader), mention of rough sex

Imagine dating possessive, beefy Bucky. He’d be so obsessed with you, making sure you only have eyes for him, giving you everything you could ever want. He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you, squeezing your soft flesh every chance he got, growling all the things he loves about you, all the things he plans to do you. At his insistence, you’d wear as little as possible around the house, giving him every opportunity to admire and touch what’s his. You don’t even mind when you go out and he makes it obvious to everyone around who you belong to, his intimidating metal arm visible and gleaming under the lights. And when the stares start to get to him, men leering at your curves, their eyes lingering far too long in places that have Bucky seeing red, he’d offer you his jacket. You’d barely have a chance to respond before he’d drape it over you, buttoning the collar to secure it around your shoulders, shielding more of your body from view. When you’re feeling extra bold, you’d ‘accidentally’ let the button pop open, his jacket barely falling off before he’d grab it and give you a warning look that you’re playing with fire. All it’d take is a slight shrug and a soft laugh as if you’re daring him and he’d pull you into a darkened alley, pushing you up against the rough bricks to remind you who's in charge. He’d put his jacket back around you, make sure you’re comfortable, but his hands would be anything but gentle. Metal fingers inside your bra, squeezing your tit, pinching your nipple - his right hand under your skirt, ripping your tights to find you dripping for him. He’d make you moan his name, listen to you beg him to fuck you, tease you about wanting to get caught. And when you'd get too loud, he’d pull you into a sloppy kiss to silence your cries, your legs wrapped around him as he relentlessly fucked you, his bruising thrusts leaving you breathless. He wouldn’t stop until you came at least three times, your pliant body being held up by his metal arm, his other hand cradling the back of your head, keeping you from hitting against the wall as he slammed into you, your tight heat milking him dry. Afterwards, he’d take you home and clean you up - probably just to get you dirty all over again, but it's not like you'd ever complain.

Imagine... Masterlist | Day 2

Banners by @cafekitsune - Divider by @saradika-graphics

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Good Tidings Your Way Come

Warnings: non/dubcon, allusions to stalking, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: An old face shows up without welcome.

Character: Johnny Storm

Day Three of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - new SO at the family dinner

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You take out the pies you baked the night before and put them on the shelf, juggling around the contents of the fridge to accommodate prepped dishes. Your meticulously planned schedule is outlined on the magnetic whiteboard. The turkey is in and all else has to be timed precisely.  

As you get out the stuffed olives to put pit on the wooden board with all the cheeses and crackers, the doorbell rings. You set the jar down and wipe your hands on your apron. You huff as you hurry out of the kitchen. 

"Why are you knocking?" You call to the door, "go ahead and come on in. You know the rules. Just kick the snow off--" 

You grab the handle, even as you beckon to the expected visitor. One of a few. Maybe their hands are full. Naima is always far too ambitious. You're not quite sure where your youngest got that from. 

You blink at the figure on the other side. It isn't who you expect. Not any of your daughters. It's not anyone you would expect to see on the holiday you've been coveting all month, along with the time off. 

Johnny smiles as he hugs a cardboard box, tufts of tissue paper and bows peeking out over the top. Your face and your heart fall. How did he find you? 

"Hey, cookie, happy holidays," he winks. "Mmm," he sniffs emphatically, "smells good. You still put cranberries in your stuffing." 

You cheeks twitch. You clutch the edge of your apron and gulp, "Johnny, what are you doing here?" 

"Ah, go on, ask me how I found you? You know I hate niceties," he shoves the box towards you, "those are for the girls." 

"Girls?" You utter. 

"Naima, Marcie  and... what was it...Evelina." He recites as he jiggles the box in his arms.  

"How--" 

"Brrr, it's chilly," he steps close until the box presses to you. "Sure is coming down." 

You stare at him, stunned. You bring your arms up to take the box as he sidles in past you. That little voice that follows you from consciousness to nightmare nags in your ear. Stop him! What are you doing? 

"Just gotta warm up," he looks around the entry way as he rubs his hands together, his fingers lighting with licking flames as the air ripples with the heat. That's what you're doing. Being smart. "Too bad about the old place. Heard the landlord was pissed." 

You stare at his hands and the flames that threaten his leather jacket. He's entirely unbothered as his flesh is unaffected by the fire. He parts his hands and snaps his fingers. The flames die. 

"You know pecan's my fave. You make it this year?" 

You can't speak. One mistake. One stupid act of charity and now you're cursed. One year isn't long enough yet you don't think he'll wait so long the next tome. 

"Apple, pumpkin, and pecan," your voice creaks. 

"Mmm, delicious," he unzips his jacket slowly. "Dessert to go with..." he eyes you up and down, "dessert." 

"Please, why are you here?" 

"It's the holidays. It's a time to spend with those who matter--" 

"Johnny," you plead. 

"Don't." He snaps, "you always pulled that pathetic act, didn't you? And I spent all that time trying to comfort you only for you to ditch me--" 

"You... it was a misunderstanding. I only ever wanted a friend," you sniff. 

"I didn't. I just wanted you but I guess you thought you were too fucking good," he sneers. "Funny, seeing as the ex dumped you for that young EA of his." 

"Stop--" you say. 

"Huh, you're right. We don't need to stay hung up on old wounds. It's a time for cheer. To be together." He bends to unlace his boots. "Can't wait to meet the family." 

You watch him move his boots onto the mat. He stands straight and takes the box back. You shiver as his blue eyes stick to you. 

"How about you come back tomorrow--" 

"So you can run again? You're not getting away. Not doing this to me again." 

"I didnt--" you choke as his eyes blaze a vibrant orange. 

"This is an old house. Nice. Bet the baseboards are real oak. I mean foundation's probably concrete but not much without walls." He smirks as he meets your eye, "so, should we put these under the tree?" 

"Um, sure," you agree. 

His threats are subtle but not missed. Your daughters, your home, you. It could all be destroyed by the snap of his fingers. Literally. 

"Probably a bit awkward at first," he says as he enters the living room without invitation.  

You close the front door before you follow. You hover at the door anxiously. He bends to put down the box and unpacks each present before delicately placing them under the decorated tree. 

"I mean, the age difference might be a bit shocking," he stands up with the empty box and it flashes into cinder, falling to the floor in a pile of ash. "Should probably sweep that up, honey." 

You give him a long look. He doesn’t flinch. You leave him to get the broom and dustpan. You return as he nonchalantly paces the room. He admires the decor, toying with the ornaments on the mantel and running his finger along the hanging tinsel. A wisp of smoke wisps after the motion but no sparks fly. 

You gather up the mess on the floor and dump it in the bin. You shut away the broom and pan. Back in the living room, he admires the hung portraits of your daughters. He’s very deliberate in his examination. 

“It’s okay, you know? We’ll work through it as a family. I can only imagine it might be a little weird. To think of how you seduce me. A much younger man than you--” 

“Johnny, I get it. You don’t have to—If you just go, we can talk about this later--” 

“Talk,” he says sharply. “We did a lot of that. Talk, talk, talk,” he puppets his hand with the syllables and faces you. “Then you ran.” 

“I appreciate everything you did for me, but I wasn’t ready--” 

“It’s been over a year so are you ready now?” He snickers as he comes closer, “I mean, that’s rhetorical so...” 

Your lip quivers as he stops right in front of you. His gaze bores into you then slowly descends. He brings his hand up to run his thumb across your lower lip as he bites his own. You wince and he angles his hand to grab your chin gruffly. 

“I’ve waited longer than that. I’ve been patient.” He takes a breath and tilts his head dangerously. “I’ve known where you are. I sat and I watched. Baby, I gave you all the time you need to get past that deadbeat husband.” 

Your lashes web with unspent tears as you pout. You can feel the heat in his hand, ready to singe at his smallest whim. He pulls you toward him and you tense. His breath sizzles around you. 

He raises his other hand and the air whisks as flames jump to life around his digits. You watch them encase his flesh and the thick golden signet around his middle finger. His eyes follow yours to the spectacle of his fiery touch. He looms it closer to you and chokes a whimper for you. The air roils across your face. 

He closes his fist and the flames go out. He’s toying with you. You search his face for any hint of mercy. For any strand of the man you once believed he was. His blue eyes are icy even if his touch is searing. 

He walks you back and you yelp as he lowers his hand to grab your hip. He spins you and you catch yourself on the armchair just in front of you. He jerks you as he tugs on your jeans, the button tugging before popping out to dangle on the thread. He bares your ass as you brace the frame of the chair. 

You cry out as hot metal burns into your flesh. He presses his knuckles against your soft flesh as the ring brands a welt into your flesh. He keeps it there until your whining and writhing, his other hand still hooked around your neck. 

He pulls you back until your spine arches. He steps closer and crushes his hand between your ass and his crotch. He huffs and snarls. 

“This time, you won’t forget who you belong to,” he twists his hand so the metal burns deeper into your skin. “Now stop fucking crying. It’s a special day, we don’t need you ruining it.”

There's voices from outside. You know them well. You flick your lashes as Johnny lets you go and swipe away your tears. You can't ruin today, not for your girls.

"That's a good girl. They wouldn't wanna see mommy crying," he heads for the door. "Especially for no reason. No one likes a drama queen."

You suck back the last of your horror. It's just what needs to be done. Not just to keep yourself safe, but to keep them safe. You were wrong when you thought running would do that. 

[snoopyracing]

8 & 16 from the fluff list with lando please? 🥹

hi! here you go 😊

lando + having a tender moment in the early morning + "how are you so comfy?"

it was too early to be up and the fact that you knew you had to be up early had you waking up every little bit to make sure you didn't oversleep. and when your alarm finally went off it felt like you had just gone to bed.

it was lando's fault that you guys had to be up at 3:30 in the morning. when he told you the other day that your flight to belgium was at 6 a.m. you wanted to strangle him. and the groan coming from him at the sound of the alarm put a told you so look on your face.

"oh my god why did we book this early of a flight?"

"we? you did that all on your own norris." you stated as you started to get out of bed, but your actions were halted by his hand gripping your arm, pulling you back into the bed.

"no stay and cuddle for a little bit please."

you knew you shouldn't. you had a flight to catch and if you allowed yourself to succumb to his pleas you knew you guys would be missing that flight. but even in the darkness of your shared bedroom you couldn't resist the desire to be held by the man you love. "5 minutes lando. that's all we have to spare." you stated, full knowing you'll both fall back asleep.

"well it will be the best five minutes of my life then."

your head rested on his chest as his arms wrapped around you and if there was one place you felt the most secure and loved- it was in lando's arms.

it had definitely been past five minutes, but neither of you budged on being the first to get up. in fact you thought lando had fallen back asleep until he spoke.

"i love you. i hope you know that. with every fiber of my being i love you."

it was still dark in the room, but you lifted your head to look at him. your cheeks hot over his words even after being together for some time.

"i know you do. you tell me all the time lan, but for what it's worth i'd say i love you more."

a small laugh came from him as one of his hands cupped your face. "baby, we are not having this competition again because i will win everytime."

"you just think you do."

he was thankful that it was dark in the room as he playfully rolled his eyes at you before leaning in to kiss you. the action catching you off guard but you quickly kissed him back. his kisses were addictive and once you had one you needed at least five more to suffice.

but before it turned into something else you pulled away, reclaiming your spot in his arms. and as you laid your head back down on his chest you couldn't help but ask "how are you so comfy?"

"i'm just filled with so much love." he stated. and you could sense the smirk on his face as he said it.

"oh my god quit."

come chat it's sleepover saturday!!

[moonbils]

warnings: Mild chaos, questionable decision-making, and Billie being a terrible influence. No actual cleaning occurs.

paring: roommate reader x bestie billie

You’re lying on Billie’s couch, wrapped in a blanket, half-watching a movie when you hear a loud crash from the kitchen.

BILLIE (texting): small problem

YOU: what did you break

BILLIE: first of all, rude assumption

Y/N: …so what did you break

BILLIE: okay so technically the shelf broke itself, I just… helped

You sit up immediately. “What. Did. You. Do.”

Billie peeks around the corner, looking way too guilty. “Okay, before you get mad—”

You push off the couch and walk into the kitchen. It’s a disaster zone. An entire cabinet’s worth of plates and bowls are on the floor, an open bag of chips is spilling onto the counter, and a carton of juice is dripping off the edge.

You stare. Billie rubs the back of her neck. “In my defense… I didn’t think it would fall that fast.”

“You destroyed your kitchen over snacks?”

“It was an accident!” she says, then mutters, “Mostly.”

You sigh, grabbing some paper towels, but Billie stops you. “No, no. We do what any responsible people would do.”

“…Which is?”

She grins. “We pretend this never happened.”

Before you can argue, she’s already tossing a towel over the mess and steering you back toward the couch.

“Billie—”

“Shhh,” she says, flopping down dramatically. “If we don’t acknow

You cross your arms. “That’s not how cleaning works.”

She hands you the remote, looking entirely unbothered. “It is if you believe hard enough.”

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

💬 Seams sleepover micro-drabble request for a morning-after snuggle/coffee/realistic morning breath kinda morning for Joel and Pin!

Where Else

Seams sleepover micro drabble request | 350 words | warnings: rated M, insecurities, morning wood, waking up with Joel is a warning on its own | can be read independently of the series but is part of the Seams universe

It’s been months, seasons, since the day Joel came to you in the shop, stuck in his jeans. And yet, it all feels so new. Neither of you being ones to rush things, it’s not until the little town of Jackson is once again blanketed in snow before Joel spends his first night at your cottage.

You awake to deep, steady breaths on your neck, arms tight around your waist under the duvet, broad chest against your back, and your lips stretch into a slow smile, before morphing into a yawn -

Your gentle awakening is rudely interrupted by a sudden self-consciousness that snaps your mouth shut. When you live alone, you don’t think about things like morning breath. But now that there’s a man - this particular man - in your bed…

Gingerly, you try to pry Joel’s grip off you, half a mind to slip into the bathroom to brush your teeth before he wakes up. But he stirs behind you, breaking the morning quiet with a deliciously low grumble. ‘Where y’ goin’, sweetheart?’

‘Bathroom.’

‘In a bit,’ he says, rolling you over so that you’re face-to-face.

His hair is endearingly mussed, eyes heavy with sleep, and he leans in to kiss you. Awkwardly, you draw back ever so slightly, but Joel catches the movement, and he frowns.

‘What’s wrong?’

Embarrassed, your cheeks touched with heat, you stutter, ‘I - um - I have morning breath.’

Joel blinks, then one corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. ‘So what?’

Thrown by his nonchalant reply, you shrug. ‘Um, I don’t know - do you - want me to brush my teeth before -’

He doesn’t let you finish, pressing his lips against yours, tongue swiping inside with a groan.

Pulling back, pleased at the way you’re staring at him with your eyes glazed and lips wet, he grins. ‘You taste good.’

‘Joel -’

A squeal escapes you when he rolls you under him without warning, biceps flexing with the movement. He brushes his nose against yours, while something else much bigger and harder nudges between your thighs, and he rasps in your ear.

‘Let’s see where else you taste good, sweetheart.’

Note: Thank you for this request @suzmagine! This was a great warm up since we're heading in this direction for the main series, I cannot wait to write what happens the evening before 😉

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the divider.

[etclouie]

Can I get "Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to." for Remus Lupin, please?

˚୨୧⋆｡ — title; your moony (remus lupin x fem!reader)

˚୨୧⋆｡ — prompt/s; “mark me. mark me so everyone knows who i belong to” — from "𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙝, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩…" 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨 

˚୨୧⋆｡ — warnings; established relationship, marking/biting (remus receiving), kinda jealous!reader and possessive!reader, that’s it (226 words)

˚୨୧⋆｡ — a/n; remus is deff into marking/biting, you cannot change my mind

— thank you for celebrating with me || submissions are now closed!!

you’d dragged Remus away from the party in the Gryffindor common room, one girl getting way too friendly for your liking. 

which of course had a smirk tugging at Remus’ lips the whole walk back up to his dorm, his hands eagerly entwined with yours. 

once inside his dorm, he sat on his bed before he pulled you down into his lap. his hands soothed across your sides while yours lay on his shoulders, your jealousy still lingering. 

and Remus knew it. 

his hands squeezed at your hips, pulling your attention back to him. 

meeting your eyes, he chuckled. he leaned in to catch your lips in a kiss before he whispered out to you. 

“mark me. mark me so everyone knows who i belong to”

his words had a flicker of possessiveness flaring inside you, and before you knew it you were leaning in. 

nipping across his neck and his throat, leaving marks across the skin while a smirk made its way onto his face. 

he squeezed at your hips again, whispering out as you continued to leave marks across his skin. 

“i’m all yours love, don’t have to worry”

you huffed, biting at the corner of his jaw before whispering in his ear. 

“want everyone to know you’re mine”

and if Remus didn’t have a smirk on his face before? he certainly did now. 

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[pupkashi]

hey jess my sunshine, may i request this prompt w kento, please 🥺 “do you think we’d still be a couple in an alternate universe?” “go to bed.” “what if we already got married and have five kids.” “go to bed.”  also i'm tucking you in and kissing ur forehead!💛

hi julie my beloved forest fairy !! <3 i hope you enjoy this sweet little piece :3

join the sleepover!

“coffee doesn’t even affect me anymore ken, plus I’m dying to eat this sweet bread i bought at the bakery” you had pouted at your lover, watching as his disapproving face turned softer from your words.

“fine, but don’t make it as strong as you usually do!” he had warned, you were too giddy to care, making as you usually did and running back to the living room, placing it on the coffee table and flicking on the tv.

it’s two hours later, and kento can’t keep his eyes open for another second. meanwhile you’re wide eyed and gasping at the drama unfolding on the screen in front of you.

“can you believe she’s blaming him! he’s been nothing but perfect and- babe?” you cut yourself off, looking at the man who is now fast asleep next to you. there’s a small smile on your face, pausing the tv before gently shaking him. “ken? wake up let’s go to bed, your neck is gonna hurt like this” you whisper, watching as he slowly comes to, blushing a bit as he nods.

the two of you get ready for bed fairly quickly, slipping under the warm blanket and immediately gravitating into each others arms. nanami is quick to close his eyes, already being welcomed back into the sweet abyss of his dreams-

“do you think we’d still be a couple in an alternate universe?” you whisper, breath tickling his neck and causing the welcoming arms of sleep to move further and further away.

“maybe, go to sleep” he mumbles, adjusting himself a bit so that he isn’t mumbling against the top of your hair.

“maybe? you don’t think we’re destined to date in every life?” you question, teasing him a bit and propping yourself up on your elbow.

nanami knows what you’re doing, and he’s blaming the late night caffeine for it. “we absolutely are fated in our every live, my love” he says, eyes opening a bit, “now go to sleep,” his voice is a bit raspy as he nuzzled his face into the pillow below him.

“what if in one of those lives we’re already married and have five kids” you ask not even a minute later, staring at your blonde boyfriend, curious it’s in your eyes and a small smile on your face. “do you think we have a small wedding? what’s the girl to boy ratio?”

“my love-” he begins, opening his eyes and sitting up a bit more to face you better.

“i bet you spoil any girl we have rotten, and you probably bake pastries for them on Sunday mornings” you giggle, already getting carried away as you think of the version of you two in some other universe.

“darling go to sleep” he groans, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his chest, squeezing you tightly and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “never letting you drink coffee after 10 ever again” he mumbles, already closing his eyes.

“g’night lover” you whisper, finally closing your eyes and your thoughts stilling for a moment. the only sound in your bedroom is nanami’s even breathing.

“would you still love me if i was a worm?” you whisper, a smile breaking onto your face when you hear kento groan at your question.

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Pajama Party Drabbles

Fantod - Thor

Tenebrific - Captain Syverson

Dyspathy - Tony Stark

Retrogradation - Raymond Smith

Compotation - Sam Wilson

Unparadiz’d - Ransom Drysdale

[inkdrinkerworld]

 “are you asleep?” “...no.” with bucky again because I can’t get enough of him!! p.s luv u and very excited about ur sleepover hehe

Ahh Mal this was one so domestic!!!!

Bucky doesn’t make it a habit of coming home late, it’s just that these last few weeks of being congressman have been taking it out of him.

It’s dark when he gets into your home, the only light on is your kitchen light and he can see a plate of food covered on the table.

He smiles when he sees it. The plate is still a little warm when he touches it. Bucky eats fast, wanting to catch you before you fall asleep if he can.

By the time he makes it to your bedroom, he’s already down to his boxers. He slips behind you quietly.

You hum when you feel him, leaning into his body a little and Bucky smiles.

“Are you asleep, doll?” His lips press into your shoulder, nose in the junction where your neck and shoulder meet.

It takes a minute for your answer to come, and when it does it’s heavily coated in sleep and gravel, “No,” Bucky chuckles, pulling you closer to him. “How was the meeting thing?”

You feel him shake your head, but it’s like your ears are plugged because his words take a moment to register. “A load of crap. Waste of my evening.”

“Least you’re home now.” Bucky would tell you in the morning that you barely mumbled in English, but all he does is kiss your back and link your fingers together.

“Go back to sleep, doll.” Neither of you are awake for much after that.

[societyfolklore]

White Wine In The Sun

Title: White Wine In The Sun (Prompt- let's go somewhere warm for the winter)   Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary:  It’s been years since Bucky has truly celebrated Christmas, but this year, he finds himself reluctantly agreeing to spend the holidays with you at your childhood home—a sunny, warm retreat in Australia.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings:  Romance, Little Angsty and Fluff, Kissing A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge- Day 16) As an Australian Christmas is a different experience for us.. Also it’s 40+/104 degrees here today LOL taking inspo from White Wine In The Sun by Tim Minchin

The sound of jet engines roared in the background as Bucky adjusted his duffle bag over his shoulder, glancing down at the boarding pass in his hand. A flight to Melbourne, Australia, was far from how he imagined spending his Christmas. He looked over at you, the excitement on your face unmistakable as you juggled your carry-on and passport.

"You sure you want to drag me along for this?" he muttered, his tone low but tinged with humour.

You smiled at him, nudging his arm. "I'm not dragging you. You're coming willingly. Mostly."

He huffed, shaking his head but allowing you to guide him toward the gate. "Just remember, this was your idea," he said, though there was no bite to his words.

As you boarded the plane and found your seats, Bucky couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. He had never been one for big family gatherings, and the thought of spending Christmas with your family in a small country town made him a little anxious. But as he looked over at you, he saw the excitement in your eyes and knew he couldn't say no.

The flight was long, but eventually, you arrived in Melbourne and made your way to the rural property where you grew up. The drive long from the capital, though Bucky could practically watch you vibrate in the driver's seat next to him, the aircon already blasting in the car. You regaled him with stories of Christmases past in in the country. “Down here, Christmas is typically BBQ, white wine, beers and prawns.” You did wonder if Bucky would miss snow and roaring fires. He listened quietly, his lips quirking into small smiles when you told him about your dad’s chaotic attempts to make pavlova and your siblings’ insistence on Christmas karaoke when everyone got too drunk or had to much sugar.

“It’s… different,” Bucky said cautiously as he looked out car window, watching the paddocks of dry grass and gumtrees past by.

“You’ll love it,” you assured him, squeezing his hand. “It might not be snowy and cold, but it’s still magical. And I want you to experience it with me.” The house was a beautiful, some old farm house with a wrap-around veranda and large trees surrounding it. Dogs running around the gardens by the house as the car pulled up the long drive. As you stepped out of the car, Bucky followed getting hit in the face by the stifling heat that seemed to not affect you at all as he took in the sights and sounds of the property. You led him to the front door, Bucky looked uncomfortable in the heat already.  Your parents came bustling out to greet you, their enthusiasm immediately overwhelming Bucky, though he managed a polite smile as they pulled you into hugs.

“And this must be Bucky,” your mom said warmly, extending a hand. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Thank you for having me,” he said, his voice quiet but genuine.

Your dad clapped him on the back, nearly making him stumble. “Come on in! Bet you’re starving after that flight.” “Your fathers even put the aircon on.” “Oh it is a special occasion!” You chime trying not to laugh as you both got ushed inside into the cool. “Thought your poor boy might melt on us if I didn’t.” You hoped Bucky had been around you long enough to understand ‘Australian’ humour or this might be a long few days for him.

Thankfully  Bucky adjusted to the unorthodox holiday traditions your family embraced. He helped your dad man the BBQ as more family descended on the house, earning approving nods for his efficient handling of the steaks. Your sister arrival  with her small family resulted in your shrieking like someone had doused you in ice water, Bucky had barely enough time to register what was going on before you took off sprinting across the lawn almost taking her to the ground in a hug  while her husband carried their new infant daughter from the car. “ABBY!” Abby squealed in delight, squeezing you just as tightly as you embraced her, both of you laughing like kids again. “Oh my God, look at you! You’re glowing!” you exclaimed, pulling back to hold her at arm’s length. “And her! Let me see her!”

Her husband chuckled, carefully shifting the tiny bundle in his arms toward you. “Meet baby Lucy,” he said proudly.

Your heart melted instantly as you reached for the baby, cradling her with practiced ease. “Oh, Abby, she’s perfect,” you breathed, your eyes misting as you took in the soft, delicate features of your new niece. Lucy yawned, her tiny face scrunching up before settling into a peaceful expression, and you swore your heart grew three sizes.

“Bucky!” you called over your shoulder, your excitement brimming over. “Come ‘ere! You ‘ave to meet her!”

Bucky, who had just finished placing a perfectly grilled steak onto a serving tray for your dad, looked up from the BBQ. He hesitated for only a moment, his brows knitting together in a mix of curiosity and cautiousness, before making his way over.

“This is Bucky,” you introduced as he approached, your smile wide as you gestured to him with one hand while still holding Lucy in the other. “And Bucky, this is my sister Abby, her husband Jake, and the newest addition to the family—baby Lucy.”

Abby gave Bucky a once-over, her expression swiftly turning approving. “So ‘is is the famous Bucky,” she said, her voice teasing. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Bucky glanced at you, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “All good things, I hope.”

“Mostly,” Abby teased with a smirk before extending her hand. “Welcome to the chaos. If you survived the BBQ, you’re halfway there.”

Bucky shook her hand, his grin softening. “Thanks. And congrats, by the way. She’s beautiful.”

“Want to ‘old her?” Jake asked suddenly, catching everyone off guard. He stepped closer, offering the baby to Bucky.

“Oh, uh…” Bucky’s eyes widened slightly, and he instinctively stepped back. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“You’ll be fine mate,” Jake assured him with a friendly smile. “She’s lighter than a ‘ag of flour. ‘ust support her head, and you’re golden.”

“Go on,” you encouraged gently, your voice filled with warmth. “She wont bite—yet.”

Reluctantly, Bucky nodded, his expression a mix of uncertainty and determination. Jake carefully handed Lucy over, and Bucky held her with the same precision and care he might handle a priceless artifact. His metal hand rested firmly under her body, supporting her weight as his flesh hand cradled her head.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Lucy stirred slightly, her tiny fist waving in the air before she settled again, and Bucky let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“She likes you,” Abby said softly, her teasing replaced with genuine warmth.

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile as he looked down at the baby in his arms. “She’s... so small,” he murmured, his voice full of wonder.

Your heart swelled at the sight. You hadn’t expected this, but seeing Bucky—calm, tender, and utterly captivated by your niece—was enough to make your chest ache with affection. You exchanged a quiet glance with Abby, her knowing smile mirroring your own.

“Well,” Jake said with a grin, “looks like Uncle Buck a natural.”

Bucky’s gaze flicked up, meeting yours with a hint of surprise at the title, but you just smiled softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah,” you said. “He really is.”

Your younger cousins dragged him into a backyard cricket game, where he quickly became the star player despite his initial protests. Watching him laugh as the kids cheered his every move made your heart swell as you sat with your infant niece asleep on your shoulder.

As Christmas day turned into Christmas night and the endless buffet of festive eating turned into casual grazing under twinkling string lights, you found Bucky sitting on the back veranda staring out at the horizon where the sun dipped below the trees. You joined him, handing him a cold drink. You could see a mob of roos bouncing their way across the far paddock.

“It’s different, huh?” you asked, sitting beside him.

He nodded, his gaze distant. “Yeah. Different… but nice.” He glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Your family’s great.”

“They love you already,” you said, leaning your shoulder against his. “And I love seeing you like this—relaxed, happy.”

Bucky’s smile faded slightly, his brow furrowing. “It’s not something I’m used to,” he admitted. “Being around so much… joy. It’s good, though. I’m trying.”

You reached over, taking his hand in yours. “You’re doing great, Buck. And I’m proud of you.” Bucky glanced down at your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as his expression softened. The quiet moment between you seemed to stretch, filled with the faint hum of cicadas and the distant laughter of your family inside the house.

“I didn’t think I’d fit in Doll,” he murmured, his voice low and almost hesitant. “I mean, this—your family, all this… normalcy. I wasn’t sure it was for me.”

You smiled, leaning into him just a little more. “You’re wrong, you know. You fit in just fine. Better than fine, actually. I think my dad’s ready to adopt you after that steak performance.”

A small laugh escaped him, a sound that was still rare enough to make your chest tighten with affection. “Yeah, your dad’s good people.”

“You’re good people,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “And, for the record, you’re doing a lot better than the time Uncle Rick burned half the backyard trying to light the BBQ.”

Bucky chuckled at that, the sound warming the cool night air. “Guess I’ve got that going for me.”

For a moment, the two of you simply sat there, watching the horizon as the last hints of sunlight disappeared and the stars began to blink into view. The quiet comfort between you felt like its own kind of holiday magic—simple, real, and grounding.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, more reflective. “Thanks for bringing me here. For… all of this.”

You turned to look at him, catching the vulnerability in his expression as he stared out at the stars. “You deserved it, Bucky,” you said softly. “You deserve every bit of this—every laugh, every hug, every moment of peace.”

His hand tightened slightly around yours, and when he turned his gaze to meet yours, there was something unspoken in his eyes—something raw and grateful. “You make it easier to believe that,” he said, barely above a whisper.

You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Good. Because it’s true.”

The distant laughter of your family drifted out onto the porch, pulling both of you back to the present. Bucky glanced toward the house, his smile growing as he squeezed your hand. “So, when do I get my own honorary ugly Christmas shirt?”

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “Oh, you’re in for it next year, Barnes. And it’s going to have tinsel.”

That night, after everyone else had gone to bed, you and Bucky found yourselves alone on the porch, the warm breeze carrying the scent countryside and flowers. The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both like a blanket.

Bucky reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’ve given me something I didn’t think I’d ever have Doll,” he said quietly. “A home. A place I belong.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you leaned closer, pressing your forehead to his. “You are my home, Bucky. Always.” The kiss that followed was slow and tender, deepening as months of unspoken longing finally broke free. Bucky’s hands roamed your back, pulling you closer until you were both breathless. He scooped you into his arms, carrying you inside.

[sunskisser]

🧣 maybe james potter + “you’re already wearing half of my clothes, i genuinely don’t see how us cuddling will make this any weirder” with a friends to lovers...? 👀

thank you for the request! here's your scarf lovely :)🧣

— "You're already wearing half of my clothes, I genuinely don't see how us cuddling will make this any weirder."

james potter x reader

tw: fluffy fluff, james is a flirt <3

“Hey.”

You look up to see none other than James Potter grinning at you as he walks down the stairs. He has one hand raking through his curls, the other fist pressed against his hip. A cramped muscle, by the looks of it. His shirt rides up the slightest bit — giving you an unobstructed view of his abdomen.

“Hi,” you reply, hoping you don’t sound as breathless as you feel. “Hi, James.” You sit up straighter, flattening the unruly strands of hair on your head and readjusting your crumpled clothes. Your heart felt like it was going to jump right out of your throat.

James lets out a quiet chuckle when he notices you forcibly trying to look away. “What are you doing up so late?”

He drapes himself across the other end of the couch, teasingly raising his shirt higher. You feel your mind go blank. You swear you’re trying to meet his eyes, but your gaze gets stuck on his biceps, glistening and chiseled in the dim glow from the fireplace.

“I… um… I…” you squeak, mouth opening and closing like an idiot.

James hums almost teasingly, less like he’s acknowledging your answer and more like he’s thinking about the lack of one. He looks at you with a hint of bemusement and something else you can’t place.

“Use your words, pretty girl.”

“Oh – um… I dunno… I’m just, uh,” you clear your throat with a nervous chuckle, desperately looking around you. Your saviour comes in the form of a book, lying half-opened next to you. Remus must have mistakenly left it here.

“I’m reading,” you hold it up quickly, with a feeble attempt at a casual smile. You’re flustered and you know he knows it.

“Reading, huh?”

“Mhm.”

James raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. “Whatcha reading?”

You quickly turn the book over to look at the cover, and he sniggers. “It’s uh…” you squint, the title in some foreign language. Remus and his stupid multilingual tongue. You open your mouth, determined to make up some gibberish answer.

“You don’t know what you’re reading?”

“No, no! I do, but um…”

“Let me have a look at it,” he interrupts, a hint of teasing in his tone. You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as he leans over, fingers making you dizzy when they brush against yours.

James takes the book, but doesn’t spare it a glance. He’s looking at you.

His gaze flicks over you for a moment, expression morphing into a lot of different things before settling on a smile. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

You blink, surprised. You look down, and cringe – you’d meant to pull on one of Sirius’ ones, but with how messy the boys’ room was, you must’ve gotten mixed up. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry.”

He lets out a breath of laughter at the panic in your tone, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

James starts to frown when your expression doesn’t let up. You looked so guilty, it made his heart squeeze in awful ways.

“I really am sorry, I –”

“Seriously,” he interrupts, softening. “It’s no problem. Plus, you look absolutely lovely.”

Your eyes widen a fraction, the compliment sending a shot of giddiness through you. James' lips quirk up when he catches the hints of a shy smile on your lips.

You’re saved from having to respond by a sudden sound, a quiet snuff from beside you. Both of you quickly turn to the source of it, the room plunging into a much darker light. The fire had been snubbed out.

The dip in temperature was palpable instantly. You hadn’t noticed how much warmth the fire had been providing, but now that it was gone, the chill in the air was obvious. You curl into yourself with a shaky exhale.

“There’s no more firewood,” James mutters, more to himself. He turns to you, eyebrows twitching when he realises that you’re shivering. “Are you cold?”

“Um… a little.”

“C’mere.”

You blink at him. “Huh?”

“Come here,” he says easily, arms opening up in invitation as he pats the spot next to him.

“Like, for a hug?” Your voice sounds unnaturally high.

James exhales on a chuckle. “Yeah, sure. A hug, cuddles, whatever’s gonna help you warm up.” He pauses, eyebrows bunching up. “Look at you, sweetheart. You’re freezing.”

You stay stubbornly put, heart thudding against your ribs. You gnaw the inside of your cheek hesitantly.

James lets out an amused sigh, rolling his eyes fondly. “You’re already wearing half of my clothes, I genuinely don’t see how us cuddling will make this any weirder.”

That cracks you up a little, and James is quite proud of himself for the smile he manages to pull from you. 

“Okay,” you mumble.

Slowly, you scoot closer to him. He waits patiently, not until you’re within arms length, but until you curl up to him. Only then does he wrap his arms around you, the gentlest touch his calloused hands will allow him.

“Is this alright?”

You nod happily, relaxing into the softness of his body. He rubs your back. Even if the cold doesn’t immediately go away, the uncomfortableness sure does.

A while later, you tell James that you feel warmer. He grins and pulls you a little closer.

san's christmas sleepover

[drabblesandsnippets]

Imagine... (‘the first day of snow’)

Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

December Daze Challenge - Day 2 - @the-slumberparty

Warnings: (220w) Breeding kink. Established relationship - marriage. Bucky actually trying to knock you up?

Imagine Bucky having a breeding kink. How hard he’d come at the thought of leaving his mark on you in such an indelible way. How he’d get so turned on after filling you up that he’d push your legs back and fuck his cum back into you, picturing how radiant you’d look all swollen and pregnant with his child.  Once you marry him, he'd be insatiable, insisting on christening every part of the house as newlyweds, as if he was on a mission to see if his super soldier seed could get past your birth control. You wouldn’t exactly do anything to discourage him, more than willing to take advantage of how feral Bucky gets for you, even letting him convince you to break in the new patio loveseat in the backyard. He’d settle his warm body between your thick thighs and drape a blanket over both of you so he could take his time, making you come first with his fingers, then with his cock.  He’d be buried deep inside of you when your first snow as a married couple arrives, the beautiful sight of your orgasm rocking your body while snowflakes dust your hair Bucky's undoing. And when he spills himself inside of you once more, he’s determined that a year from now, you’ll be experiencing the first snow as new parents.

Day 1 | Imagine... Masterlist | Day 3

Banners by @cafekitsune - Divider by @saradika-graphics

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Special Surprise

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your husband surprises you with an unexpected invitiation but it might not be what it seems.

Character: Peter Parker

Day Eighteen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt -a crackling fire sets the mood.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Excuse me, miss, I have a reminder for you,” Friday’s voice startles you in the silence of the empty house. 

“Yes, Friday? I’ve already picked up the dry cleaning,” you say in resignation. 

“And I have crossed that off the list. Miss, this is a different reminder. You are to arrive at the cottage in three hours. Accounting for current traffic conditions, this means you will need to leave in the next hour.” 

Her voice seems to echo as you sit in confusion. You stare at your half-finished tea. Despite the heat of the porcelain against your hands, it offers little comfort. 

“Friday, I don’t recall setting this reminder,” you say at last. 

“Yes, miss. It was Mr. Stark.” 

You nod and your heart flips. For the first time in days, you feel... something. Your lips twitch and you sit up straight. Your shoulders hurt from the weight of the disappointment. Tony wouldn’t abandon you for Christmas. He just wouldn’t. You should’ve known he was pulling one over on you. 

You turn and hop down from the stool. You grab the tea and dump it down the sink. You wash and dry the mug, then put it away. It’s like your husband always says, how can you doubt him? 

“Miss, I have a list prepared to pack. Would you like my assistance?” 

“Please,” you accept. You’re so happy you can barely sort through your emotion to hear your own thoughts.  

Days you spent in dread of being alone. It’s the one thing you made Tony promise you when you said yes to his proposal. Don’t abandon you. You couldn’t take it. And when he told you about his mission abroad, you nearly broke down right there.  

He didn’t even apologise, just said that you knew who he was, that he had responsibilities. Yes, you knew, but he swore you were his priority. Well, he got you good. 

You follow Friday’s directive and pack your bag. You roll it down the hallway after you and let it bounce down the stairs after you. She informs you that the Lexus has a full tank and is waiting for you. Oh, Tony, you can never get anything without having to work for it a little. 

You can’t wait to see him. This month has been so lonely. You’ve barely spent a moment together as he only passes through on the way to his next briefing or appointment. 

You go into the garage and throw the bag in the trunk. Friday reminds you to bring a coat but you can’t help yourself. You tell her you’ll be just fine. The car has heat. 

You start the engine and Friday greets you from the speakers in the dash. She guides you through the gates and onto the mainway. You could bounce out of your seat but there’s no point getting so excited until you reach your destination. 

Oh Tony. Your heart is pumping as you grip the wheel tight. You have two hours at least ahead of you. Save your energy. 

By the time you come in site of the lake and around the dirt road, drifts of snow blowing through the trees, you’re yawning. You pull up as the windows haze with an amber glow. You can smell the smoke that plumes from the chimney. 

He outdid himself again. Ugh, you feel like such an asshole! You even thought of taking his gift back. Good thing it’s still in your closet. 

“Oh shoot!” You say aloud. 

“Miss, is there something the matter?” Friday asks. 

“Um, no, it’s fine,” you say as you shift into park, “Friday, thank you. Please go to standby.” 

“Initiating.” 

You shut off the engine and take a breath. Your chest is thrumming. Relief, excitement, happiness. You were starting to get worried. The thought of being alone through the holidays was devastating and then your mind raced to other things. Everyone knows about Tony’s reputation with women and those rumours hadn’t stopped since the wedding. 

You get out and grab your bag. It crunches over the thin sheet of snow as it mulches into the dirt. You drag it up the stairs and stop on the porch, looking down at the faint outline of footprints. He must have been here all day preparing. 

You let yourself in, hoping you might be able to surprise Tony in turn. You hear the fire crackling as the din flickers through the doorway and into the entryway. You ease the door shut and put your bag near the wall. You hang your jacket and take off your boots. 

You near the living room door and peek inside. He’s not there but you’re welcomed in nonetheless. On a fluffy rug in front of the fireplace, there’s two glasses and a bottle of water, along with a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries. 

You come closer and feel the heat in your cheeks as you grin. It’s perfect. Usually, Tony’s grand gestures are... grand, but this is just quaint enough to be cute. It’s so much better than a trip to Paris or an expensive diamond necklace. 

“Happy Holiday,” the voice that startles you scares you for more than its timing. It’s not the one you expect. 

You reel to look at Peter as he watches you from near the doorway. You blanch in horror. Oh my gosh. Did you misunderstand? Is this a group thing? If it is, why the wine and chocolate? You’re lost. 

“Peter, what...” you look at the rug then shake your head as you frown at him. “Where’s Tony?” 

“In Munich, I think,” he shrugs casually. 

“Munich? But—Friday said he was expecting me. That he’s here?” 

“Did Friday say that?” He tilts his head. “Cause that’s not what I programmed her to say.” 

“Not--- you?” You sputter. “It was you? Why?” 

“Why not?” He slowly crosses the room towards you. 

You notice the differences in him. His hair is parted neatly, you think there might even be gel in it, and he wears a dark blue button up that exposes just the top of his muscled chest. You gulp as he stops right in front of you. 

“Tony left. He flew halfway across the world. During the happiest time of year,” he reaches for you and you wince as he caresses your cheek. Your eyes round as your confusion turns to horror. It makes no sense. “He married you then abandoned you.” 

“No, he’s just... busy.” You catch his hand and sniff. “Peter--” 

“What?” He twists from beneath your grasp and grips you instead. He’s stronger than you expect. “You’re going to tell me he loves you? That you love him? I know you’ve been crying into your pillow. I know before you came here, you were sitting alone in that empty house.” 

“Enough,” you plead weakly. You can’t disagree because he’s right, but you don’t want to hear it. 

“Do you want to know where he really is?” He breathes as he brings his other hand up to cradle your face. “Not that it matters. He’s not here. I am.” 

“Peter,” your lip quivers. Peter is Tony’s protege, he’s a friend, he’s not like that. He can’t be that to you. You’re married and he’s-- “Peter,” you repeat, “please.” 

“I hurt too,” his voice quavers as he holds you tight. You latch onto his wrists but he doesn’t budge. “I’ve been hurting. Alone. Like you.” He leans in until his lips are right in front of yours. You whimper as you stare back at him helplessly. “I can make it better. I can make you feel better.” 

Before you can say anything, his mouth is on yours. He smothers you as he squeezes your head between his hands. You suffocate in his thrall and slap your hands against his chest. You feel the sheer strength bound there and slide your touch down as you try to shove him off. You’re only reassured of his power as you do. 

“Mrs. Stark,” he parts as he keeps your skull clamped between his hands as he leans his forehead against yours,“I need you.”