#I am going to start biting his fingers like baby carrots and dip them in some ranch

[girlandherfandom]

I am not sure what I was thinking of making these, but this one's for my Frank hand enthusiast out there. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Certain Type

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, fingering, oral, cheating

This is dark!Steve Rogers (and some side Bucky) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Steve Rogers has an unhealthy interest in his TA.

for @evnscvll​‘s 3k challenge, I used the prompts Professor AU + ‘Don’t’ by Bryson Tiller

Note: A quick one shot for y’all ft. Professor Steve and a little sleazy Bucky too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Reader📚

You smiled at Lauren as you handed her back her paper; the first assignment of the year. On the due date, Professor Rogers had shuffled them all up and handed you half the stack. That had been the same day as your first lesson. It had all been so overwhelming but more than a month and a half into the semester, you were starting to get a foothold.

“Have a good day,” You watched Lauren go, the last of the students to shuffle out into the hall. 

You grabbed the three papers left in the file folder and crossed to the podium. Your advisor, Professor Rogers, worked at erasing his slanted writing from the whiteboard. You waited patiently until he set down the eraser and turned to you.

“I have some leftovers.” You clapped the bottom of the folder on the wood. “Absentees.”

“Ah, yes,” He neared the other side of the podium and took the file from you. He flipped through the papers inside. “Only three? I think that’s a new record…” He closed the folder and tucked it under his arm. “I’ll hold onto them until next class.”

“Alright,” You nodded. “So… did you get a chance to look over my lesson on Kant?”

“I did,” He bent to grab his bag. “You know, I can really tell you’re a history major first… but it’s good. I’ll send you my notes tonight.”

“I’m trying to break that,” You went to the seat along the first row where you often sat when it wasn’t your turn to teach. You lifted your bag onto the seat. “Trying to focus less on the dry who’s and what’s and more on ideas.”

“Well, so far, you’re a quick learner,” He offered as you packed up your notebook. “We do need to go over the marking scheme for next week’s assignment. You able to make Saturday?”

“Uh,” You glanced at the icon on your phone screen. You had several unanswered and unread messages. “Actually, I’m… busy. I can stop by during regular office hours.”

“I try to keep that reserved for undergrads,” He inhaled. “But I wouldn’t ask you to cancel.”

“I can rearrange--”

“Boyfriend?” He interrupted. “Finally making time?”

“He’s been out of town,” You said meekly. “How about tomorrow? I can come to campus between your afternoon blocks.”

“Hmmm,” He dragged his fingertips over his trimmed beard. “Meet me at Smoky’s. I usually have a coffee there after my morning class.” He pushed the flap over the top of his bag. “They have great carrot muffins.”

“Works for me,” You lifted your leather bag and tucked your phone up your sleeve. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be,” He waved away your apology and went to the door. He opened it and waited expectantly. “We have lives. Some of us more than others.” He chuckled. “You deserve a Saturday to yourself.”

📚

You giggled as your head spun. Bucky pinned you beneath him as he rolled you over on the rug. What had started out as a none-so-innocent wrestling match had turned into your usual affair. He could never win an argument with you so it often ended with his lips, or his hand, smothering out your words.

Besides, you were eager for him. Almost desperate. Two weeks without him and you almost jumped on him the moment he opened the door. And after such a long week, you needed the stress relief.

His fingers tickled along your thigh and past the top of your stockings as he snaked beneath your skirt. You hadn’t started wearing them until you met him. He liked the short ones, especially on you. He pulled your panties aside and you gasped as his fingertips swirled around your clit. You latched onto his shoulders as his lips explored your throat.

“You’re wearing panties,” He growled.

“It’s cold out…” You breathed. 

“You’ve got a coat,” He nipped at your neck and slid his fingers down your folds. “Don’t you?”

You tried to close your legs and his pushed your knee down with his.

“Ah,” He warned. “None of your games.”

“I didn’t come here for a lecture,” You huffed. “I pay tuition for that.”

“We both know why you came here,” He lifted his head and pecked your lips. “How many times did you touch yourself while I was away?”

“That’s none of your business.” You snipped.

“Do you have toys?” His hot breath grazed along your cheek. “Do you think of me?”

“Bucky,” You whined as he poked his fingers inside of you. 

He purred as he dropped his head again and his teeth toyed with the tender flesh of your throat. He pulled your sweater up, rolling it with the tank top beneath until it was above your chest. No bra that day. He hummed and took you nipple in his mouth until your arched your back.

“Well…” He rolled your hard nipple between his thumb and index. “You’ve learned something.”

“Should I just come naked?” You asked.

“Preferably,” He chuckled as he ventured along your stomach, a trail of kisses and bites.

“Ugh,” You groaned as he brushed over your hips bones, his fingers still buried in you. 

He nosed along your pelvis and you tensed in expectation. He paused and raised his head. You looked down at him as his fingers stilled and he hovered close enough for his breath to tickle your cunt.

“What are you waiting for?” You snarled.

He smirked and closed the distance. His eyes never left yours as his tongue swirled around your clit and he sealed his lips around it. You gulped and let out a pathetic moan. His other hand gripped your hip and he hummed as your eyes rolled back and your legs hugged him closer.

“Ah, I missed you,” You stretched your arms out as you tilted into him. “Mmm, Bucky.”

He seemed pleased by your words as his fingers sped up and his tongue danced more firmly around your bud. You began to quiver as he set your nerves on fire. The knot inside of you tightened and the wire drew taut until you couldn’t bear it anymore. At once, you orgasmed, your hand flying down to grasp Bucky’s head as he lapped up your pleasure.

Panting, your body went limp and you laid sprawled out with his head between your legs, twitching as he drew out the ecstasy with his tongue. Slowly, he pulled away and slipped his fingers from inside you, rubbing them over your sensitive clit. He sat up and kneaded your thigh.

“Missed you too, baby,” He flicked open his fly with one hand. “God, I can’t wait any longer.”

Steve 📚

Steve hadn’t been to Bucky’s in a while. They usually met downtown for a beer or ended up at his place. As it was, it didn’t seem like they had much time for each other anymore. Well, Steve wasn’t surprised. His oldest friend was juggling a lot; his job, his fiancee, and apparently some new side piece.

He sat up as Bucky offered him a bottle of crisp beer. The top wisped as he accepted it and Steve felt its chill against his lips before he took his first sip. He sat back and bent his leg to rest over his other knee, rolling his ankle as he stared at the bare floorboards.

“What happened to the carpet?” He asked in realisation.

“It’s getting cleaned,” Bucky sat across from him and snickered. “You know, made a bit of a mess.”

“Anna?” Steve raised a brow.

“Nah,” Bucky shrugged. “She cancelled her flight. Apparently they had some emergency at the lab.”

“Hmm,” Steve rested the bottle atop the arm of the couch. “This other girl?”

“What am I supposed to do? I fly all the way to Germany for about twenty minutes of Anna’s attention. The last time…” He shook his head. “I just don’t know how to… end it. Don’t even know that I want to. I just want it to be over. Two years is a long time.”

Steve nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say. What advice could he offer? His last relationship hadn’t lasted long and had been so far back, he barely remembered more than her name. After a slew of bad dates and disappointing flings, he decided to focus on his work. Well, even that was becoming difficult.

“And when Anna comes back?”

“Well, you know, this girl, she’s still in college, she’s got a lot going on. It is what it is.” He said. “You know, she’d find another guy in an instant and forget about me.”

“College?” Steve blinked. He hadn’t known that. “A bit young.”

His cheeks burned. He wasn’t sure if he was reprimanding his friend or himself. The fact that Bucky was dipping into the campus pool reminded Steve of his own guilt. Sure, he hadn’t done anything, it was all professional, but his thoughts… His thoughts were what troubled him.

“You never… thought of it?” Bucky asked. “You spend so much time around these girls and you never even--”

“It’s against the rules,” Steve cleared his throat. “I’m there to teach. I do my job.”

“And when’s the last time you got laid?”

“Shut up,” Steve took a swig. “The carpet?”

“She’s funny. She likes to… play around first.” Bucky took a mouthful beer and his eyes turned dreamy. “It wasn’t me who ruined the carpet.”

“Mmm,” Steve jiggled his leg anxiously. The vision that flashed in his mind had him sipping again. It wasn’t Bucky and some faceless girl on the floor, it was him and the sweet TA. He cleared his throat and looked through the dark brown glass. “Just about done. You got another?”

“Maybe she has a friend?” Bucky offered as he stood.

He neared as Steve drained the last of his beer and handed over the empty bottle.

“Thirsty?” Bucky took it and disappeared, returning with a fresh one.

“Long week.” Steve rubbed his cheek as he leaned forward to take the second bottle. “Another ahead.”

“Well, I could ask her.” Bucky grabbed his own beer and stayed standing. “The young ones, these days, they don’t want anything serious.”

“But I do,” Steve grumbled. “Thanks but… no thanks.”

“Your loss,” Bucky said. “You know, she’s real wild. I took her to a baseball game. She hates the game but… what she did in the bathroom… wow.”

Steve gave a weak smile and chuckled dryly. He glanced around. The carpet wasn’t the only thing that had disappeared. That framed picture of Bucky and Anna was gone too and the mantle only held the antique gun mounted on mahogany.

“Too bad it’s off season now,” Bucky droned on as he lazily paced and drank his beer.

“Yeah,” Steve leaned back and felt something hard beside the cushion. 

He shifted but it poked him again. He reached down into the crevice as Bucky took the baseball he’d had signed years ago and began to toss it up and down as he complained about the last season. 

Steve pulled out the long cylinder and blinked at how familiar it was. He swallowed and tucked it into his jean pocket quickly as Bucky threw the ball in his direction. He barely caught it without spilling his beer and chucked it back with venom.

“The fuck, Bucky?”

“Good to see you still got it,” Bucky laughed. “Pizza?”

“Sure,” Steve huffed. “No pepperoni.”

“Boring,” Bucky said as he pulled out his phone.

Steve took a deep breath as Bucky set down his beer and lifted his phone to his ear. He stepped into the short hallway and greeted the other end, carefully placing an order for a large and a side of wings. 

As he did. Steve pulled out the pen and turned it between his fingers. The daisy pendant that dangled from the end, the initials etched into the rose gold, the little scratch along the tip. It was definitely hers. His stomach sank and he quickly hid it as Bucky’s voice died.

He’d have to be sure. He’d give it back to her the next day and see.

Reader📚

You were heartened by Steve’s interest as you finished up your last slide. The lesson had gone well and the class was interested in what could otherwise be a dry topic. You took questions but found many of them were simple enough. The students seemed to understand well enough and you reminded them to submit their next assignment by Wednesday night.

Several students stopped to ask you about your office hours before the room finally emptied. Steve approached as you slid your papers into your notebook and closed it. He reached over the podium and set down the metal pen. The one your mother had gifted you when you were accepted to your masters program.

“You forgot this,” He let it roll down to the lip and catch there.

“Oh my god, I’ve been looking for this,” You grabbed it and spun it in your fingers. “Thanks so much! I’d hate for anyone else to just claim it.”

“No problem,” His blue eyes were, for once, humourless.

“Where was it?”

His brows shot up and his lips parted. He looked over his shoulder then back to you.

“U-under the desk,” He pointed to your usual seat. “Caught my eye during one of my other classes.”

“Well,” You fiddled with it and gathered up your notebook. “It needs a refill anyway.”

You grabbed your bag and shoved your things inside. You were glad he’d found it, you had been convinced you’d left it at Bucky’s and he had been evasive since Saturday. Work, as usual. Well, what did you expect? He was older and unlike college boys, he couldn’t just skip.

“I liked it,” Steve hovered around you, a hand in his pocket. “I see you took my advice.”

“Oh, the lesson,” You looked up at him as you lifted your bag. “Yeah, well, it would’ve been a disaster without you.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “So, you got another class now?”

“Thesis work,” You said. “Library.”

“Fun,” He remarked. “You know… if you don’t… if you need a quiet place, you can use my office. I have some stuff to take care of before my next block so…”

“Oh, I don’t… know, I wouldn’t want to…”

“It’s pretty big anyway. Even if I was there, I probably wouldn’t even notice you.” He said. “And there’s a bluetooth speaker in there. A gift I never really use but you’re free to.”

“I, um…” You considered the library and the stuffy, dry air. The noise of hidden food wrappers and buzzing whispers. “You sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Go on,” He grabbed his bag and checked his watch. “I don’t mind.”

“Twist my arm,” You accepted.

“I’ll have to unlock it for you,” He went to the door. 

“Uh, sure,” You followed him into the hall and waited as he locked up the classroom.

Silently, you walked beside him. You realised you didn’t have much to say about anything besides philosophy. You pulled out your phone. A message from Bucky. Finally. After days of radio silence.

“Sorry, baby, going out of town.” You hissed and blackened the screen.

“What’s up?” Steve asked as you followed him out into the late autumn chill.

“Nothing,” You shrugged.

“That boyfriend again?” He asked. 

“It’s whatever,” You grumbled. “Really.”

“I don’t know, it seems like every time I see you, he’s up to no good.”

“Well, he’s… busy.”

“And? You are too.”

“Yeah, but...I mean…” You were quiet as you walked along the campus path. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t--”

“I don’t mind. A little bit of impersonal gossip is… fun. And your secret’s safe with me.”

You glanced over at him and then around at the students all around.

“He’s older,” You admitted. “So… he’s always busy.”

“Older? Like what? A year or two?”

“A bit more than that,” You said nervously. “More…”

You were quiet again. He led you up the steps of the philosophy building and as he always did, opened the door. 

“...Your age.” You finished.

He blinked and tailed you inside, gesturing you up the stairs. You often did prep in his office so you didn’t need much guidance as he followed you up.

“Oh, old-old,” He scoffed. “I get it.”

You laughed, despite yourself and he came up beside you as you reached the third floor.

“You’re supposed to say ‘No, Professor Rogers, you’re not old’,” He chided as he rounded the corner and stopped in front of his office door. “Or something like that.”

“Sorry, I--”

As he reached into his pocket for his keys, a chiming tune filled the hallway. He pulled out his phone instead and apologized as he put it to his ear.

“Hey,” He cradled it with his shoulder as he fished for his keys. “What’s up, Buck?”

He shoved the key into the slot and the audible friction of metal in metal was like a knife to your heart. ‘Buck’? You frowned as he pushed open the door and waved you inside. He stayed at the threshold as he continued his call.

“Germany? I thought you said-- Ahh, okay, yeah,” He leaned on the doorframe. “Anna will be happy to see ya. Oh yeah, been a while.” He tilted his head. “We’ll reschedule. No problem. Yep. Have a good one.”

You waited anxiously as he hung up and stepped inside. He tucked his phone away and checked his watch again.

“Sorry, old friend. He’s going to see his fiancee and well--” He stopped himself. “Anyways, desk is there, speaker is…” He went to the shelf and pulled forward a rather expensive gadget. “Here. Maybe you’ll have better luck figuring it out.”

“Uh, thanks,” You nodded, almost dumbfounded as your mind began to whir. “I appreciate it. I won’t be more than an hour or two.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks, again.”

“Not at all,” He went to the door and turned back. “See ya tomorrow.”

“Sure,” You smiled.

He closed the door behind him as he went. You dropped your bag and fumbled for your phone. You tore it out of your pocket and swiped up. You searched through your contacts and hit call. It had to be a coincidence. Right?

“Hey,” Bucky answered from the other end, a din of activity around him. “I’m just about to fly out.”

“You’re engaged?” You hissed.

“What-- I-- How did you--”

“You are!” You snarled. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you! So have you been busy with work or with her?”

“Baby, it’s--”

“Don’t call me baby,” You retorted. “In fact, don’t call me. Ever.”

You hung up. A floorboard creaked and you turned around. Steve stood in the open door.

“Sorry, I… forgot to grab something,” He pointed past you. “I didn’t mean to--”

“I gotta go,” You bent to pick up your bag. “I’m sorry, I--” 

You neared but he blocked the door with his body.

“Bucky?”

“Your friend,” You uttered. “I didn’t know. I-- Did you?”

“No,” He answered. “Not until… now.”

“Well, now you do.”

“You don’t have to go because of-- I don’t care,” He said.

“I do. I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. He lied. How could you know?” He touched your arm.

“Isn’t he-- he’s your friend. You should be defending him,” You recoiled.

“And? He can be my friend and still be wrong,” He stepped closer and you back up, his hand lingered along your elbow. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Professor, but I should--”

“Steve,” He corrected you. “I think we know each other well enough.”

He got closer again and you continued to retreat. He kicked the door closed behind him and you flinched.

“What are you--”

He leaned in and you were surprised by his hand on your chin. You dropped your bag and tried to wriggle away. He kissed you and you pushed against his chest. Your skin was alight as your insides wrenched. He parted, at last, his hand still around your jaw.

“What are you doing?” You breathed. 

“You deserve better,” His kissed your again and you bit his lip.

“Professor--”

“Steve,” He insisted and squeezed your chin.

“Let me go,” You grabbed his wrist.

He marched you backwards until you were against his desk. You clutched his wrist tightly but he didn’t budge.

“What? You’ll fuck him but not me?” He sneered. 

“It’s not-- you’re my advisor. I--” Your hand slipped down his arm as you panicked. “Please.”

“I’ve tried so hard not to think about it. About you.” He pushed you against the desk, bending you back until you were flat atop it, your legs hanging off. He loomed over you. “Thinking I was too old and yet I just wanted to have you... Right here… in the front of the class. Mmm, and then I find out you’re fucking him and I realise… you want it just as bad.”

“No, no, “Prof-- Steve,” You pleaded as his hand slid down to your neck. “I-- It was only… It was just sex.”

“Did you ever think of me when you were with him? Huh?” His lips were just above yours. “I thought of you. He told me about you but I didn’t even realise… I heard you do all sorts of naughty things.”

His other hand tugged at your blouse and you writhed helplessly.

“He told me you wore these little skirts for him,” He pressed his lips to your cheeks. “That you kept them on as he fucked you.”

“Steve,” You whined. “Stop!”

“Or what? It’d be a waste to toss away almost a semester’s work…” He snarled. “You know what they do to students who cross professional bounds? I have a duty to report such misconduct.”

“No, no, you--”

“Who are they going to believe?” He snapped. “Hmm, especially when it comes out you been fucking a man twice your age on the side.”

“They-- Steve,” You tried to catch his hand as he tugged on your pants. “You’re scaring me.”

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted our first time to be,” His hand snaked around and he pulled your pants down to your thighs in a single wipe. “That was before I knew how you like it.”

He held you down by your throat as he forced your pants past your knees, your panties twisted in the folds. He brought his foot up to push them further and free them from your ankles.

His hand flew back up your leg and he pushed two fingers against your cunt as you squirmed. He pressed deeper and rubbed along your folds as he bent over you again. He kissed you and drew back before you could bite him.

“You’re wet, kitten,” He purred. “We both know what you want.”

He toyed with you, flicking his fingers over your clit and dragging them back down. He repeated the motion several times until you bit your lips and slapped at the desk.

“Look at you,” He pushed his middle fingers inside of you and your back arched. “He didn’t care about you. Not like I do.”

He pressed the heel of his hand to your clit and curled his fingers. He squeezed and you gasped. He pulled his hand down and spread it over your chest, holding you down as he played with you. He sped up and his fingers clutched your blouse as he shook your body. You closed your eyes as you tried to resist the coil winding tightly inside you.

You mewled and he hushed you. You gritted your teeth and slapped your hand over his. He rocked his hand faster and you struggled to catch your breath. Your nails dug into the back of his hand and you pressed your lips together to hold in the sudden rise. You spasmed as you came atop the desk.

He slowed his hand and when he withdrew, you felt empty and cold. You opened your eyes as he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked clean his fingers. He hummed and ran his hands over your thighs. 

“Stand up,” He ordered. 

You stayed as you were, shaking, and stared at him. You drew your legs together and he pinched you.

“Now,” He growled.

You pushed yourself up and slid off the edge of the desk. He grabbed your open jacket and pulled it down your arms. Then he tore the hem of your blouse up and you were forced to raise your arms as he stripped away the cotton blend. Your bra fell loose as he swiftly unclasped the hooks and it fell away from your arms.

He grasped your shoulders and ran his hands down your front, cupping your chest as he took in every inch of you. He grabbed your arm and spun you to face the desk. He took your hands in his and placed them flat on the top. 

“Stay,” He bid. “I won’t tell you twice.”

His hand grazed your ass and he spanked you lightly. You winced and he reluctantly drew away. You trembled as you listened to him behind you. He dropped his jacket over your shoulder on the desk in front of you. Then his zipper whispered in the tense silence and he stepped closer until you felt his warmth against your naked back. He kicked your feet apart with his leather shoe and fumbled around behind you.

You flinched as his hand brushed against you and you felt him prodded along your ass. He leaned against you and guided your hand further over the desk. He dragged his tip along your folds, poking until he found your entrance. You tried to push away from the desk and he leaned on you heavier.

“He can’t make you feel like I can,” He rasped in your ear as he slid into you. “How does that feel, kitten?”

He impaled you entirely and your fingers curled against the wood. You gulped and hung your head.

“Answer me,” He wrapped his arm around your neck and forced your head up. “Be a good girl.”

“G-good,” You stuttered as he thrust into you.

“Yeah,” He breathed against your scalp. “Better than him?”

He rocked steadily against you as you struggled to keep yourself from folding over the desk. He grabbed your hip and sank his nails into the flesh.

“When I ask a question, you answer me,” He warned. “Like the good girl you are.”

“Y-y-yes,” You stammered as your thighs tingled. “B-b-better than… h-him.”

“Much better than I ever imagined,” His hot breath seeped into you as he nuzzled the crown of your head. “Fuck.”

You moaned as his arm wrapped snugger around your neck, his muscles hard through the soft fabric of his shirt. His flesh clapped against yours as he rutted into you. Deeper, faster. You slapped at his arm with one hand as your other remained planted on the desktop. You were on tiptoe as you orgasmed, barely muffling it as you bit down on your lip.

“That’s it,” He purred. “That’s it. Oh, kitten, I don’t think I can handle much more. Can you?”

He sped up again and your knees buckled dangerously. His arm tightened until he was choking you entirely, drawing you flush against him. You grasped at his arm and he pushed you closer to the desk until you were pressed to it. The soles of your boots, the only clothing still left to you, slipped on the floor and you came again as you fought for air.

“Ah, here I go.” He grunted.

He slammed into you as his other arm hugged your waist and he lifted you off your feet with his final thrusts. He spilled into you and slowed. As he still, he sighed and his arms loosened just a little. He turned you and rested against his desk, still inside you. 

He drew you into his lap as he slid back and bent his head against your shoulder. His hand fluttered along your cunt, hovering over it as he caught his breath.

“I’ll tell Bucky to leave you alone,” He muttered. “And you will do the same.”

[vickyvicarious]

Eliot sweet talking Nana into sharing her secret family recipes so he can get more vegetables into both Hardison and Parker.

I was just going to write a short headcanon post about this but then the first line popped into my mind along with a line about Eliot utilizing his retrieval skills, and then next thing I knew this was a fic. First in this fandom so go easy on me.

(AO3 link.)

.

The carrot cake was the final straw.

Eliot knew his partners had terrible diets, okay? It was impossible for anyone to miss that, the way Hardison would just fill up any empty space in any fridge with orange soda, or Parker would get more cereal than was physically possible to store in the cupboard until there was at least one box permanently sitting on the table. He was well aware, and he’d been taking steps for a while to deal with matters.

He bought Hardison a fridge of his own - a mini fridge - and just poured out any soda he found anywhere else. He impressed upon Parker that just this shelf was for cereal and solemnly swore to her that he would never let it get beyond half-empty before filling it again. In the meantime, he filled the rest of his kitchen with actual ingredients, and always had a bowl of fruit out so they would have something healthy as an easy-to-grab snack. He didn’t put anything Parker liked hidden on a high shelf, because she’d find that fun; just small decoy portions while he kept most of his chocolate inside an old Wheat Thins box at the back of the cracker shelf. Speaking of chips, if he opened the bag of a good brand, then Hardison would gravitate toward it once he’d finished his Cheetos instead of going out to buy more, so that was just a matter of letting him buy one bag and then watching the level and timing when to get the other stuff out.

They both ate meat well enough, though Hardison liked to put in requests for absolutely sacrilegious misuses of various cuts; when Eliot humored him and actually destroyed his fish or brisket or whatever else as requested, he actually did seem to enjoy it, which was... very wrong, and disappointing, but at least the food was still going in his body. Parker quite liked some types of pasta now, and she seemed to enjoy when he put effort into plating things up nicely, but she was still a work in progress on any actual mealtime like a family (or a date. Not that Eliot hadn’t had to eat on the run plenty of times before, but - he’d had to. You don’t walk in to a table set for multiple healthy, delicious, innovative courses he’d been cooking for hours and then just grab bites as you wander around the room! He’d had wine out! Norah Jones playing softly in the background! No candles because he wasn’t an idiot, but it was clearly a romantic meal! What the hell kind of untrained toddler behaviour-).

Breakfast was easy, since they both liked eggs and there were a lot of ways to go from there. Breakfast potatoes were a hit too, and bacon, and they’d even eat oatmeal if he smothered it in sugar so that was something. For lunch, Hardison at least appreciated a good sandwich. Granted, usually only a stolen one because he didn’t like to make any kind of food at all that didn’t come out of a plastic package with microwave instructions on the side (and that had been an argument for the ages, the microwave one. Frankly most things could be heated better on a pan or in an oven, and those that were meant for the microwave were usually mass-produced garbage Hardison really didn’t need in his diet, but he disagreed vehemently and in the end that was one battle Eliot had definitively lost), but once Eliot caught on, he just started making double whatever he ate. Parker scoffed at the idea of lunch, for some reason, claiming that a granola bar or a brownie would get her through till dinner, but if he packed a lunchbox to look interesting and then gave it to her, she’d usually eat it. He just stocked up on bento boxes and made various kinds of colorful and/or childish looking foods and they came back mostly empty so that was good enough.

(Hardison claimed to have gotten jealous about it. Eliot was pretty certain he was making fun of him, so obviously he said he’d be caught dead before packing a lunch for him. He was a grown man and could do it himself.

“She’s a grown woman!” he complained, pointing at Parker, who was sitting perched on the back of an armchair nibbling away at her kraken bento - black noodle limbs, gyoza face, and grabbing a little egg scuba diver. “Sh-she should have to - this is discrimination!”

“Stay away from my octopus,” she squinted menacingly. When Hardison just glared mulishly back, she hugged the food closer to her chest. “It’s not for you, this is my little dead man.”

She popped the egg into her mouth and chewed, never breaking eye contact.

He turned back to Eliot to complain some more, but apparently that was only an attempt to fake her out, because he tried to grab the gyoza barehanded and she screeched, flinging her chopsticks at his face before fleeing across the room. Noodles got everywhere, Hardison had two little round bruises on his cheek the next morning, and somehow Eliot wound up packing everyone lunches every morning after that, and putting notes on them to label who each one went to.

He did not put sappy notes instead the boxes. He wasn’t their parent, okay. The notes inside the lunch were only ever reminders they needed for the con, like Parker’s character’s peanut allergy and how she needed to have the attack exactly two minutes after the mark joined her at the break table, or for Hardison to lock Lucille II behind him because even if he could track down someone who took off in her, he really shouldn’t have to again.)

Anyway, Eliot had something of a system down at this point. It wasn’t perfect, but it was workable for the most part. The one exception was vegetables, which they both hated. He’d tried to hide them several times, but they often picked them out or he just couldn’t stand to puree broccoli into a little garnish/dip just because his girlfriend and boyfriend were both giant babies about actually eating them whole. He had to eat the food too, and he enjoyed himself some veggies like any sane person would. They ate the ones hidden in their lunches almost half of the time, and sometimes other varieties, so he tried not to focus on that too much. Baby steps, he thought. First regular meals at all, then vegetables later.

But the carrot cake.

That was just too much.

It was cake. It was covered in cream cheese frosting. Carrot cake wasn’t anything but decadent, at least not the way Eliot made it for Hardison’s birthday. It was sweet, had just the right texture from the roasted pecans, the perfect hint of cinnamon and ginger. Not a complicated dish by any means, but pretty well near perfect, in Eliot’s no goddamn need to be humble opinion.

Hardison scrunched up his nose.

“Oh,” he said, not accepting the large slice Eliot tried to give him. “Eliot, I’m hoping this is a joke and you have my Red Velvet in the fridge?”

Parker let him hand her the plate, ate a bite, spat it out, then just started eating straight frosting off all the sides.

Eliot could feel his hands twitching. He very carefully set down the knife.

“What’s wrong with my cake?” he asked. Gave them the benefit of the doubt, and tried a bite: delicious.

“I mean... it’s a carrot cake,” Hardison said delicately, as though Eliot had made some kind of mistake and he felt a little bad pointing it out to him.

“So?”

“Carrot, Eliot.”

“Cake, HARDISON.”

“I like the frosting,” Parker interjected, and Eliot glanced over to her. She’d moved on from her own plate and was just scraping fingerfuls of frosting directly off the top of the cake. His cake. His cake for Hardison’s birthday, his beautiful cake -

“Babe, we love you but you gotta know vegetables don’t have any place in a dessert, that’s just wrong. C’mon, you really didn’t make me something else? Really?”

“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” Eliot bellowed and stormed out of the apartment. He took the cake with him.

.

He brought it to Sophie and Nate, since they were in town and they weren’t insane like some people he knew.

“People you’ve, uh, chosen to dedicate the rest of your life to,” Nate pointed out around a mouthful. “I mean, you knew what they were like.”

“Oh, hush, Nate, don’t you get it? They’ve hurt Eliot’s feelings,” Sophie explained. She ate another bite, hummed approvingly, then waved her fork around to emphasize her words: “For Eliot, food is life. He wants them to lead long and healthy lives, he wants to live with them and show his love for them and keep them safe, and they just rejected that. It’s not all about the vegetables, y’know?”

Eliot was never sure whether he loved Sophie best or least of all.

“It’s definitely all about the vegetables,” he said, crossing his arms. The pair of them exchanged a look and then smiled at him warmly, like he’d just done something cute.

“Fine! Forget it,” he snarled, pushing himself roughly to his feet.

Behind him, Nate grunted the distinctive grunt of someone receiving a pointy elbow to the side, then cleared his throat.

“Okay, okay - wait! Wait, all right, I might have one idea.” When he turned back, Nate was rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “You’ve tried featuring the veggies, right, and hiding them. I’m sure you’ve lectured them both to death about why they should be eating more vegetables, but that’s not going to work on them, is it, because there’s no connection there. Ad novitam is only going to get you so far, you need the, the personal touch, a little ad misericordiam if you will.”

“I am not telling them it makes me sad when they don’t eat their greens,” Eliot said firmly.

“But it does,” Sophie said lightly. She met his glare with a soft smile, and popped another bite of cake into her mouth.

“N- Well, no, obviously, but you’ve got to think it through, Eliot. Step away from the situation. How can you imbue the food itself with emotion? Not for you -” Nate spoke a little louder as Eliot started to answer, “you’re not our mark here. What kind of food, with vegetables, is going make them feel an emotional connection?”

Eliot subsided, frowning down at his own plate. That... was actually a pretty good point.

“Hm, my favorite is still that little restaurant in Paris, with the exquisite quiche. But, I suppose hard-scrambled eggs are a bit of a guilty pleasure,” Sophie mused. “Mum was never any good at cooking.”

“You too?” Nate turned to her. “Yeah, my dad could set water on fire. I remember eating from my meal plan at college - the cafeteria, mind you - thinking how good the food was in comparison.”

The solution clicked into place. (Of course it did, they’d practically hand-fed it to him.)

Eliot stood up and grabbed his coat.

“Oh, are you leaving, Eliot?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned back to smirk at them. “I’m gonna go steal Hardison’s childhood.”

.

Once upon a time, Eliot had been a retrieval specialist. You name it, he got it back. Sometimes it was actually a they or even a them, on occasion. He’d committed arson for a pair of scissors, had gathered up a scatted set of Fabergé eggs from seven different countries and two different mafias, had traveled more than once through airport security with a live frog in his pants. The business was a strange one, but he’d been the best at it. And in the years since he left, his life hadn’t exactly gotten less weird; Leverage saw to that.

Breaking into an old woman’s home and stealing a book of recipes would be easier than taking candy from a baby. Of course, Hardison made sure to keep his Nana safe, and from everything he’d heard she could certainly take care of herself, but still it wouldn’t be any great challenge for Eliot to just break in and take what he wanted. He could do it and leave without her ever knowing he’d even been there.

He rang the doorbell, and gave her his best smile when it swung open.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Eliot. Can I come in?”

(This was Hardison’s Nana, he’d never do wrong by her like that. Anyway, it wouldn’t even work. For this he needed her direct input.)

Nana was a short, soft-looking woman. Her hair was pushed back with a purple headband, and she wore loose comfortable pants and a clearly old t-shirt covered in child-sized paint handprints. She exuded a sort of maternal air that had Eliot relaxing into the visit almost despite himself. They’d only ever spoken on the phone, and he’d admittedly felt a little awkward about his plan due to that detail alone. He knew Hardison would love for them to meet her, but it just hadn’t happened yet - honestly, Eliot had been reluctant before, worried that she would find him wanting, and he’d always been relieved that no plans had crystallized into anything solid.

Certainly, despite welcoming him in and getting them all set up on the couch with home-made lemonades, it was clear she felt suspicious. A few minutes in, she dropped the small talk altogether to pin Eliot with a steely glare.

“I’m fairly certain Alec wanted to be here when we met so he could brag some more about how hot his partners are,” she said, making Eliot flush. “And I’m just as certain nothing has happened to him, or it wouldn’t be you here to tell me, so that just leaves me confused.”

She raised an eyebrow, letting him take his time responding.

He looked down at his lap. Ran a hand through his hair, feeling... not less confident that he’d get those recipes by the end of this visit, but certainly more bashful about it.

“Uh. Yes ma’am,” he said. Quickly corrected himself, remembering her insistence over the phone, “uh, Nana. See, he doesn’t actually... know I’m here...”

“I’d guessed as much,” she said wryly.

“Right. Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. There’s something I want to do for him - well, for them - but I need your help to do it right.”

She stared him down a moment longer. Then her eyes widened, and she sat back in her seat with a little gasp, hand over her heart.

“Oh, Eliot,” she said warmly, leaning forward again to grab his hand and hold it between hers, “Oh, sweet boy, of course he’ll say yes. You should hear the way he talks about you, Alec’s been head over heels for years. I may not have met Parker personally, but I’m sure she will too. You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me on that.”

“What?” he croaked. “I... w-what?”

His voice broke in his throat. He wanted to yank away but he felt frozen in place. He didn’t understand how she’d - okay, no, he could easily see how she would draw the wrong conclusions from this situation, but they were the wrong conclusions! He’d never even considered marriage since Aimee, let alone proposing to Parker and Hardison. It wasn’t like a three-way marriage was even legal, and even if it were he would never. It was too much - not too much commitment, he’d already promised the rest of his life to them both, but still too much, somehow. He’d never dare.

“I know Alec doesn’t think too much of the institution in general,” Nana said, waving a dismissive hand, “but if you do he’ll understand that. He might not need it but he won’t say no if you ask, hon. I can promise you that.”

Eliot meant to deny the very idea. Instead what came out of his mouth was a shaky:

“...Are you sure?”

.

Hardison’s Nana - his Nana too, she insisted, even after Eliot finally managed to clear up the misunderstanding - was truly a gem of a woman. He could see so much of who Hardison had turned out to be in her kindness, her cleverness, her sense of humor. She’d broken out the picture albums for him, and had even kindly let him keep one photo of a gaptoothed little Alec in a horrible bowl cut, grinning proudly and brandishing a blue ribbon next to his science project. To Eliot’s complete lack of surprise, he’d won every year with zero competition from his peers.

(He told her that he wanted the picture to make fun of Hardison with. It was true, but she still just patted him on the shoulder and told him to keep it. Didn’t say a word when he tucked it into his wallet with unnecessary care.)

They talked for a long time. She gave him a journal to copy directly from her personal recipe book, a lovely clothbound thing spattered with grease and burnt at one edge, smelling of spices and old paper; clearly well used. She told him it was passed down from her mother, who’d put in lots of her mother’s recipes. Eliot took notes as she talked him through every one. He had a good memory but he didn’t want to miss a thing, and her recipes as written were bare bones. He could cook a delicious meal from them easily enough, but it wouldn’t have her heart in it, not like what he wanted to make.

Just talking could only do so much, and eventually they found themselves in the kitchen, demonstrating techniques and favored spice blends. It was nice, just in and of itself. Eliot rarely got to talk shop with other cooks, and it had been a long time since he’d eaten anything home-made by someone else. Nana never went to school for this stuff, but clearly her long years of experience carried their own weight, because she knew what she was talking about. 

It was late in the night by the time Eliot left her house, feeling himself flush to his ears as she kissed him on the cheek before waving until he’d driven away. And this after wrapping him up in a tight, warm hug just inside the front door.

“Alec’s done well for himself,” she said, and winked. “Now, next time I want you to bring that young lady of yours as well, you hear me? Make that a promise.”

“I will,” he said.

.

It was nearly three AM by the time he got home. Parker crashed out of the dark the second he stepped inside, clinging to him as he caught her midair.

“You made Hardison sad on his birthday,” she told him sternly, and headbutted him hard on the temple. As he winced, she pressed her nose down against his shoulder and took a long sniff. “You smell like lemons.”

“You made me sad on Hardison’s birthday,” Eliot sighed. “I mean, mad.”

“Doesn’t matter, you made him sad so I’m not sorry,” she said, and snuggled close.

Eliot carried her through the apartment, avoiding bumping into any furniture through the ease of experience, and into the bedroom. Hardison was sprawled across the mattress, fast asleep with a frown.

Setting Parker down, Eliot got undressed and climbed into the bed. He scooted behind Hardison, leaning up on an elbow to swipe a gentle thumb over the furrow between his brows. It came back, so he wiped at it again, and kissed Alec’s shoulder when he huffed a little and his face relaxed. Eliot kissed him one more time, then lay down behind him with an arm draped over his side.

Rather than going around the bed to the free space on Hardison’s other side, Parker crammed herself onto the mattress right behind Eliot, pushing him further into Hardison and determinedly spooning him.

He craned his neck up to look at her in the dark. She met his gaze solemnly and squeezed tighter, slipping a leg between his.

Eliot fell asleep warm, entangled in the two loves of his life.

.

He woke stinking hot, still entangled but a lot less happy about it. This happened every time he slept in the middle; he didn’t know why he kept letting it happen. Every single time he’d wake abruptly, heart thrumming in an instinctive alert to something wrong... Only to realize that something was just Parker drooling on his ear, or Hardison’s morning breath in his face, and (every time) both their limbs all wrapped up around him and each other in a very sweet, sweaty, and constricting mess.

The first few times he’d suffered through it, unwilling to wake them. Still basking in the fact that he was here, that he got to be a part of this. But Hardison slept like the dead, and Parker had the ability to wake up and go back to sleep pretty much indefinitely, so Eliot had no compunctions about shoving them aside anymore. He also knew that the other two were night owls who would happily sleep in to eight or even ten if left undisturbed. Eliot woke habitually at five regardless of how late he’d been up, maybe six at the latest; morning snuggles just really weren’t practical.

He wriggled free, clambering over Parker and catching her when the bed dipped and she nearly fell to the floor. Her eyes shot open, clocked him, then dropped shut as she went right back to sleep. He left them there and went to go take a shower, then wandered into the kitchen, grabbing up his new cookbook from his jacket pocket on the way.

Eliot was operating on only a couple hours of sleep; Nana didn’t exactly live next door, and he was frankly lucky he’d got out the cake relatively early in the afternoon, to be able to catch her awake at all. It wasn’t like he’d ruined Hardison’s whole birthday, just that last part they’d set aside for the three of them. They had already hung out with Nate and Sophie in the morning, and Hardison had a long phone call with Nana even before that. Parker had even given Hardison her present: a little statuette originally from a museum in Delhi if Eliot wasn’t mistaken. It was some god or something, but bore a striking resemblance to an Ewok, a detail she’d correctly guessed Hardison would love. He’d been planning on giving his present after the cake, at which point they were going to, on Hardison’s specific request, have a very normal and boring date at home. There had been a lot of jobs lately, so that must have tied into his desire for domesticity - that and ‘birthday rights’ to force them to watch all his nerd movies and lose at various video games.

They hadn’t planned anything for today either, so it wasn’t like those plans couldn’t still happen... And in fact yesterday hadn’t even been Hardison’s real birthday, just the replacement day they’d agreed to celebrate on when a con ran through the actual day. But in the cold light of day he felt a lot more stupid about taking a vegetable-related risk on Hardison’s cake, and then reacting stupidly when they didn’t like it. To be fair, he hadn’t considered it a risk at all, hadn’t even been thinking of his ongoing quest to feed them better so much as the fact that carrot cakes were good and he knew Hardison liked cream cheese frosting - but still. Sophie may have hit the nail on the head, but it was still a stupid and immature nail to let get in the way like he’d done.

He had to at least try to make it up to him.

Accordingly, the breakfast casserole Eliot put together was about as far removed from a healthy meal as any non-dessert in Nana’s cookbook. A baked blueberry French toast creation with lots of sugar, it actually was more of a dessert than anything else. It also took hours in the fridge, but that was alright; not the first time Eliot getting up so much earlier came in handy.

He took the time that it spent in the fridge to clean the apartment. He got out his gift to Hardison, swept and mopped and watered all the plants. Did some laundry, meditated a bit. Pretty much just puttered around for hours, steadily feeling worse and worse about his outburst the day before. Parker had been accepting if not forgiving, and didn’t need an explanation; Hardison might not feel the same. Eliot didn’t expect him to; he was the one clearly in the wrong. He really couldn’t regret the outcome of meeting Nana and getting her recipes, but it should have been on any other day.

He managed to time the casserole just to when the other two got up; just as Eliot pulled it from the oven, Parker wandered into the room.

“Ooh!” she said, and approached with a clear intent to stick her fingers directly into the hot food. Eliot intercepted her with a glare and a whap with his oven-mitt. She retaliated with a vicious pinch to the back of his hand and grabbed a blueberry off the top, tossing it into her mouth and wincing as she burnt herself chewing it.

“Quit that, it’s Hardison’s,” he told her.

“Hardison!” Parker yelled in what appeared to be terror, because of course she would. “I need your help right now!”

He came tumbling into the room, still only half-dressed and clumsily wielding Parker’s taser at the couch. When he saw only the two of them calmly watching him, he attempted to hide it behind his back.

“Oh hey, what’s up everyone,” he said nonchalantly. “Breakfast? Awesome. Smells like something Nana used to make.”

Parker went over and kissed him as she stole the taser out of his hand. She held it up in front of his face.

“Mine,” she scolded.

“Hey, I was ready to defend your life,” Hardison said, mock-offended. “What, you want me to run into an ambush empty-handed? Come on, baby, look who you’re talking to.”

“If you’d let Eliot teach you MMA like me then -”

“Then what, you’d use it as an excuse to choke me out again? I know what you’re after, I recognize that look in your eyes -”

“Hey, come’n eat.” Eliot put two full plates of breakfast  casserole down on the island. He braced himself, ready for Hardison to keep giving him the silent treatment or outright call him out on his behavior.

It didn’t happen.

“Morning Eliot,” he said as he came over to grab a stool. He leaned across the island; when Eliot was too surprised to meet him halfway, he rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to grab his face and pull it close enough for a quick kiss. Then he plopped down into his seat, inhaling deeply at his food. “Oh man, this smells exactly like Nana’s Blueberry Thing, I loved that as a kid. How’d you know?”

Eliot slowly sank down from his tiptoes. His stomach hurt a little from being yanked up against the edge of the island, his lips still felt the impression of Hardison’s. He... really didn’t understand.

“Uh, Nana said you liked it best,” he replied a little too woodenly. Neither of his partners seemed to notice.

“You been talkin’ to her without me?” Hardison asked, before taking a bite and moaning. It wasn’t a sex moan - Eliot knew what those sounded like - but it was damn near. “Did you turn into her? What the hell, this is it, this is the Blueberry Thing!”

Parker was at her own plate the moment Eliot said Nana; she was always fascinated by any mention of the woman, and would probably taze him for meeting her first. Right now, she was digging into her own plate, eyes closed.

Eliot cut himself a serving too and sat down to eat with them. He felt tentative, somehow, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Went to talk to her last night. Got some recipes.”

The food was good. Sweet, warm, filling; clearly a comfort meal. He dug in.

When he looked up, Parker and Hardison were both staring at him. She opened her mouth, paused, and then fell silent with a glance to Hardison. He was staring at Eliot, mouth open.

“What the hell, hon?”

Eliot clenched his jaw. He knew what he should say. He’d spent all morning prepping himself to say it.

“...You never opened my present,” he said instead.

Hardison squinted at him.

“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna without you there,” he said pointedly.

“Right, well, here,” Eliot said and shoved it his direction before going back to his food. He could feel them staring at him but didn’t lift his head, kept shoveling bite after bite into his mouth as he heard Hardison final tearing at the wrapping paper, grumbling incoherently to himself.

A moment later, the angry mumbles got louder when he opened the first box to reveal the second one.

By the time Hardison got down to the final layer, a small paper booklet six boxes in, Parker was snickering rudely and his muttering was about half swear-words. Eliot still didn’t look up, kept waiting until Hardison actually read the gift.

(He’d thought it would be funny, obviously. He’d thought it would be hilarious, to watch Hardison getting more and more irritated by the wrapping paper. And he knew the gift itself wasn’t anything much, but Eliot usually prided himself on being good at getting people things they didn’t know they wanted, or didn’t think they’d ever get. He knew it was childish and kind of stupid right from the jump, but money didn’t really mean too much to Hardison, and he was confident he’d love this.

After his behavior last night, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Immaturity took on a different tone right now.)

“‘Eliot Tickets,’“ he heard Hardison read off slowly, then - “no.”

He glanced up sharply, but it’d been a sound of delight. Hardison’s eyes were wide and he was flipping through the pages rapidly with an ever-widening grin.

“No nerd jokes for twenty-four hours, back massage, favorite food, favorite sex, get-out-of-scolding free, dessert for dinner, oh my god Comic-Con?! Get to play with your hair, get to pick your cover, computer lessons, videogames, sleeping in, what kind of goldmine is this -”

Parker leaned over his shoulder as he kept going, pointing out her favorites as they worked their way quickly through the rest of the little booklet. It wasn’t horrendously long, but long enough: one ticket for every year. Twenty-eight in all.

Twenty-nine, including the piece of paper Eliot had slipped in front of the last page at seven-thirty this morning, before carefully re-wrapping every box.

“‘One I’m sorry,’” Parker read out loud. She met Eliot’s eyes as she asked, “Are you gonna use it?”

Hardison hummed thoughtfully, then picked it up to reveal the last page.

“No, I’mma save this for just the right time,” he said, waving it in the air. He looked Eliot in the eye and smirked meaningfully. “You messed up, man, you didn’t put an expiration date on any of these.”

“Dammit,” Eliot grumbled, like he’d just realized.

(It hadn’t been a mistake.)

“Don’t need that right now anyway,” Hardison continued, tucking it back into the middle of the book. “This, on the other hand - this one I’m cashing in now.”

Eliot took the little piece of paper Hardison ripped free. He sighed.

“Really?”

“Hell yes, now get in here - and no complaining, them’s the rules you made your own self. You too, Parker, c’mere.”

Eliot stood up and rounded the island, halting with a sigh just before reaching Hardison, who stood to meet him. He ripped the coupon in half.

“All right, here goes.”

Tucking the pieces into his pocket, Eliot stepped forward into Hardison’s outstretched arms, tucking himself in close and hugging him back tightly. A moment later, he felt Parker collide with them both, one arm over his shoulders and a leg around his hips. He sighed again, this time into Hardison’s shoulder, and let himself sway when they did, a gentle rock back and forth.

He closed his eyes when they started to sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into Hardison’s shoulder after a long minute. “Shouldn’ta left.”

“That does not count, Eliot,” Hardison told him firmly, and didn’t let go. “I did not use my coupon, I still got my coupon, you aren’t getting out of anythin’ with that you hear me?”

Parker snickered behind him.

“Not getting out of anything at all,” she said, and squeezed tighter. “We’ve got you trapped.”

.

(The next time he fed them vegetables, it was a Nana recipe and Hardison ate without complaint. Parker ate because she wanted to know what it felt like to be a little Hardison, and proclaimed the experience ‘like one of my harnesses’ which was obviously a very positive review.

The next time he fed them vegetables and it wasn’t a Nana recipe, they exchanged a look and then each ate exactly half of their servings. The rest they snuck back onto Eliot’s plate one bite at a time like he wouldn’t notice. He let them get away with it and looked down at everyone’s empty plates afterward with a weird content feeling relaxing his shoulders.

The next time he saw Nana, her words on Hardison’s bragging proved embarrassingly correct. She and Parker got along like a house on fire, and if left alone too long would probably cause a house on fire, and Hardison just watched them with a giant grin like he didn’t see the danger. Nana asked Eliot if he’d considered what they talked about last time right in front of them both, proving beyond all doubt that she shared Hardison’s love of driving him goddamn crazy for fun.

The next carrot cake he made was for Sophie and Nate. He refused to call it a thank you, but she did and also asked him to make that little French quiche she’d talked about like she honestly expected “it had spinach, I think, something green anyway, it was very light, and some kind of unexpected spice too?” would be enough to go on. Nate was no help whatsoever.)

[devilmaydream]

Dante x f!Reader / Faceless f!OC

Hello little ones!  I’m back, and I’m not alone! Read our announcement here!

❤️ Title: Tonight ❤️ Pairing: Dante x f!Reader / Faceless f!OC ❤️ Summary: Dante’s lover is determined to enjoy one last night with him before they die.  ❤️ Warning: NSFW, EXPLICIT SEX!

A/N: This is probably going to be a long A/N since it’s our first fic on this page, and a new style of writing for us, so if you don’t want to read all that just skip to the next bolded line!

This is the first fic ever to be posted on the page, and I’m so damn excited and nervous about that! This one is really special to me, because it was co-written with my partner, and our new mod, Will, who got a tumblr account specifically for this very occasion!

We were experimenting with writing styles, and he ended up with this really interesting idea of a faceless oc. We gave it a shot and it ended up really cool! Click here to read Will’s little blurb about it.

If you don’t choose to read that, basically all there is to know is that even though the fic uses “she” instead of “you”, the “oc” has no name, face, features, etc, save for that it’s female, and therefore I marked it as an x reader. I am actually quite curious as to how this holds up in comparison to normal x readers, if the format is preferable, etc.

I also want to briefly thank a friend of mine, @daemongal for not only encouraging me to start writing again, but also encouraging me to post my work! Honestly, if not for her, I would’ve never done this, and may not have even started writing again, so thank you! Please go give her some love if you haven’t already! She’s a wonderful writer!  💜

And, without further ado, the fic itself! More below the cut!

Tomorrow, they would likely die, but tonight, they would eat like kings. She prepared a hand-kneaded loaf of buttered garlic bread, she cooked the roast beef in homemade gravy, letting it simmer for half the day in a large pot with carrots, baby red potatoes, and shallots. A full three course meal paired with a special wine she had helped brew nearly a century ago. She had even made her mother’s famous sugar tarts with strawberry filling, dipped in chocolate cream and sprinkles.

Tonight, they will all sit around her kitchen table, drinking away their troubles as they talk and laugh and tell stories. She will stand up and thank them all for being such good friends, and they will click their glasses together and say something silly on the count of three. Dante will look at her like she is everything, and she will look back at him and smile, knowing that if she dies tomorrow, at least she will die with the man she loves.

Tonight, when everyone says their goodbyes, she will lead him up the staircase as slowly as possible, enjoying the weight of his large hand enveloping hers with all its warmth and strength. And when they make it to the bedroom they never even got to enjoy, she will kiss him deeply and without fear, and ask him to sit down on that red suede couch Nico bought them as a house warming gift just four months ago.

Tonight, he will spread his legs and lean back, tossing his arm over the back of the couch with that telltale smirk on his lips as he watches her. She will unzip her dress slowly, letting it fall off her shoulders and down her hips to reveal that pretty set of red lingerie she bought just for him last valentines day but never got to wear.

Tonight, when he beckons her over, she will walk over to him, standing between his legs and letting him touch her wherever he pleases. When he goes to take off her stockings, she will stop him, because she remembers that dream he had when they first got together of him fucking her in those same heels with those same stockings.

Tonight, she will moan openly at the sight of his erection pushing eagerly against his slacks, thick and hard and throbbing just for her. She will tug at his hair as he nuzzles his face into the wet spot on her panties, and grind herself against his mouth as he sucks her clit through the fabric. She will whimper at the sound of him unbuckling, and watch without shame as pulls out his cock and strokes himself.

Tonight she will grind down on his hand as he pulls off her panties, and freely tremble when he twists his digits inside her. When he rolls his tongue around the sensitive little bundle of nerves above her entrance, she will come moaning his name as loudly as she had ever wanted to.

Tonight, she will undress him piece by piece, kissing every inch of his skin, burning every blemish and scar and birthmark into her mind. She will let go of all her fears and insecurities and smile as she reveals her body to his greedy hands. She will be unafraid to leave the lights on, using her hands to express what her words had always failed to.

Tonight, she will look him in the eye and tell him all the things she had been too nervous to say before. She will tell him that she loves the way he says her name when he wants her, the way he takes his time in making sure she’s ready for him, the way he moans when she comes around his fingers like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever felt.

Tonight she will tell him just how she loves the way his voice catches when she straddles him, the way he holds onto her hips and asks her if she’s okay like he needs to confirm she wants him before he lets her go any further. How she loves the way he holds onto her hips with those, strong, kind hands as she uses hers to guide his cock to her entrance, keeping her up off his lap so that she can’t take in too much of him too quickly.

Tonight she will not blush when he asks her to look at him. She will stare into his eyes just as he had always asked of her as he slowly eases her down onto his length. She will stroke his arms as they tremble in restraint, and whisper to him about how much she loves him for being so gentle, for taking the time to make it painless, for holding her still as he fucks into her inch by inch with short, slow thrusts, until she seated on his lap and gloriously full.

Tonight, she will smile at him as she lifts his hands off her hips, kissing each palm in thanks for all the years they have protected and pleasured her, before dragging them down to cup her breasts. She will hold onto his wrists as they make love and savor every moan she draws from his mouth.

Tonight, she will come when she says her name, just like she always does, back arching and pupils blowing wide with his name on her lips. She will lean down to kiss him as he strokes her back, taking over and rocking his hips up against hers as she rides out the end of her orgasm.

Tonight, when he asks her if she want to take a break, she will say no. She will not stop until he is satiated. She will press her hand over his heart, content in knowing that it’s beating just as hard as hers, that it’s beating for her, and roll her hips against his until he is thrusting up and gripping onto her sides like she is the only thing anchoring him to this world.

Tonight, when he sits up to fuck her better, she will cling to him, moaning every time he slams her down onto his cock, whispering every dirty thought that crosses her mind. She will tell him how she loves the way his mouth opens up soundlessly as she slides down onto his cock, the way he stares up at her in awe as she rides him.

Tonight, when he feels her clenching around him again, nails biting into his shoulders, she will see that part of him that he had managed to subdue for so long starting to peek out from underneath his skin, and she won’t be afraid of it. She will look him in the eye and without hesitation, ask him to let go of that restraint just once.

Tonight, he will let the devil half of him take over. He will flip her onto her back, holding her legs apart to accommodate him, carefully controlling his transformation as to not break her. She will scream for him as his changes color beneath her hands, growing rigid and hot to the touch. She will hold onto him as he gives her time to adjust to the strange new texture of his cock, gasping as it slowly expands, trying to fill every inch of her.

Tonight, she will keep him close. When he asks if she is okay, she will cup his face in her hands and stare into his eyes just like she did when he looked like the Dante she went to bed with every night. She will smile and tell him that she loves this part of him just as much as the other parts, and boldly wrap her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper.

Tonight, she will watch his every move, mesmerized by the fact that something so sinister looking could make her feel so good. Tonight, when he looks down between them, she will look, too, watching in amazement as this new, impressively thick cock slides in and out of her, the sight enough to make her come again.

Tonight, as he kisses her back to recovery, she will ask him to make love to her like the devil he is, and he will oblige with something she has never felt before-- something passionate and rough, dancing on the precipice of pain and pleasure. She will cling to him as he leans down to kiss her, elongated tongue twisting around hers.

Tonight, she will scream into his mouth as he thrusts into her, harder and faster and deeper with each encouragement, until she is soaking and he is pounding into her recklessly, the wet sounds of their joining a backdrop to the tangled moans and shouts falling from both of their mouths.

Tonight, she will be the one to ask him to look at her when she feels him start to come undone. She will hold his face in her hands and whisper how she loves him, praising him with her eyes as she clenches around him. She will moan with him as he slams into her, her legs pulled tightly around his waist to keep him close as he comes.

Tonight, she will say his name as she reaches her peak for the fourth time. She will hold her legs tight around him like a vice as they start to tremble, their mouths hanging open to exchange air as he fills her up, pumping his seed deep inside her. She will gasp when he rocks his hips against hers, pulling out less than an inch before sliding in again as though he was trying paint her insides and make sure her body would never forget this feeling.

Tonight, she won’t let him go. She will kiss him passionately and tangle her fingers in his hair, whimpers sweetly as he throbs inside her at the attention. She will loop her legs around his calves and roll on top of him before he can turn back, ensuring that his cock will stay right where she wanted it -- buried inside her-- as she snuggles up atop his chest.

Tonight, she will press her heart to his, breathing slow and deep against his ear until he relaxes. She will smile as the rough heat beneath her hands returns to smooth skin, peppering his shoulder and neck with kisses. When she offers to clean them up and he asks her to stay, she will oblige, letting his arms wrap around her waist, keeping their hips together even as he starts to soften inside her, and his release starts to drip out from where they were joined.

Tonight, she will stay right here, listening to his breathing, feeling his heart beat, chest rising and falling beneath hers. Tonight, when he says that he loves her, she will say it back fearlessly, and hold tightly onto him as they drift off together.

Tomorrow, they will likely die, but tonight, all that exists is the two of them, and nothing else in the world matters.

[nialledfromfics]

- chapter six -

“There’s a million reasons why this shouldn’t work...but there’s only one reason why it should...”

21 weeks

“Your baby now weighs about three-quarters of a pound and is approximately 10 1/2 inches long – about the length of a carrot. You may soon feel like she's practicing martial arts as her initial fluttering movements turn into full-fledged kicks and nudges.”

That night changed everything. And I don’t mean that in a disregarding or flippant way, but it really did. Niall woke up really early the next morning, wiping the drool from his mouth and apologizing over and over for falling asleep on me. I just laughed and repeatedly told him it was fine, in my head thinking how good it actually felt to have him there, but God knows, I didn’t want him knowing that. He left a little while later and texted me as soon as he got home, telling me again how sorry he was. I rolled my eyes at him and told him it really was no big deal.

And maybe it was no big deal, but it was something that brought us closer. It was something that immediately flipped a switch in us to where we became something more than two people having a baby together; we became friends. Real friends. Just opening up to him in the way that I did, feeling him inadvertently be open with me by falling asleep on me and wanting to feel the baby, it all just moulded and clicked together. Something finally fell in place for us and I knew that this level of friendship was right where we needed to be for the sake of our child.

“So everyone knows now, huh?”

I let out a chuckle at Nora’s question as I sat in the middle of my bed, my one leg bent up while I attempted to paint my toenails. The phone was on speaker, resting on the top of my bunched up sheets next to me and I let out a discomforted hum as I situated myself better to reach my pinky toe. “I mean, I guess,” I spoke out, shrugging my shoulder as if she could see me, “we never made an official announcement, Niall wasn’t really keen on the idea quite yet, but…yeah, I guess the news is out there!” I gave her another chuckle. “I’m surprised it took this long…”

“Are people freaking out?” she asked as I dipped the brush back into the nail varnish.

“Sorta,” I said, biting my lip in concentration, “I mean, I’m not super into social media and stuff, which I guess is good, but the tabloids are going crazy. They don't really know it's actually me though, I mean my picture hasn't been, like, in the news or anything but Niall said to just ignore everything, that eventually...the rumors will all die down.”

She gave me a soft laugh. “What are people saying?”

I pushed out a huff. “Well, I've tried not to look - I know that's never a good thing - but yeah, most of the comments are…okay. His fans aren't really...taking it the best, which I guess is to be expected. I mean it's not like, Niall and I were a couple…it fucking came out of nowhere.”

“Yeah, but it's no ones business really, especially theirs…”

My hand dropped to the bed for a moment as I pinched my mouth to the side. “I just thank God right now that no one knows who I am,” I mumbled with a short chuckle.

A small giggle spilled out from the other line. “Yeah, that's good at least. It was your mum, right? That spilled it?”

“Yeah, I think so. But by some crazy grace of God, she never gave them my name…just...told them Niall had impregnated someone,” I finished with a breathy laugh.

“Unreal.”

“I know.”

I heard the phone shuffle slightly from the other end as Nora moved about. “So how did Niall take it? Like...finding out about her and stuff?”

“Really good actually,” I admitted, leaning back slightly so I could switch feet. “You were right, Nora, he wasn’t...all weirded out or judgmental about it, I probably should’ve told him sooner…”

“Ha!” she screeched out, making me smile, “Never question me again!”

“Oh stop it,” I teased with a chuckle, “but seriously, we’re...in a really good place right now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah...I mean, we’re actually friends,” I told her as I tipped my head to the side and reached over my knee to get the last of my toes. “Like, it’s weird even saying that ‘cause we’re literally having a baby together, but...yeah, we’re really good friends. We talk and text all the time, we hung out on Thursday after he got home from the studio. He cooked me dinner. It was nice.”

She let out a small gasp. “Oh so...like a date?”

“No, not a date,” I abruptly corrected her, “just...friends hanging out. I’m supposed to go over to his later tonight too...just to hang out.”

“Okay, Laine…”

“Nora, I’m serious!” I scolded, twisting the brush back into the nail varnish to close it up. “I don’t want anything like that with him, okay, I can’t…handle dealing with any of that right now, it’s just too much.”

“But having a baby with him isn’t?”

Shaking my head, I entertained her with a giggle. “You know what I mean–”

“Hmm,” she hummed out, a slight hint of doubt in her tone, “but you do want him, right?”

“ ‘Want’ him?”

“Yeah,” she continued, “wanna fuck his brains out...I mean, you already have...”

I rolled my eyes, pushing out a loud huff as I wiggled my toes to help them dry. “Nora, I can barely even see my hootie hoo enough to shave it in preparation for sex, what makes you think I’m even thinking about fucking him…”

She burst out a laugh. “Because you want to…”

“I don’t.”

“Right…”

“I’m serious!”

“So, you’re saying that if you went over there tonight and he...came on to you or whatever, you wouldn’t fuck him?” she asked me honestly.

“No…”

“You’d never sleep with him again?” she questioned again, my eyes rolling so far back it almost made me dizzy.

I let out a soft sigh, flopping my body down onto the bed as I grabbed my phone and held it up in front of my face. “I mean...I don’t know, I can never really say never, but I’m not even thinking about that, okay? I’m just...just trying to get through this damn pregnancy, I don’t even have time to think about going down that road with him.”

“But what if he likes you?”

“He doesn’t,” I insisted, “We’re friends.”

“But what if he does…”

I shook my head, running my palm over my forehead in frustration. “Well, I don’t like him like that so…”

She snorted at my comment. “Yes you do.”

“Why do you think that? Because I’m having his baby?” I shot back.

“No,” she stated, contention in her voice, “Because I know you...and because it’s Niall fucking Horan!”

I groaned at her. “Nora, I’m hanging up now!”

“Laine, wait! What if-...what if he wants to fuck you!”

“Hanging up!”

“What if he wants to eat you out all night!”

I rolled my eyes. “Bye, Nora!”

“Oh my God, what if he wants to marry yo–”

I quickly hung up the call before she could finish, my head shaking in a dry chuckle at her childish behavior. Ridiculous, I thought, tossing my phone down on the bed and grabbing my remote to switch the channel on my TV. No sooner had I decided on a rerun of one of my favorite shows, did I hear my phone start ringing once again.

Picking it back up, I let out a displeased groan thinking it was Nora trying to give me shit again, but a frown pulled over my lips and my heart quickly dropped to the pit of my stomach as I saw who it really was.

Steven.

*

I did end up going over to Niall’s place later that night to hang out, both of us making a right mess of the kitchen as we tried our hand at cooking a meal together. It didn’t pan out so well, not enough space for the both of us in there and we ended up lounging on the couch afterwards, our bellies full and me exhausted from being on my feet for more than a thirty minute stretch. The telly was on, Niall mindlessly flipping it to some random channel right as we sat down before he kindly offered to give me a foot massage after he had heard me complain. That truly wasn’t my intention, but not being one to skip an opportunity like that, I happily obliged and kicked off my shoes before swinging my feet up onto his awaiting lap.

We were both facing each other, my legs laying between his spread ones as our backs rested comfortably up against the sides of the couch. He had his one socked foot planted flat to the floor and the other squished between me and the couch cushion as my feet were nicely propped up by his tummy. I watched as he pulled off my socks one by one and cheekily remarked on my newly painted toenails, the comment making me smile as his magical fingers readily went to work.

My eyes fluttered in a contented sigh as I willingly gave into the soothing feeling, my body sinking a bit further into his cushy sofa before a thought quickly flashed through my head. “Oh my God,” I spit out, causing Niall’s eyes to fly up from my feet to my face. “You’ll never guess who called me today…”

A line of wrinkles spread over his forehead as he peered at me, his fingers still gently kneading. “Who?”

“My ex.”

Niall let out a snort, cocking his head back as his half lidded eyes slid over my face. “What’s his name again...Dickhead?”

My shoulders rounded in a giggle. “No, it’s Steven.”

Niall shook his head as he peered back down at my one foot. “Ah, close enough.” I rolled my eyes as my head lagged back to rest on the arm of the couch. “So, what’d dickhead want?”

“That he missed me and wanted to get back together.”

His eyes quickly shot to mine, his brows furrowing deep. “To get back together with ya?” he repeated, his usually gruff voice going high. I slowly nodded my head, my lips rolling into my mouth. “What, um...what’d you say?”

Hissing lightly through clenched teeth, I scrunched up my face as my one shoulder raised to my cheek. “Um...kinda told him I was having another man’s baby…”

A highly amused chuckle huffed out from Niall’s chest. “No shit, you told him that?”

Giggling in return, I darted my eyes with his. “Yeah, and I laughed it off but…”

“What’d he say?”

I pulled in a sharp breath, my eyes fluttering as Niall’s thumb hit a tender spot on the bottom of my foot. “He told me I was a slut and it was a good thing he broke up with me,” I told Niall, shrugging my shoulders. “Which, to be honest, neither of those things surprised me coming out of his mouth.”

Niall rolled his eyes in a huff. “He truly is a dickhead.”

“Yeah, he is,” I giggled, folding my hands in my lap.

He fell quiet for a second, his eyes plastered down at his important task of massaging my foot before I heard him draw in a heavy breath. “Do you think...if ya weren’t pregnant, you’d...get back together with him?”

I immediately furrowed my brows, peering over at Niall through the corners of my eyes. “Hell no,” I stated with a shake of my head as he slowly slid his stare up to mine, “I spent the last two years trying to get out of that mess of a relationship, no way would I put myself through that again.”

Niall let out a snort. “It is kinda random that he rang ya though, innit?”

My shoulders raised in another half shrug as I peeked down at my outstretched legs. “He was probably just horny or something,” I said, with a roll of my eyes, “and I can totally relate to that…”

“You’re horny?” he spit out almost like he didn’t believe me, his hands slowing their movements as he followed up his question with a coy little chuckle.

Tipping my head to the side, I pursed my lips at his obvious inane comment. “Niall, I have like five hundred and sixty two thousand extra hormones racing through my body right now, I’m literally always horny,” I joked. “Besides...it’s been like forever since I’ve had sex.”

His eyes narrowed at me as he switched feet. “When’s the last time ya had sex?”

I pulled in a short breath at his candid question, his voice soft, almost timid like, but even so I felt strangely...okay with our rather intimate conversation. Licking across my lips, I raised my brows at him with a pressed smile, dragging my wide stare down to settle on the round of my belly. “Wait...I’m the last person you had sex with?”

His tone came out slightly surprised as his fingers stalled on the soles of my feet. “I told you that, Niall!” I reminded him with a laugh, “And I wasn’t gonna fuck some random person after I found out I was pregnant...though the thought did cross my mind.”

He tipped his head back in a rumbled laugh, my legs shaking by the reverberation that was rolling through his lean body. I giggled slightly under my breath from the feeling. “What about you?” I asked him, watching his hands get back to work, “When’s the last time you fucked someone?”

“Truthfully?” I gave him a nod, my eyes narrowing a bit in curiosity. “The night ya told me you were pregnant…”

My mouth dropped open, my stare darting with his as he scrunched up his face. “You fucked someone the night I told you I was pregnant with your kid?!”

“It wasn’t my finest moment!” he fought back with a raspy chuckle, “I was freakin’ the fuck out, Laine!”

“God, Niall!” I rolled my head back in a laugh, “I even called you that night!”

“Eh, she didn’t last long anyway…”

Biting at my lip, I tugged down at my top as it had begun to ride up over my belly from all my laughter. “Well...I’m proper jealous…”

He raised his brows. “Of me...or her?”

I gave him a playfully cautious glare, eliciting another boisterous laugh. “Meh, don’t be, it fuckin’ sucked.” Letting out a snort, my hand shot up to cover my mouth. “To be fair, you were the last good lay I had,” he admitted with a blown out breath as he glanced up at me.

“Yeah, well...we were both piss drunk…”

“Maybe,” he said, nonchalantly shrugging up his one shoulder, “but I remember every fuckin’ bit of it.”

Quietly settling my eyes on his, I watched a lopsided smirk curl at his top lip. “It was good, wasn’t it?” I softly asked him, tucking my bottom lip in my mouth.

Niall gingerly nodded his head in response, his tongue swiping across his lips to wet them as a pleasant hush eased around us. He continued his truly indescribable work on my feet (guitar players; holy shit), the diligence he was showing very much appreciated and I had to fight off the need to lay my head back and fall asleep right then and there. It felt good. Entirely too good. I caught him glancing his eyes up to mine a few times before I tipped my head to the side and took in a small breath. “Niall...can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

My lips pinched over to the side as I chewed on the inside of my cheek, the pads of my fingers fiddling with the ends of my nails to tide over my nerves. “We talk almost every night...text and stuff...and you just said you...haven’t had sex with anyone in awhile–”

“Yeah?”

“....why?”

His brows knit as he pondered his light blue stare over my face, innocently taking in my soft features as his hands came to a rest at my ankle. “What do ya mean?”

I let out a sigh, reaching up to tuck a piece of unruly hair behind my ear as I slowly peered down into my lap. “It’s just...it’s been months and I know how guys are, I guess, and I know that if I was you...I’d be out having fun, ya know? I don’t know, I just mean...like, if I wasn’t pregnant…” I paused, shooting my stare to his as I pushed out a huff mid thought, “ ‘Cause let’s be honest, who wants to fuck a pregnant girl…”

Niall gave me a chuckle, cocking his head back in a smirk. “Can’t speak for anyone else, but I’d fuck ya…”

Bowing my head in a bashful giggle, I nervously slipped my fingertips over my forehead. “You already have…”

“Even more reason I’d fuck ya again.”

“Please,” I retorted with an incredulous eye roll before looking back up at him, “I’m serious though, like...why aren’t you out there living your life?”

His inquisitive stare narrowed at me, his eyes dancing across my face as if he didn’t understand what I was saying to him. “I am,” he declared with a furrowed brow, shaking his head, “Laine, this-...this is my life now. You...and the baby.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go out and have fun!” I implied, holding out a hand, “I mean honestly, look at you! You’re sitting at home on a Saturday night rubbing my feet…”

“But this is fun!” he counteracted.

I huffed out a sarcastic snort. “Rubbing my feet is fun?”

“Sure,” he mentioned with a shrug.

“Okay, anyway,” I said with a dramatic roll of my eyes, “I meant...like going out, ya know, hooking up with girls...whatever, getting that last..hoorah in before the baby comes.”

“Last hoorah?” he repeated with a low snicker.

I shook my head. “You know what I mean…”

He tilted his head down in another low laugh, his fingers finally going back to work on my foot. “Well, I would but….look how it turned out the last time I did that…”

My eyes went big. “You got that other girl pregnant too? Damn Niall...got some super sperm there, huh?”

He rolled his stare to mine from the top corners. “I meant you, dummy…”

Lagging my head back in a laugh, I playfully pushed against his tummy with the ball of my foot. “Well, touche then,” I told him, biting at my lip. “I envy you though, ya know that?”

“What?” he laughed out, “Why?”

“Because! After all this...you’re still gonna be you,” I said, my voice slipping into a muted whisper. “You’re gonna go off and do your music and tour the world and...nothing's gonna change–”

“That’s not true–”

“And I feel like the only thing I’m gonna do is...have a baby,” I continued, floating my eyes over his. “That I’m gonna...lose myself in becoming someone’s mum. Like...that’s all I’ll ever be…”

Niall let out a small sigh at my honest confession, his big palms sliding down each of my feet that were rested on his lap and spreading over the tops of my ankles. “I don’t think that’s true, Laine, not for one second,” he told me, his voice stern but calm, “Of course you’re gonna be someone’s mum, but you’re more than that. I can’t say I know everythin’ about you yet, but from what I do know, you’re clever and kind, you got a fuckin’ wit to ya that people would kill for. You’re sweet and passionate. You’re crazy strong. You’ve been through so much and look how fuckin’ amazin’ you are!” I smiled at his kindhearted words as he rolled his lips into his mouth and shook his head, “No one else I’d rather be my baby mumma.”

I burst out a laugh, my head tossing back to the edge of the couch. “You’re so dumb,” I choked out between giggles, my hands coming up to cup over my face.

“And don’t think me life isn’t gonna change either!” he shot back as I settled myself with a sigh, “ ‘Cause it will…I know it will. I’m not ready, but, it’s for the better, ya know?”

I scraped my teeth along my bottom lip. “Yeah, I know.”

Niall let out an agreeing hum, his worn hands kneading the smooth skin of my ankles before he slid my feet off his lap. “Here…rub my feet,” he demanded, moving his own legs over mine and swinging his feet onto the tops of my thighs.

I pushed out a huff from the impact, my eyes going wide as I stared down at his big socked feet that were now resting in my lap. “Ew, I’m not rubbing your feet, Niall…”

His brows furrowed as he leaned back and threw his arms up behind his head. “What?” he squawked out with a crinkled browline. “Listen here, pet, I’ve been rubbin’ yours for the last twenty minutes!”

“I’m pregnant!” I shot back with a giggle.

“You can’t use that excuse every time ya want somethin’, Jesus Christ…”

I rolled my eyes at him, pursing my lips as I grumbled out under my breath. “Ugh, fine,” I mumbled, slapping my hands to his feet to pull them closer to me. “Give me your stinky feet then…”

My face scrunched up in detest as I pushed the tips of my fingers around his feet, deep laughs etching up from Niall’s throat as he watched me. I whimpered as I poked, whined as I pinched and even took a moment to run my fingernails right along the sole of his foot. “Aye!” he yelped from the ticklish sensation, a giggle slipping past my lips as he roughly yanked his foot back.

Letting out a sudden gasp, my hand pushed to the front of my tummy as I swiftly leaned my body up, shooting my stare down upon feeling a tiny little push coming from the inside. “Oh my God,” I whispered, Niall’s blue eyes going huge as he tugged both of his feet further away from me.

“Oh fuck...did I-...did I hurt ya?” he screeched out as I looked back up at him.

I let a smile spread over my parted lips and slowly shook my head. “No,” I said to him, my mouth still hanging open, “I think...I think the baby just kicked me…”

Darting my stare over the shocked look on his face, he peeked down at my swollen belly before glancing back up at me. “Holy shit...seriously?” he breathed out, his pink lips parting in surprise. Holding my hand to my tummy, I shakily nodded my head at him just as I felt another tiny kick push against my palm.

“Oh my God, Niall…c’mere,” I told him, motioning him over to me with my other hand, “Come feel this…”

Scrambling up to his knees on the couch, he parked himself on his haunches between my spread legs, both of us staring down at my protruding belly as he reached out to lay his hand right where mine was. Looking up at his face as he peered down in awe, I rested my hand on top of his. “I- I don’t feel nothin’,” he whispered lightly, my eyes fluttering as I stared up at him.

I pushed down a little on his hand to see if that would cause the baby to react again. “You gotta wait,” I calmly pointed out, knowing he was probably about to pee his pants with excitement. As if on cue, the baby did a hard little kick right against Niall’s big palm.

Slowly raising his face to meet my stare, I watched his blue eyes go wide in amazement. The look on his face was so pretty, so pure. “Holy shit, that’s fuckin’ incredible!” he stammered out, shaking his head as we both felt another tiny bump push through. “It did it again!”

Nodding my head, I bit at my bottom lip as a huge smile pulled at my lips. I couldn’t contain it, the happiness I felt. Seeing Niall so excited, him being able to feel his baby kick within me, getting to experience that moment with him...it was exhilarating and unbelievable. It was everything I had hoped it would be. “It’s crazy, huh?” I softly breathed out to him, his eyes darkening as they flicked with mine, his large hand remaining stuck to my tummy. “That’s our baby in there…”

I watched as his lips slowly began to fall together, his stare sliding down the slope of my nose to sit at my mouth and I expanded my chest in attempt to inhale but was cut short by the eager and sudden press of Niall’s soft pink lips to mine. I gasped lightly against his mouth, my eyes fluttering closed as the warmth of his breath readily filled my lungs.

My mouth parted gently as his free hand came up to cup around my jaw, his fingers tangling into the side of my hair and he pushed his chin up, urging me deeper into the kiss. A low whimper slid off my tongue as his swept through my mouth, and I leaned into him, the sweet desperation of the moment pulling me under some sort of spell that I was incapable of releasing myself from.

His taste, his heat, the way he smelled, it was as if the room had caved in and entrapped me right here in this exact spot with him. I was utterly entranced by him; remembering everything that I had felt that night, every sensation shooting back to me and trickling over my skin, making me fall right into a place that I didn’t want to be. My fingers curled over his as it laid across my belly and for a split second, I lost myself in his kiss. I let myself be lost, I let myself be transfixed by his neediness and his all-consuming warmth, by the way his fingers were twisting so tight into my hair to keep my lips locked with his...

My eyes flew open and I quickly pushed my hands to his chest, moving my head away from his and causing a loud smack of our lips to release our kiss. My mouth parted as I gasped for air, his stare wide and dragging over my face as if he was silently trying to read my reaction. “I-...” was all he got out before I quickly reached up and wiped over my spit coated lips with my fingertips, scrambling my legs out from around his to sit at the edge of the couch.

Scooting himself back, he didn’t say anything else, I wasn’t even certain if he knew what to say, but I just shook my head and hoisted myself up from the sofa. “I’m...I’m gonna go home,” I brokenly muttered, bending down to grab my shoes off his floor before whizzing past him and walking towards his front door.

I didn’t even turn around to look at him, I didn’t even say goodbye. I left his house and drove home without another word spoken to him.