#and drag him off to i dunno a spa day

[leupagus]

OK good news

I decided to try the Magnus Archives again after falling off (I became aware of it just as the last season was airing and I thought "oh I should wait until it's finished" and then forgot all about it) and it is just as great as people say.

Bad news, I've looked for fic and the algorithm is failing me. So if you guys have any recs? I mainly want stuff about how people care for/about Jon the hateful murderous gargoyle weirdo and how he cares for them in turn. It obviously can have horror but, and I know this is a big ask, No Bummers please.

[reluctant-mandalore]

A Soothing Touch (Boba Fett x gn!Reader)

Even the great and legendary bounty hunter Boba Fett needs a break. So of course you and him end up going to a spa to relax in the hot springs there alone together. Soon finding yourself sharing some soft and affectionate moments with the usually closed off bounty hunter. 

Warnings: fluff, kissing, flirting, touching (nothing to bold thou), lots of kissing, naked folk, cuddling, hot spring/spa, established relationship, not beta read. 

Word Count: 2542

Pairing: Boba Fett x gn!Reader

a/n: So I saw this art by @space-girl-and-droids-art​ and got inspired to write a fic about cuddling with Boba at the spa. We need more soft boba shbdfbsdfs Edit: Originally planned on doing smut for part 2, but I dunno if I am now. ;-; Maybe I will, maybe I wont. For now this is it. 

The spa that you two had gone to that day had been beautiful. Lovely for sure, but overly expensive as well. Though that hadn’t seemed to bother the famed bounty hunter when he had picked it out among the many which had been suggested to him.

Now standing by the edge of the private hot spring you couldn’t help but gaze at the said man currently relaxing within its warm and calming waters. His armor had been removed long before you had come to join him. His body leaning against the stony rim of the pool, as his eyes had remained firmly closed even when you had first approached.

Boba had almost looked peaceful that way. The steam in the air like a fine cloak which just barely covered his naked self from your wandering eyes. While the water he had soaked in rippled around him with each slight movement. You couldn’t help but watch as a bead of sweat had dripped down from his neck to his shoulder blade. The way that his scars traced his skin making your fingers twitch with the need to caress and soothe them.

He was beautiful like this. Sprawled out and bare for anyone to see. Though only you would be the one to have the pleasure of getting to look at him in such a way. He didn’t let his guard down around just anyone after all.

You were the exception.

“Well are you going to come join me?” The sound of his low voice had dragged you out of the trance you had found yourself in. His eyes now opened, as he stared at you with a hint of amusement hidden within his darkened depths. “Or are you just going to keep standing there gawking at me?”

You had felt your heart flutter at his words, as a shy warmth had quickly formed at the weight of them. “I… I’m coming in! Just need a moment, that's all.”

Boba had merely let out an amused hum at your stuttered reply. His body shifting a bit as he waited and watched for you to come join him within the water. There hadn’t been much emotion to his face as he did this. There never really was if you had thought long and hard about it. He had always been more of a man of action then anything else. Though his eyes had never seemed to hide what he had been feeling from you, and right now his eyes had held nothing but longing. A sight that had only made the warm feeling blossoming within yourself grow the more you had taken notice of it.

Removing the robe you had worn that day had seemed to be more difficult in your flushed state. As you had fumbled with the belt and nearly tripped into the water when placing it off to the side. Your body had moved uneasily as you did this. As you weren’t sure if you should put on a show of undressing for him or not. Though you found yourself wondering if it would be better to just focus on not falling in and not hurting yourself while walking along the slippery edge. Making a fool of yourself was probably the worst thing you could do in this type of situation.

Boba didn’t seem to mind in the slightest though. He never really seemed too. It was just how he was with you. Calm and patient; stern but kind; ruthless and yet honorable—that was the Boba Fett you had known well. It had also been the one that you had fallen so deeply in love with too.

Though regardless of how awkward you may have been with undressing, the man’s eyes could be felt on you the entire time. His heated gaze roaming over your naked form as if you were the most finest of meals. To him you were of course. You were his beautiful cyar’ika—a precious gem among the dunes so to speak—and someone he had planned to hold onto for as long as you would let him.

Settling into the water you couldn’t help but let out a pleased sound. The warmth of the spring instantly managing to relax your muscles and bring a calming cloud to your thoughts. You had stolen a quick glance to the bounty hunter then. Your breath nearly catching as your gaze had locked with his own. There had been a feeling of desire and yearning held within his eyes now. The sight of which had made you burn over with a brief and numbing passion. All while causing your own heart to thunder loudly within your chest. Although you had broken the contact quickly. Finding yourself overcome with your nerves well held under his breathtaking eyes.

Boba had always seemed to have that effect on you. It had been overbearing, but also comforting at times. Another reassurance that reminded you of how much he truly did want to keep you by his side. Even when separated by the armor or across the galaxy—he always had a way of making you feel so wanted by him.

So cherished and so loved.

“Always so shy mesh’la.” He had commented with a chuckle. The words from him making you glance back at him with a pout. Though as always he had never seemed to crumble under your soft gaze. If anything he had only felt more spurred on by the sweetness it had held. “You know I don’t bite.”

“We both know that’s not true.” You had shot back as you narrowed your gaze at him. Though he had only smirked when you had, and you in turn had sunk farther into the water from his prying eyes. The sight of which had instantly darkened his expression.

“Fine... I only bite if you want me too then.” He had said in a rather gentle, and yet still rough, voice. The amusement it had held not having been lost on you in the slightest. A soft look soon crossing his features—one which you were quickly learning was only reserved for your eyes alone—though it had disappeared before you could really focus in on it. “Come here cyare, let me hold you.”

The brief thought of denying him had crossed your mind. It could be fun to tease and taunt the man. Pushing and winding him till he would be bursting at the seams. Only to allow for a heated look to fill his gaze, as he took control to remind you of just who he was, and what he was capable of doing. The mess he could make of you within seconds was quickly becoming another talent of his lately it had seemed. And if you allowed him the pleasure of entertaining you on this day you would be sure to meet that side of him again.

Though the sight of his outstretched arms had stopped that thought process in you instantly. He looked so inviting like that—so safe and warm—as if there were nowhere better than being within his hold. The sudden need to feel yourself cradled in his embrace stomping out any teasing remarks that you could have thrown right back at him. As you had soon made your way over to where he had still relaxed on the other side of the spring.

Boba had pulled you flushed against his chest the minute you were within arms length. A pleased sound leaving him, as your naked body had rested against his own. His one arm settling around you and gripping onto you almost possessively. The feeling of his fingers firmly digging into your skin having left your heart fluttering for all that it was worth.

“My sweet cyare.” He had nuzzled his nose against you then, as the sweet praise had left him in a hushed and rugged sounding voice. His lips ghosting over your forehead to place a kiss against the skin there soon after. The feeling of it sending another shot of warmth to settle within your core. “Always so good for me. Aren’t you?”

An agreeable hum had left you at his words. Now finding yourself laying your head against his shoulder, as you had allowed your eyes to drift close. He himself had leaned back against the edge of the pool just as he had done so earlier. Though this time he had made sure to keep you closely tucked against him. The gentle rise of his chest, and calming presence only helping to soothe you farther into the warm water.

The two of you had stayed like that together for a long time. Allowing for your sores and aches to be eased away by the hot spring. As you both had stayed cuddled and relaxed against each other. At one point you had found your eyes cracking open again to glance at the man still holding you. A small smile playing on your lips as you saw how peaceful he had once again seemed while snuggled so closely with you.

Boba had his eyes shut again, and he had almost seemed to be on the verge of sleeping. If you had wanted to disturb him from his blissful relaxation you would have teased him. A comment about his aging self on the tip of your tongue, though you had decided to keep to yourself.

Well for this point in time at least.

Instead you had chosen to let him continue to enjoy himself. He did need a break after all. That was the whole reason you both had come here. Your one hand soon moving to draw lazily circles onto his bare chest. Finding yourself overjoyed with the pleased sigh he had allowed himself to make at the feeling of it.

Drawing shapes had gotten boring quickly though, and even sooner you had begun to allow your fingers to trace along the scars littered across his skin. It always amazed and saddened you with how many he had. Years of working as a bounty hunter—combined with the horrors of the sarlacc pit—had clearly done a number on him. Though he rarely spoke to you of such things. He hated pity, and hated speaking of his pain even more. Always choosing to keep most of that stuff to himself. He was never one to open his heart easily after all. Although sometimes you found yourself wishing that he would. Healing was easier together then apart you had thought so at least. Though the hunter himself seemed to have no interest in such a thing.  

The man in question had shivered more under your gentle caresses. A shuddered breath leaving him, as your fingers ran slowly along a particular scar lower on his chest. One that you had known to be quite sensitive.

His eyes had opened up after that one. Now focused on watching you, as you explored his chest with your hands. While his own tight grip still on you had only tightened. He didn’t make any move to stop you though, as for once he had just chosen to watch and lean more into your soothing hands. Another deep and pleased sigh having left him as he did.

Rarely did Boba ever like to just let himself relax like this under your gentle touch. He liked to be the one in control most times. His need to direct how things went—and fear of seeming vulnerable—usually managing to crawl itself to the surface. Today had seemed different though. Whether it be due to the calming water or your sweet caresses—the usually closed off man had allowed himself to melt into you completely. Allowing himself to open up himself—and his heart—as you had spoiled him with your soft affections.

Soon you had even begun to press light kisses along his exposed chest. A small hum leaving you at the sound of a breathy groan he had made, as you had pressed your lips to another partially sensitive spot along his collar bone. Although he still hadn’t said a word when you had pampered him in this way. Instead he had simply watched you through a lidded gaze. Refusing to miss seeing a second of everything that you did.

Boba would eventually bring an end to your trails of kisses and touches though. A displeased sound leaving you at the feeling of his other hand cupping your cheek to stop you. Though your frown had left you quickly, as soon he had brought you in for a kiss that had stolen your breath away. A small sound leaving you, as your lips had molded together with his like they were perfectly made for one another.

It had started off gentle, but like with all things with the bounty hunter, it had quickly become rough. Passionate and heated—it had almost felt as if he had been trying to devour you whole. The grip he held on your cheek and waist only becoming stronger, as he had pulled you in to deepen the kiss in between quick breaths. His lips never truly leaving yours any longer than they needed. All while you had become overwhelmed with an intense feeling of desire pooling within you again. Practically crumbling into his hold and melting into it within minutes of the kiss having started.

The need to breathe properly would eventually take him from you completely though, and soon he had leaned back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. His warm breath fanning against your equally warm cheeks, as he had kept the contact with you for another long moment. The water surrounding you both reminding you of just how warm and humid the whole place had become. His eyes now having held a gleam to them that you hadn’t seen too often. The meaning held behind their searching gaze not lost on you in the slightest, as you had found yourself sucked into their radiant depths. The love and affection that they had held only making your heart soar more at its sweetness.

This man would truly be the death of you it seemed.

“Mesh’la…” His voice had trailed off as he spoke, though he had kept his forehead pressed against your own when had. Quickly finding that he had become at a loss for words—unsure of what to say or how to say it—a rare occurrence for a man who always seemed so confident in himself. “Mesh’la I…”

“I know Boba.” You had replied just as softly in reassurance. Soothing away some of his worry while smiling brightly at him. Your one hand having moved to cup over the hand which he had still kept cradling your cheek. “I know. Me too.”

It was true. You had known it from the first time he had taken you into your arms, and from the first time you had shared a kiss with the man. Whether he could find the ability to voice it or not you had always known. Even when sitting within the warm waters of an overly expensive spa—pressed together and whispering few sweet words in between your kisses—you had known. You always did after all.

You always knew that Boba Fett had loved you like no other. 

[qjhughes]

The Best Kind Of Night

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: After a long day filled with meetings and overbearing reminders of deadlines, Harry’s in need of a little time with his girl.

Warning(s): Stressed out H, a spa night, mentions of nudity (nothing explicit or sexual), and innuendo to some sexy time (but nothing to dramatic), fluff, not edited (i JUST had people beta read a piece for me and I don’t wanna bother them lmao)

A/N: anon requested: painting harry’s nails after he had a long day, followed by a bath together and cuddling. I’m currently working on a longer piece but I got this request and just had to write it (partially because of how cute it is and partially because i want to procrastinate for longer)!!!!! I have like, 15 other requests that are still in the works, so if you see me write someone else’s request and not yours, don’t worry, I’m getting to it!! also!!!! the gif has like, nothing to do with the piece i just really like it!!

Masterlist | Taglist | Request - Guidelines | Come Talk To Me!!

Reblogs help a lot and are greatly appreciated!!

*

When he was sixteen, he never thought that being a singer could be this hard. In his head it was simple: write songs, record the songs, go on tour. And when he was in a band, it still kind of seemed like that, especially because he had other boys to help him do everything. 

But now he realizes that it’s a lot harder than he thought at sixteen, and sometimes he feels like it’s near impossible to do it on his own. 

Every single day it’s “Harry, I need you to approve this” or “Harry, you need to redo this” or “Harry, there’s something that requires your immediate attention.” Sometimes it almost feels like it’s too much. There’s only so much he can handle before his brain feels on the verge of bursting at the seams with all the things that he has to do. 

On days like today, where it was meeting after meeting, he’s drained. At the end of the day all he wants to do is go home and spend time with the love of his life. He wants to ask about her day and have her ramble on for as long as she wants about all the little things that made her day enjoyable.

That’s what he’s looking forward to when Jeff stops him and tells him that there’s yet another emergency meeting that Harry has to attend. He barely stops himself from audibly groaning about the prospect of having to sit through another meeting when he could be at home with his girl. The last thing that he wants right now is to go sit at a table with a bunch of people he sees once a week and do absolutely nothing but sign a paper or two. But he’s not really in the mood to push it off and then have Jeff mad at him, so he follows him to the conference room and takes his seat.

*

She can tell that he’s had a long day the moment that he walks through the door without his usual pep. Normally, there’s a smile on his face, albeit a tired one, and a twinkle in his eyes. Tonight, though, none of that’s there. It’s just a blank face, almost like he’s not entirely present.

“Hey, honey. Welcome home.” She greets as she pads over to where he’s kicking off his shoes.

“Hey, baby.” He mumbles. He sounds exhausted and she knows that he’s going to need some loving tonight so that he doesn’t go to bed upset about today.

“Wanna tell me about work?” She tries to gauge what exactly caused him to be like this. She knows that it has to be something to do with the business part of his musical career, but she needs to know exactly what’s gotten him to this point so that she’ll know what to do to fix it.

“Just meetings and Jeff badgering me about getting things done.” Before he can even finish the entire sentence, she has her arms wrapped around him.

She knows exactly what he needs to get his mind off of the stress and aggravation that’s weighing him down. Fortunately, it had been a while since he had paid enough attention to the details of his appearance to give himself a spa day, so she has enough room to give him the entire experience.

“Want me to paint your nails, H?” She suggests, knowing that he most likely does but just won’t openly ask for it.

‘You don’t have to do that, love.” He tries to assure her that it’s not something that’s required of her, but she can tell by the way that he slightly straightened up that the thought of having her redo his nails excited him.

“Nonsense, I want to do it.” She nudges him slightly to emphasize her point.

“Fine, if you insist.” He gives her a small grin, which she fully lights up at. She’s already getting him to destress and that makes her happier than just about anything. 

She drags him to their bedroom and instructs him to sit on the bed. Once he complies, she walks over to the bottom drawer of her nightstand and pulls out the bag that she keeps full of nail products just for him.

Pulling out the nail polish remover and the cotton balls, she sits down beside him and adjusts everything to where she’ll be the most comfortable using it. She dampens the cotton balls with the remover and gets to work on stripping his nails of the polish. After a few minutes of rubbing away at his nails, she disposes of the used cotton balls and picks up the cuticle pusher.

“Please be gentle.” He all but whines when he sees the tool in her hand.

“I’d never hurt you, baby.” She coos, putting the pusher down to grab ahold of his hands.

“I know, it just scares me a little bit still.” She softens even more than she ever thought possible at his words. He’d always been a little weary about the nail tool, but she always made sure to let him know that he’d be fine. She knows that it can look a little intimidating, especially when she’s pushing his cuticles back.

“I’ll be careful, honey. I promise.” He lightly shuts his eyes and nods, signaling for her to continue what she was doing. She picks the pusher back up and takes her time pushing each cuticle back, making sure not to push too hard or go too fast. 

After she’s done, he reopens his eyes and smiles at her. “Thank you, love.”

She leans up slightly and presses a quick peck to his lips. “It’s my pleasure, baby.” He blushes slightly at the pet name and it makes her heart swell in her chest. “Now, what color are we thinking?”

“Um, what color are you gonna do yours next?” He asks, looking up at her through his lashes.

“Probably pastel yellow. I’ve been wanting to do yellow for a while but I don’t think the neon would look good on me.” She slightly scrunches her nose at the thought of neon yellow nails and he chuckles lightly at how cute she looks. 

“Then I think I’ll do pastel yellow too, if you don’t mind us matching.” The blush returns to his cheeks and she quickly agrees with the idea of matching him. 

As she pulls out the perfect shade, he fidgets with the hem of his pants. Normally, this is something that would go unnoticed, but tonight everything is making her wonder how he’s doing.

“You alright, H?” He snaps his head up to meet her eyes and his hands stop all movement.

“Yeah, why?” He looks like a deer caught in headlights and she’s confused as to why he looks so nervous.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He quickly nods his head and looks away. She decides to let the subject drop, but not even a minute later, he sighs and looks back over at her.

“Can we take a bath after my nails dry?” He rushes his words, like they burn his tongue. 

“Of course, honey.” The smile that breaks out onto his face makes his dimples pop and she feels like her heart skips a few beats. 

They fall silent while she finishes painting his nails and applying the top coat. 

She’s just thinking about getting up to go run the water when he all but whispers her name. “Can you tell me about your day?” 

“Yeah, what do you wanna know?” She maneuvers herself until she’s sat beside him instead of in front of him. He cranes his neck to the side to look at her and she motions for them to lay back on the pillows at the top of the bed.

“Dunno really. Just wanna know how your day went. Like…” He pauses for a moment so he can focus on getting comfortable without messing up his still damp nails. “Like, what you had for breakfast, how the drive to work was, what you had for lunch, if anyone was rude to you, that kinda stuff.”

Once they’re both settled into the pillows, she looks over at him. “I had pancakes for breakfast, they were really good. I put chocolate chips on them.” She reaches out to push a stray curl out of his face. “Um, the drive was alright. I listened to your songs on the way so it made it go by a little faster.” She pauses, immediately regretting telling him that. Yeah, she’s supportive but sometimes she finds it weird to listen to his songs in the car. It’s a feeling that she can’t quite put a finger on, but she’s scared that he’ll find it even weirder than she does.

“Which ones?” He urges her to continue, not even batting an eye at the fact that she listens to his songs even when he’s not around. But really, now that she actually takes a moment to think about it, why would he? He listens to his own songs, so why wouldn’t she?

“Um, ‘Sweet Creature’ was first, and then I put on ‘Fine Line’ and finished with ‘Golden’.” She reaches down to grab one of his hands. She lightly taps at the nail to see if it’s dry and finds that they’re completely set.

“Can we go take our bath now? You can keep telling me about your day there.” He basically whines out the words and she can’t help but chuckle.

“Of course, sweetheart. Come on.” She pushes herself up and out of bed and reaches for his hands. He gladly grabs onto her and lets her lead him to the bathroom.

“Thank you for this.” He stops right inside the bathroom door and spins her around and into his arms. 

“You don’t need to thank me.” She mutters into his chest and he squeezes her tighter. 

“Yes I do. You don’t have to do things like this for me.” She pulls back slightly so she can look at him.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I do it because I love you, H.” She runs a hand up his chest to the side of his neck. “And when you come home like you did today, I just wanna see you happy.”

“I love you too, baby.” He whispers before leaning down slightly to attach their lips. After a moment, she pulls back and moves away from him. He begins to pout before he realizes that she’s moving to start the bath.

He follows behind her and watches as she adjusts the water to the temperature that was just right for them to be able to sit in the bath together for as long as they wanted. She inserts the stopper into the drain and turns back around so she’s facing him.

“Can I undress you?” Normally when he asks that question, it doesn’t sound like he’s a little kid hoping to be allowed to get a new toy.

She nods her head and he closes the small distance between them. His hands immediately drop to the hem of her shirt. Before pulling it up and over her head, he looks at her again for confirmation. Her nod is all he needs to slip off the shirt and throw it into the counter. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, so he moves down to her sweatpants. Normally he would have taken a moment to admire her body, but that’s not what this moment is about.

After he slides her sweats and her panties down her legs, she kicks them off and moves to undress him. She takes her time unclasping all of the buttons on his shirt and carefully slides it down his arms. The shirt gets draped over the towel rack, as will his pants once they’re off. She may be ready to get into the bath with him, but there’s no way that she’s going to throw Gucci clothes on the floor without a second thought. 

Before she goes to unclasp his pants, she reaches over and turns off the water that was filling the bath. When she turns back around, she sees that he’s already finished undressing himself. 

“You’re so impatient.” She complains, although she’s not actually upset by it in the slightest.

“Just wanna be close to you.” He gives her his best puppy eyes and she immediately pushes him closer to the bathtub.

“Get in.” He does as he’s told, sliding through the bubbles and into the water. He makes grabby hands at her and she moves to get in with him. She steps into the tub and situates herself between his legs. Her back is to his chest and his arms instinctively wrap around her torso. The moment that her body relaxes into his she can feel him sigh in content.

She leans her head back against his shoulder and cranes her neck to try and look at him. “Feel better baby?”

“Much better. This is exactly what I needed.” He leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away and completely relaxing.

She takes a moment to admire how peaceful he looks. His appearance had done a full one eighty from the time that he had walked in the door until now, and she was glad to be the reason that he felt so much better.

She turns back around and gets comfortable before relaxing into his body. 

As much as she hated seeing him stressed out and worked up, she loved having nights like these with him, and she’d never turn down the opportunity to pamper him.

*

Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!! Again, don’t be afraid to reblog and leave feedback!

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[eddsworld-headies]

i was wondering if u could do a tord/tom with a female reader that dresses really baggy-VERY TOMBOYISH but is decked out with all types of rings and chains. doesn’t dress girly but still barely wears makeup and likes to have pretty nails at the same time.

Oh wow what a coincidence my-- OC IS JUST LIKE THAT HAHA WELL SINCE YOU ASKED MIGHT AS WELL RIGHT??

--------

Tom huffed loudly, not noticing that Tord had helped himself to sitting at the kitchen table to watch him press his forehead to the window, looking outside. He simply stayed silent, watching the brit get frustrated while opening and closing cabinets.

"Lose something?"

Tom groaned, slamming the cupboard door and turning round and facing the Norwegian with a sneer. "Screw off. I don't need you chewing my ear off." He replied grumpily, moving towards the living room and giving a quick glance around. " What, did you lose something in the bottom of your flask? Other than your self-worth?"

"EDD!" Tom shouted, making Tord roll his eyes as he stood up, following Tom as he moved up the stairs. "Jesus, don't be such a tattletail. I'll stop bothering you." "This isn't about you, Commie."

The two stopped in Edd's doorway, Tom holding onto the edge of the door trim as he leaned in. The leader of the group was jamming to some tunes at his drafting table, tablet pen in hand and hoodie wrapped around his waist.

His room was messy, seeing as he wasn't the only one occupying the room now that their newest addition moved in from America and needed a place to stay.

"Hey," Tom said loudly, moving in and lightly slapping Edd's shoulder, the tallest of the group shifting his eyes over before lifting his left earbud out. " Where's your sister?" The black eyed man asked." Huh?" "Your sister, dude, where is she?" " I dunno. She's your girlfriend, keep better track." "It's not like I have a tracker on her or something." "Then maybe you should invest in one." Edd retorted, settling his earbud back in his ear.

"Thanks for the help." The dirty blonde scoffed, pushing the second ginger of the house to the side and moving past him. "Oh!" Edd said, pulling out his earbud once more. "If you figure it out, let me know!" "Whatever!"

"You seem ever worried today," Tord started, continuing to follow the other-- much to his annoyance. " What? You fuck something up again?" " Fuck off. I haven't seen her all day. I'm just worried, Dick." "It's not like she can't take care of herself." "I know that. But she's a fucking dumbass with an impulse disorder and a can of pepper spray. Plus 4 years of law enforcement and dumb fucking defense classes in a tiny 5 foot package. The girl thinks she's indestructible and that doesn't go well with her--" "Tendency to do dumb fucking shit?" "That's putting it lightly. I guess getting into trouble runs in the family."

Tom perked up when the front door opened, Matt walking in with his hands behind his back as a much shorter figure following behind.

"Fuck, there you are-- What's with your hair?" Tom asked, moving toward his girlfriend, who's impossibly short cut hair almost replicated her brother's. " It's windy. And of course someone had to put the top down." She said, green eyes narrowing at the freckled ginger who was smiling brightly. "Oh, but look how good my hair is!" Matt whined, trying to get a bit of sympathy from his best friend's sister.

It was times like this that Tom realized, without her snake bites and brow piercing, their were only a few differences to Edd and his sister. Besides the accents, they could be twins if her eyes were a different color. And you know... If she wasn't a fucking twig.

Tom can remember how hilarious he thought the two were where they were younger. Sure, they weren't as big as they were now, but seeing this skinny short stack next to a guy like Edd and claiming them to be siblings was hilarious. But they looked a like, identical traits in each but separate none the less.

He had to admit, seeing his girlfriend without her hair pushed back was a little odd. She rarely wore it in a cowlick like her brother.

"Okay. Where did you two go off too?" He asked, noticing that the only girl in the house hand her hands shoved into the pockets of her blue zip up hoodie. The red long sleeve down to her wrists while the blue sleeves of her jacket were up to her elbows, and her tan pants and sneakers were slightly muddy. Practically all the cuffs of her pants were dirty, since she usually liked to go through puddles and mud rather than walk around a foot or two.

"We went to the mall!" Matt exclaimed, suddenly thrusting his hands into Tom's face. The shorter flinched, grabbing Matt's wrists and pushing them away to get a look at his hands. His nails were long, at least an inch and a half, and bright purple with butterflies and hearts. They were rectangles at the top and wrapped pretty nicely in a white french tip. "Aren't my nails gorgeous?"

"Yeah, their great," Tom said, letting his wrists go. " And why did you need to get your nails done?" "They were so dull before! I can't be this perfect and have dull nails! Plus, we got a 5% coupon!" Matt explained. Tom looked over to his girlfriend. " And how much did this cost?"

" 63 pounds each." She answered, her boyfriend raising a pierced brow. "Each?"

"Ah! Well yes, of course! I simply couldn't have a spa day all to myself," The ginger said as Tord took a seat on the couch, messing with his phone. "Sooo, I invited Bridget to come along!" He said, grabbing her hands out of her own pockets and revealing her nails. Long and sharp, deep blue with little piercings on them and a little blue marbling.

She smiled guiltily as Tom's eyes widened. "I mean- I couldn't not." She defended. "Bride- Baby, You're an All-star, really-" "Ah yes, just what every girl wants to hear." She teased lightly, fully knowing neither were at the "I love you stage" yest so finding a compromise was hard. "Yeah yeah- But... You're the clumsiest person I know. And you chew nail polish off your nails. In what world is this a good idea?"

Bridget blew air as her ran her hands through her hair, the front lightly sticking up in her normal do but half deflated without hair gel. " There is none- But! Listen to this!" She said excitedly, moving towards the wall and clicking her nails repeatedly on it with a wide smile, the noise loud and slightly satisfying. " Eh? Right? Isn't that great?" She asked. Tord sat up, laughing lightly. "You game for a living and the first thing you do is get acrylics-?" Bridget shushed him, moving over and running her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp as his face scrunched up.

"Don't think about the future, think about the now." "OH gOd that's horrible!" Tord groaned, cringing but laughing at the odd feeling. "Fuck it feels like your scratching my brains!" Tom rolled his pitch black eyes. " You're gonna hate those in two hours." He insisted, watching her creep closer. "Okay. I'm hearing you," She said. " But in my defense...."

Bridget moved forward, wiggling her fingers in her boyfriends face. "These are fucking sick." She whispered, her nails lightly scratching at his stubble and making his laugh and pull back from the ticklish feeling. " Fuck that's absolute shit." He chuckled, face scrunching as Edd jumped down the stairs.

"Hey! I knew I heard you-" His eyes widened as they landed on his sister, the siblings locked in a staring contest as she slowly moved her hand away, this time towards her brother.

"What the hell are those?" "Edddyyyy," "Don't you dare." "EEEEEddddddyyyy," "Bridget, I swear to god if you touch me with those things-" " I think you need a back scratch, Eddy bo' Beddy." "Get away from me you fucking dwarf!"

///////////

Tom groaned as he scratched his stomach, lazily flipping out the band of his sweatpants so he didn't have to tie them as he went to the kitchen. He opened the fridge door, goosebumps forming over his chest as he reached in to grab the milk. He kicked the door close with his foot and turned to fill his glass, jumping out of his skin at the figure in the arch way to the living room and hall.

"Jesus-! Damn it, Bridget! The hell are you doing?" He asked, hand over his chest as she stared at him, eyes slightly bloodshot and wide as she stood in the arch way, his blue hoodie down to her thighs and the peaks of dinosaur boxers underneath. Her hair was spiked up now, only slightly ruffled. " Did you just finish your stream?"

"Seventy-eight," She said shakily. " Seventy-eight fffffucking run-throughs, because my fucking nails! Keep getting caught!" She whispered- but it was more of a stage whisper with her theatrics as she held her hands out awkwardly. " I want them off, Thomas." Tom stared at her for a moment, eyes wide as she looked at him with a death glare.

"..Uhhhhh," He dragged. ".... There's a Buzzsaw in the attic?"

//////

haha I really just wrote a short with my Oc in it cause I have that kinda power so suck it

( But if ya'll really want an x reader one I can write another one. It'll litterally be the same though I have a bunch more asks to get through)

[mageofseven]

Could I request MC hanging out with the brothers but having a hard time enjoying it cuz they’re stressed from school? How long would it take for each of them to notice MC just isn’t having fun and what would they do?

Of course, Nonnie! I actually really like this prompt~

~

Lucifer:

The oldest noticed within the first day of them being stressed

However, he left them to handle it on their own, thinking it was just a rough day and that they should be better by tomorrow.

When tomorrow came and they weren't better, the man grew concerned.

He invited them out to dinner Friday to take their mind off of whatever has been plaguing them.

When the human didn't seem to be able to relax during dinner, he simply sighed.

"Please, tell me what has had you so tense these last few days."

They told him that their Devildom History class was getting too overwhelming; there was too much that happened in the last few millennia and too many dates to remember. They felt they couldn't keep up like the rest of the class could.

"MC, the rest of the class has been studying this material for a few hundred years at least." The man reminded them. "Neither Diavolo nor myself expects you to work at the same level as the other students."

He admired that MC took their studies seriously, but found it silly that they would compare themselves to students who were so much older than themselves, even if they didn't appear so.

After dinner, he took them for a relaxing evening stroll, which helped the human clear their head a bit.

Mammon:

He knew within the first couple of days they were stressed out.

The second brother took them out to a party and usually they loved parties, but that night they just... felt weirdly distant. They would say that they're having fun, but it all just seemed... force.

The man didn't like it. He pulled them to the side.

"Oi! Enough with the fake smiles, Human!" He told them. "What's with the silence?"

MC stared at the ground.

"I...I failed the exam last week." She mumbled. "The teacher handed the tests back Monday and it was the worst I've done yet."

Really doesn't understand it.

Yeah, he gets anxiety when he fails stuff too, but that's only 'cause of Lucifer. He doesn't actually care about his grades beyond that.

Takes them home since they aren't really feeling it. The two hangout in his room, blasting music as they curl up on the couch together.

MC is still upset, but appreciated the closeness.

Leviathan:

Doesn't really notice at first, too absorbed in the video game.

When he finally passing the level he's been struggling with for the past hour, he turns to MC, seeking praise, but the human isn't looking at the screen or him, but rather into space.

Immediately feels dejected. Is he boring them? Probably. Who could have fun with an otaku like him? That's the thoughts running through his head that start spilling from his mouth.

MC has to reassure him for a while that what he's worried about simply isn't true before explaining things.

The amount of classes you were expected to take here at RAD was... overwhelming. Eight different classes that demanded so many hours of studying outside of it.

MC didn't even feel like it was okay to be spending time with Levi right now because her anxiety kept screaming at her that she was falling behind.

Boy is instantly awkward upon hearing about their stress.

How...how was he supposed to help? The otaku did not have the social skills for it.

MC sighed.

"I should...probably just head back to my room--"

Panicking, Levi grabbed their arm.

"Levi?"

The man looked away before tugging them close, letting the human lay their head on his shoulder.

"J-Just... relax." He mumbled, face red.

MC gave the demon an odd look before giving a small smile and snuggling into his side.

It didn't solve their issue, but the human appreciated his worry.

Satan:

Noticed the stress as it developed.

MC was struggling to keep up in their Seductive Speechcraft class and it was taking its toll on them.

Didn't want to say anything until they come to him however; this is their business after all and he didn't want to bug them about it if they just wanted to handle it by themselves.

Still quietly worried though.

Invites them to his room one evening to read together, hoping some quiet time will help them relax.

He saw that their gaze usually found it's way more towards the window than down at their book however.

The man sighed, lowering his book.

"Alright, please tell me about it."

"Huh?" They turned to him, confused.

"You have concerns about the Seductive Speechcraft material, correct?"

"I... yes." They mumbled, looking away from the blonde.

"Well, what about it is stressing you out?"

MC blushed.

"I... I understand most of it from a theoretical standpoint, but... the actual use of it all is difficult for me. I always score low on the practical exams."

The demon smirked.

"Well, I suppose some practice would be the answer."

The two have a rather enjoyable study session. It was actually useful to the human though and they felt more confident with the material.

Asmodeus:

Notices it while the two are out shopping.

Asmo just came out of the dressing room and expected compliments about the outfit. When they never came, the man pouted.

Despite loudly announcing his entrance, the human was still staring into space.

"MCCCC, Look at me!"

MC glanced at him.

"Looks great..."

The fifth brother huffed.

"Doll... what is it?"

MC sighed and just kept it vague, saying school was just a bit much for them right now.

Asmo frowned. He went and paid for the outfit before leaving with the human.

He dragged them straight to his room, earning a confused look from the human.

Spa Day, begin! Massages, nail polish, face masks, the whole nine yards!

The two talked and Asmo listened his Doll vent about some other students in her class talking shit about them, even though MC was pretty sure they had never talked to those demons before since coming to the Devildom.

Hypes up his human tells them how wonderful they are and that those demons obviously have no life.

Tells them that those jerks aren't really worth their time-- but if MC is interested in revenge, he's got some dirt ready for them.

Beelzebub:

Probably the brother who is the most sensitive to their mood shift.

It comes with the territory; Beel is more or less the rock of his family, helping them out whenever he can

And, especially when it comes to Belphie, Beel has learned to be observant with these sort of things.

So when MC first showed signs of stress, the poor boy was worried.

He's still a pretty quiet guy though so he wasn't really sure how to approach the topic with them.

Asks them to walk with him to Madam Screams

It was a quiet walk. Once there, he managed to get them to order something though, which made Beel feel a little better.

On the walk back, that's when he decided to speak up.

"So," He finished the last bite of his donut. "Are you feeling okay?"

The human shrugged.

"I dunno." They stared at the brownie in their hand. "Just kinda... I dunno."

Beel, not interrupting them, gives MC a minute to collect their thoughts and continue.

"Hey... is it possible to drop classes at RAD with me being an exchange student?"

The redhead raised an eyebrow at the human.

"Nevermind, it nothing..."

"Are you having trouble with a class?"

MC stared down at her feet as she walked.

"Maybe..." They mumbled. "My Hexes class is just... it goes a bit too fast for me. I don't think I'm really learning anything."

The demon listened as the human talked about how behind they were in the class and how overwhelming it was. At one point, they even started tearing up.

Beel stopped in his tracks, pulling them into a hug.

MC looked up at him surprise.

"It'll be fine." He promised. "Let's go talk to Lucifer about this, okay."

The human nodded, causing a tear to fall on her cheek.

Before they could wipe it though, Beel did for them.

"Let's go home." He gave them a small smile.

MC smiled back.

Beel felt that he couldn't do much to help, but was glad he could direct them to Lucifer, who could.

Belphegor:

This boy notices more than people think.

The human just seemed out of it during the day

And even sought him out for naps when it was usually the other way around

MC just seemed so disconnected from him and his brothers those last few days, not to mention a bit tense.

That's what led them to the planetarium.

The two laid on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

Though the human still seemed distracted, they at least seemed calmer.

That wasn't enough for the demon though.

He gave a big sigh.

"So what's the problem?"

"Huh?" MC looked over at him, confused.

"You heard me; what's your problem."

The human bit their lip.

Belphie rolled his eyes and pulled the human to his chest.

"You can talk to me, Dummy."

"I just... I've been having some trouble at school is all."

Belphie narrowed his eyes.

"What trouble?"

MC sighed.

"There's this guy in my Hexes class who... he's not all that nice." They explained. "He put a fake flame on my uniform Monday and made me embarrass myself in front of the class while trying to put it out... and all my teacher did was shame me for not recognizing illusion spell he used."

Belphie's arms tightened around them.

"Give me a name."

"Belphie, no."

"Why not?"

"Because I know what you are going to do and I don't want you getting in trouble for me."

The boy huffed, annoyed.

"Then tell Lucifer or something; don't let them get away with that!"

"But... if I tell Lucifer, the teacher will probably get in trouble too and the last thing I need is to get on their bad side, especially in a class I already struggle with."

"Then maybe he could get them replaced or something, I dunno, but you shouldn't just lie down and take it."

MC didn't say anything, just hid their face in his chest.

The demon closed his eyes, letting himself calm down before laying his hand on their head.

"I care about you, Butthead." He told them. "Now you gotta start caring about yourself too."

The two ended up falling asleep together on the floor. Nothing really change, but cuddling up with Belphie and explaining the situation really did make them feel a bit better.

[astrablossom]

Random Assortment of Fluffy Obey Me Shenanigan Ideas

*Feel free to use these ideas. But make sure to credit me if you do, thanks.

Lucifer does not have a six pack. I don't care about canon, this dude has a slight chub. Especially during the winter and he has to constantly smack away Diavolo and Simeon so they would stop blowing raspberries on his tum tum.

I find it really cute that Simeon is terrible with technology and goes to Asmodeus or Mammon for help when Solomon and Luke aren't around.

Simeon making hot chocolate for everyone like the sweet angel he is. But then he and Barbatos trade secrets about Lucifer and Diavolo like nosy neighbors. Sipping their hot cocoa while eyeing the two with false innocence.

Asmodeus screaming when he sees how poofy Simeon and Mammon's hair get during monsoon season. Mammon gets irritated when he comes home because everyday is like a bad hair day. Simeon sighs and gives up when his hair starts to frizz and stick in odd direction. Asmodeus to the rescue and he got all the products on stock. Except a spa day.

Leviathan falling asleep beside Belphegor after gaming all night. Mammon takes the photo and makes it his phone background.

High school AU where Simeon is the country bumpkin who sucks at tech and Levi is the shy otaku. They end up getting along.

Lucifer gets turned into a baby and the brothers have to take care of him. Many blackmail photos.

Leviathan is that quiet kid in class that always sits by himself. One day on the swings three kids: Asmodeus, Beel, and Belphegor drag him to play. It's mostly Asmo that does the talking but all 4 eventually get along.

Dunno if this counts as incest but I find it sweet if Belphegor would trace Beel's scars. Maybe give them soft kisses when he feels terrible.

I already wrote this but young Mammon having a nightmare and asking to sleep with Lucifer.

Mammon or Leviathan wearing braces and hating the struggles of it.

Barbatos babysitting the brothers. Chaos ensues.

Solomon and MC doing human things that straight up confuses everyone else is hilarious.

A brotherly moment between Mammon and Levi one night and Beel overhears the conversation. Mammon asks Levi if anyone could love him and Levi says that's a stupid question because of course someone loves him. He asks Mammon the same question too. Based off a scene in Sally Face.

Diavolo simping for Simeon.

Everyone tries on high heels and tries to walk around like a bad bitch. Only a few pass. I would love to draw this actually.

Asmo having a spa day with Lucifer and Satan. It ends with them watching Castle In The Sky.

Asmodeus goes shopping with Simeon and manages to get him to try on a dress. Ensue simping mode.

When MC sees the past with Lilith it's actually at a random time and when they come back to they start crying without knowing. Looks at the brothers and tell them they really are kind.

Cloud gazing with everyone.

The brothers appreciating the small things Mammon does when he isn't stealing their stuff.

That's all for now. Should I make a part two? Let me know in the comments. Again feel free to use the ideas but credit me.

[rainpuddle13]

19. playing with each other’s fingers

Ross&Demelza

I apologize, @veryflowerobservation, for taking so long to post this. It sorta got away from me :P I hope you enjoy!

This fic is a prequel to Tears and Sunflowers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an ungodly hour.  This having to get to the airport a minimum of four hours before an international flight was for the birds.  Their flight to New York was scheduled to depart at 8:35am.  Ross didn’t even know why he bothered to attempt to catch a few hours of sleep the previous night. Demelza was practically vibrating with excitement in the bed next to him. She had never flown before. So he’d done the only thing he could do in that situation -- help her work off some of that nervous energy -- and he bore the marks on his shoulders to prove it.  He just felt sorry for the very nice elderly couple who were occupying the room next door to theirs at the hotel.

He checked his watch with a groan.  

6:21am.

He thanked the good Lord above for exclusive traveler lounges. If he had to queue with the masses in the main terminal, he might not be responsible for his actions. That early in the morning, access to only that swill that passed for coffee at Costa, and masses of travelers with varying degrees of comportment would have him seriously contemplating murder. It would be a very poor defence if he was brought before the crown court, but surely an understandable one.

“You should eat something,” he said to her after she kept fiddling with the fingers of his hand resting on the knee if her crossed legs. They were cuddled together on a small sofa in a quiet spot where she could take in all of the hustle and bustle of the enormous lounge. There were quite a few people for that early in the morning, but there was so much space that it hardly felt crowded.  He could feel her leg bouncing as she wiggled her foot. “The food is usually pretty exceptional.”

“I don’t know if I could,” she told him, weaving their fingers together and stilling her fidgeting for a moment, “too excited.”

Ross snorted softly as he was never one to be too nervous or tired to eat something. “You could get a haircut or a massage instead,” he teased, glancing over to see the expression on her face.  The Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse Lounge at Heathrow was an overwhelming place with all sorts of over-the-top posh amenities.  She was impressed they’d been picked up at the hotel and delivered to the airport in a private car and then were whisked through priority check-in and security in a matter of minutes.

“Really?” she asked, eyes widening with the obvious sensory overload she was experiencing.

“Yes,” he assured her, chuckling a little, and knowing her head would have exploded if she knew how much two upper class tickets had cost.  “There’s a spa too and shower rooms.”  Ross had wanted her first international flight to be comfortable and memorable, but he feared it might set her expectation a bit high for any future trips they might take. There was a far cry between the pampering in upper class and the indignities of the overcrowded economy class.  It was just as well because he would need the extra legroom these days with his stiff knee.

She pressed a little closer to him and her fingers toyed with the heavy rose gold band he wore on his left ring finger that matched the more delicate one she wore.  “You want to eat something don’t you?” she inquired.

“What I actually want is coffee,” he paused for a moment, his stomach answered her question with a low grumble, “and I probably could nosh on something.”  He’d opted to keep his eyes closed for a few precious minutes while she got ready instead of sending for room service, safe in the knowledge that there would be an abundance of food and drink provided by the airline.

“I can try to nibble on something.”  She pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek before standing up and holding her hand out to him and he couldn’t help but notice his beautiful wife attracting the attention of several of the men around them. Demelza was comfortably dressed in jeans that showed off her long legs to perfection and a deep gold turtleneck topped off with a rich brown leather jacket, and her glorious crown of red hair was barely contained by a loose braid.

Within a matter of minutes, he was attempting not to guzzle a cup of expertly brewed Sumatran coffee while waiting for his fry up to be brought to him.  Demelza carefully sipped her steaming cup of tea, but left her plate of assorted breads and pastries untouched.  He reached across the cozy dining  table to snag a flaky and buttery croissant off the plate.  

“You’re going to eat everything off my plate aren’t you?”  he asked when she raised an eyebrow at his thievery. 

“Noooo,” she swore, her eyes following the heavily laden plate an attendant placed before him followed by another to replace his near empty coffee cup with a fresh one.

He picked up the knife and fork to start in on the perfectly poached eggs after a liberal dousing of pepper. “You too can have your own plate. All you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t think I could!” she insisted, stabbing a bit of roast potato and grilled mushroom with own fork. 

“Likely story,” he snorted, pushing his plate to the middle of the table so she could graze more easily. This was a common occurrence with her -- insisting she couldn’t possibly then proceed to demolish his plate in fairly short order. It always happened when he ordered something that was absolutely terrible for him, but so very good for that exact reason. Anyone else and Ross would find the behavior less than endearing.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re going to New York?” she queried while attacking the fried bread to smear in the runny eggs he had somehow managed to get a few bites of before she could turn her sights on them. “Not that I’m complaining mind;  I’ve always wanted to go, but it’s a long way for a few days.”

It took everything in him not to blurt out the reason for what seemed like a sudden weekend jaunt across the pond, but actually had been in the works for months. She loved Van Gogh. The Met was having a once-in-a-lifetime exhibit. How could he not take her?  “I told you I really wanted good pizza.”

“Oh, Ross,” she sighed in frustration, then changed her tactic.  “You’ve been to New York before then?”

“Loads of times,” he answered, slathering strawberry jam on his croissant since it was becoming abundantly clear  he wasn’t going to get to eat the breakfast he’d ordered himself,  “though it’s been a few years now.  Father used to go fairly regularly for business and would drag me along.”

“What did you do when you were there?”

“I used to spend a lot of time at the natural history museum and the New York Public Library.”

“Of course you did,” she smiled fondly as she spoke.  She was well aware of his love of doing research and learning.

“I like dinosaurs,” he said matter-a-factly, "and the museum has an amazing exhibit.”  It was true. He did like dinosaurs, even now, and he’d wanted to dig for them up until the point he discovered girls were infinitely more interesting, and alive.  Demelza didn’t need to know that bit though.

“You are such a boy,” she said with a shake of her head. “What else did you two men do on the town?”

“Sometimes we take in a show or go to dinner at fancy restaurants.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was trying to teach me a bit of culture.  One time we went because Papa wanted to see Van Morrison at Radio City Music Hall.”

“Really?”  

He chuckled, surprised that little piece of information had taken her by surprise. She did know his father pretty well at this point.  “He is a fan.”

“I’d say so. He can be so impulsive!”

“You have no idea,” Ross drawled, tamping down some very unpleasant memories from his youth that she need not be burdened with,  “you didn’t know him in his heyday.”

She smiled fondly, and it warmed Ross’ heart that his wife and his father got on like a house on fire, but he could not help the occasional flare of jealousy it caused. “I bet he was quite the charmer back then,” Demelza giggled.

“You’d probably be married to him instead of me,” he said with a fair dash of bitterness. There were still a few things he just could not let go of and he knew it as childish to hold on to them for as long as he had, but then logic and his father were often mutually exclusive.

“I dunno about that.” Demelza reached across to take his hand with hers, twining their fingers and giving them a little squeeze, her eyes going soft as she looked at him. “I sorta kinda love you.”

“Only sorta kinda?” he teased, pulling her hand up to place a playful kiss to her knuckles.

“From the first time I saw you in the library,” she confessed, her cheeks suddenly blooming pink.

“Is that so, Mrs Poldark?” That was news to him and he was most definitely intrigued.  Ross had known he was a goner for Demelza the first time he laid eyes upon her, even if it took him months to actually admit to himself, and then even longer to let her in on his feelings. He’d had no inkling she’d felt the same. So much wasted time.

“Saved by the boarding call,” she crowed when the announcement of their flight interrupted their playful banter, and quickly began gathering up her things. The head of the cute little calico stuffed animal cat he’d surprised her with that morning was peeking out of the top of her purse.  The airplane charm that had been on the ribbon about its neck had quickly been added to her bracelet.

He grabbed up his laptop bag to sling over his shoulder and his cane. “Don’t think for one second that this conversation is over.”

“Not if I can make you forget about it,” she said with what could only be described as a diabolical grin.

He eyed her with great suspicion. It wasn’t in her nature to be scheming that much he did know, but she was definitely up to something. The question was going to be whether or not he’d survive whatever it was.  “And just how do you plan to do that?” he challenged.

“Oh, I dunno,” she purred, taking his hand before pressing in close to him to place a very sweet and demure kiss to his cheek.  “Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?”

[joyful-soul-collector]

Blanket Forts and Midnight Stories

By @joyful-soul-collector for @marvels-blue-phoenix

Rating: Teen and Up (for swearing)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, DUM-E

Summary:  This is my gift for the Friendly Neighborhood Exchange! I combined two of the prompts given to me: "The two are stuck inside on a rainy day so they make a blanket fort and watch movies, falling asleep inside of it", and "Peter has a nightmare so Tony reads to him to get him back to sleep".

Thank you @friendly-neighborhood-exchange for planning this event! The story is under the cut, or you can read it on ao3

Tony was reading on the couch when Peter nearly fell flat on his face as he hopped on one foot into the living room that morning, trying his hardest to pull on a sock.

“Mr. Stark--ack--Mr. Stark I’m so sorry I woke up late, my alarm didn’t go off--”

“Woah hey, Pete, calm down,” Tony said with a laugh, putting down his book and turning in his seat to face him. Peter had on a wrinkled pair of jeans that Tony was fairly certain were the same ones he'd worn yesterday, had somehow put his shirt on backwards as well as inside out, and was sporting such ridiculous bedhead that it reminded Tony of a mad scientist. This of course wasn’t helped by the fact that he was still struggling to put on one of his socks.

“I think the park should be open but--jesus, c’mon stupid sock--I dunno if we’ll have time to go on all the rides and still play games now--”

“Pete have you not looked out the window yet?” Tony interrupted with a frown.

“Huh?” Peter said. Tony felt his heart squeeze a little when Peter glanced out to see an abysmally grey sky, the city of New York seemingly warped by the constant torrent of rain upon the windows of Stark Tower. His entire body seemed to droop sadly at the sight, even his spiky bedhead looking much more miserable than before.

“Oh,” he said quietly, and Tony gave a sympathetic chuckle.

“Sorry bud. No Tornado of Death Ride today,” Tony said.

“Hurricane of Death Ride, Mr. Stark,” Peter muttered, flopping down on the couch next to Tony.

“Hurricane, Tornado, they’re both winds that go in a circle,” Tony said. “Besides, any ride with the phrase ‘of Death’ in it, automatically sounds super cheesy. I could come up with a better name for it, and that’s not even my job.”

Peter replied with a noncommittal “hmm”, and Tony looked up at him. Peter was frowning at his knees, slumped against the couch so that his chin rested on his chest and his arms laid limply on his legs. He seemed to be more upset about this than Tony had thought he would be.

“You know we can always go another time, right kid?” Tony said.

“Yeah, I know,” Peter said with a sigh.

“So what’s bothering you?” Tony prompted.

“I--I dunno, I was just really looking forward to this. I mean with all my homework piling up since the school year is ending I haven’t been able to come over here for weeks, and I just--” Peter cut himself off, instead gesturing angrily at the window. Tony put his arm around Peter’s shoulders as he gathered his thoughts.

“I just wanted to spend the weekend with you. I miss you a lot,” he said quietly, snuggling a little closer to Tony’s side.

“Aw Pete,” Tony said, rubbing his arm comfortingly and pulling Peter so his head laid against Tony’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry we can’t go to the park today.”

“Yeah,” Peter said.

“You’ve been really stressed about school lately, haven’t you?” Tony said, remembering how dark the circles were under Peter’s eyes when he arrived at the tower yesterday. Karen had said he was still doing his patrols after completing his homework (as his aunt had forbidden him from putting Spider-Man before his education), but his energy levels were more depleted than normal, resulting in him being almost constantly delirious with exhaustion.

“Yeah. It’s just really hard,” Peter said. “Especially this week. I did extra work every day that way I wouldn’t have to do it while I was here.”

“You did? Oh kid, you didn’t need to do that,” Tony said.

“I didn’t want to stress about it while we were at the park. And I was worried you or Aunt May wouldn’t let me come over if I still had homework to do and I didn’t wanna have to cancel another weekend with you,” Peter said, ducking his head slightly but still pressing his face against Tony’s shoulder.

“Oh gosh, Pete no, of course I would’ve let you come over. And I know for a fact your Aunt wouldn’t have cared either, she can tell school’s been taking a toll on you,” Tony said. “In fact she was the one who suggested I take you to the park. She wanted you to get a break.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “Well I guess I didn’t need to pull those all-nighters.”

“Did you just say all-nighters? Plural?”

“Ummmmm… yeah?” Peter said innocently, and Tony guessed he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Oh Peter,” Tony said, now wrapping both arms around him and pressing a kiss to his hair. “When was this? How long did you stay up kid?”

“Um… I woke up Wednesday morning, and I went to sleep again, uh… last night.” Peter said the last two words in barely above a whisper, and Tony felt him tense up next to him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, only releasing a heavy sigh and turning so he could properly hug Peter, his arms wrapped tight around him while Peter’s head rested on his chest. Peter relaxed, returning the hug eagerly.

“Well. Now I’m almost glad we can’t go to the park today,” Tony said.

“Huh? Why?” Peter asked, his voice muffled slightly by Tony’s shirt.

“Because roller coasters aren’t the kind of break you need. What you need is a calm, restful break. Get your energy back,” Tony said. “I’m thinking breakfast first, and then we do something like play a boardgame, or watch a movie.”

“Blanket fort?” Peter said hopefully.

“Blanket fort, huh? That might just be the perfect thing for you today,” Tony said with a grin. He released Peter and they both stood up. “How bout you get changed back into pajamas while I make you and I some breakfast? Ya hungry?”

Peter gave a shrug, pushing his hands into his pockets and glancing sadly out the window again before he spoke.

“Not really. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, been too stressed out,” he said. Tony gave him a sympathetic smile and ruffled his hair as he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Ya gotta eat, kiddo, that’s probably part of the reason you’ve felt so tired recently. That and of course staying awake for three days straight. I’ll make you somethin’ with lots of protein: Eggs, bacon, sausages, all the good stuff.” Tony glanced back long enough to see Peter’s eyes light up and his tongue poke out to lick his lips.

“Just as long as you don’t make me drink one of those weird protein shakes Aunt May has sometimes,” Peter said, wrinkling his nose at the thought.

“I won’t make you as long as you don’t come back out looking like an eighty-year-old blind monkey dressed you,” Tony said, gesturing to Peter’s clothes. Peter frowned defensively, but upon seeing his backwards and inside out shirt he burst into laughter. Tony grinned at him, feeling a soft warmth grow in his chest at the sound.

“You go get changed, Spiderling,” he said. “When you get back we’ll get you fed and then we’ll start on that blanket fort. Sound good?”

Peter grinned and nodded, then walked back to his room while Tony started breakfast.

~~~

Peter scarfed down his food eagerly when Tony set it on the table, finishing his plate before Tony was even halfway through his own.

“Jeez kid, did you chew any of that? I swear you’re like some kinda vacuum,” Tony said, his eyebrows raised. Peter laughed and leaned back in his chair.

“I just didn’t realize how hungry I was until you started talking about food!” he said. Tony snorted.

“Well if you want more there’s some bacon still in the pan,” he offered.

“Nah I’m full now. Thanks for making me breakfast, it was amazing,” Peter said as he cleared his plate.

“Heh, no problem kid, that’s what I’m here for,” Tony said. Peter put his dishes in the sink, but rather than coming back to the table, he started walking out towards the bedrooms.

“Now where the heck are you goin’?” Tony called to him, a frown forming on his face. Peter whirled around then jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the bedrooms.

“Supplies! Can’t build a blanket fort without the blankets!” he said.

“Ah, yes, of course, how silly of me to assume that we’d wait until everyone was done with breakfast,” Tony said with a lighthearted roll of the eyes. “And by everyone I mean me. I’m everyone.”

“Well hurry up then, everyone! We’ve still got movies to watch, we haven’t got all day!” Peter said before darting into one of the rooms. Tony laughed and quickly finished his breakfast before heading towards the hallway.

But before he could step a foot into it, an impossible mass of blankets and pillows blocked his way, almost knocking him over.

“What the--Jesus, Peter do we really need this much!?” Tony said, stumbling backwards and out of the way. Tony could barely see Peter under the pile, and even then it was just his legs. “I didn’t even know we had so many blankets.”

“Me either! Isn’t it awesome!?” Peter said, his voice muffled heavily by the mountain of fabric. “This is gonna be the best blanket fort ever!”

Tony laughed and followed Peter (or rather, the walking blanket mound), back to the living room. Together they spent the next half hour or so dragging chairs into the living room, draping sheets and blankets so they laid just right, and arranging pillows to weigh down the blankets so the fort didn’t cave in.

There were still plenty of “supplies”, as Peter called them, when they’d finished the structure of the fort, so they both dragged what was left of the blanket mountain inside their shelter and spread the soft fabric over the entire floor. By the time they finished, Tony could compare it to sitting inside a colorful cloud.

They both laid against a pile of pillows they’d fashioned into some sort of lumpy backrest and gazed around. It was a rather large space, big enough for both Peter and Tony to stretch their legs fully in front of them. But as Tony adjusted to sit up straight, his head touched the ceiling and fabric obscured his view.

“Yeah, that’s always a problem with blanket forts,” Peter said as Tony quickly bent down again to avoid disturbing the delicate structure of the fort. “The ceiling always bows in the middle. I’ve heard of some people propping up a stick in the center but then we run the risk of it getting knocked over and taking the whole fort down with it.”

“You sure are an expert on blanket forts,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, me ‘n Uncle Ben used to make them together all the time. We’d watch youtube videos and try and make the coolest blanket fort we could find. It was the best,” Peter said with a bit of a sad smile. Tony returned the grin and ruffled his hair affectionately before kissing his head.

“Well I sure as hell am not gonna be able to stand the saggy ceiling situation,” he said. “So you’re lucky you’re building a fort with a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, because I have an idea that’s gonna blow your mind.”

“Oh really?” Peter said as they crawled out of the fort.

“Yes, really, and you can keep your skepticism to yourself young man, I’ll have you know I have also made a blanket fort before,” Tony said.

“Uh-huh. Says the dude who tried to use the thickest blanket for the roof,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes. “Everyone knows you use the thin blankets and sheets for the top and all the thick blankets are used for the inside, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah yeah whatever. You go grab some snacks and set up the movie while I grab the mindblowing, cosmically amazing invention that’s going to solve all our problems,” Tony said, walking to the elevator and punching in the code for the lab.

“Alright, but since I’m the one getting the snacks, that means I get to have all the junk food I want!” Peter called over his shoulder as Tony stepped into the elevator.

“What? What messed up dimension did you pull that logic from?!” Tony said as Peter disappeared around the corner.

“Friday close the elevator doors!” Peter shouted from the kitchen.

“Wh--PETER--” But the doors closed before Tony could continue. He laughed to himself as the elevator made its way to the lab.

~~~

Peter’s face when he saw Tony leading DUM-E out of the elevator was priceless. He’d just poked his head out of the fort at the sound of the elevator dinging, and Tony relished in the surprise and excitement on his face.

“Told you I had a great idea,” Tony said with a smirk. Peter laughed and crawled fully out of the fort.

“I’ll never doubt you again Mr. Stark,” he said.

“Better not--Oi! Quit messin’ with that DUM-E, I’ve got a job for you,” Tony said, clapping to get the robot’s attention away from Tony’s book still lying on the couch. DUM-E turned around and whirred curiously. “Right, yes you, dork, I need you to pinch the fabric of the blankets right here--” Tony reached over and pointed to an area in the center of the roof of the fort “--and pull up slowly. You got that? Slowly, don't yank at it. And then, when I tell you, stop.”

DUM-E whirred and made a nodding motion with his claw. He hovered over the area that Tony had indicated before pinching the fabric in his claw and slowly pulling up. He froze immediately when Tony told him to, and after a few adjustments, the fort was finally complete.

“Good boy. Nice job DUM-E,” Tony said. DUM-E beeped happily at the praise, still staying perfectly still.

“Will he get tired doing that the whole time?” Peter asked, looking a little concerned.

“He’s a robot Peter, unlike you, he can stay up for three days straight no problem,” Tony said. Peter snorted.

“Fair enough,” he said. Then he crawled under the fort, and Tony followed after giving DUM-E a pat on his long mechanical arm.

The ceiling problem was definitely fixed, Tony could now sit up straight and see the TV with no difficulty, however that victory was slightly overshadowed by what else he saw inside.

It seems Peter hadn’t taken some snacks, instead going for all of them. Several bags of chips, at least three containers of cookies, and somewhere around five boxes of pop tarts were scattered about the fort. Peter was munching on a bag of Cheetos, his fingers already orange with the cheese dust.

“Jesus kid, are you stocking up for winter or something?” Tony said, still staring wide-eyed at all the food.

“I’m a growing boy Mr. Stark! Besides, you were the one who said I had to eat more,” Peter said, pointedly popping a Cheeto in his mouth.

“Well I kinda meant something healthy,” Tony muttered crawling to sit next to him. “But I’ll make an exception for today. Just don’t make yourself sick.”

“Whaaaat, I’ve never done that in my life, you must be thinking of some other kid,” Peter said, handing him a box of cinnamon pop tarts. Tony rolled his eyes and took one of the shiny packets.

“Oh yes, how silly of me. What’re we watchin’?”

“Star Wars.”

“Again?”

“Is that alright? It’s just, I’m still kinda tired and I’m not sure I can pay attention to anything new right now, but if you want we can--”

“No no, it’s fine kiddo. I’m happy to watch Star Wars with you,” Tony said with a small laugh. Peter grinned then grabbed the remote and pressed play. Tony wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders and Peter snuggled into his side, still crunching on chips as the words A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… appeared on the screen.

Soon, one movie turned into two, and then three, then four. To be honest, Tony wasn’t sure how many they’d watched when Peter fell asleep, all he knew was when the credits started rolling on the final movie, Peter didn’t immediately jump up to put in the next DVD like he’d done every other time.

Tony looked down to see Peter sleeping soundly against his side, empty snack wrappers and bags littered next to him. Tony checked his watch.

It was only eight o’clock.

“Well I guess you really were tired, huh little spider?” Tony whispered. Peter still had dark circles under his eyes, though they weren’t quite as bad as yesterday. Tony gave him a kiss on the head before carefully untangling himself and laying Peter’s head on a soft pillow. He spent a couple minutes throwing out all the snack wrappers and putting away all the food they didn’t end up eating, before crawling back into the fort and pulling one of the heavier blankets over Peter’s sleeping form. Then he laid down next to him, and laughed softly when Peter squirmed closer to him in his sleep.

“Sleep good kid,” Tony whispered.

~~~

Tony didn’t think he’d been sleeping for very long when he woke up. At first he wasn’t actually sure why he’d woken up, until he heard the sound of whimpering. Cries that sounded a lot like Peter’s.

“H-help…”  

“Peter?”

“Help… help I’m stuck…” Tony’s heart sank instantly.

“Peter! Peter wake up!” Tony said, his voice croaking from sleep.

“Help, help I can’t breathe--I can’t breathe!” Peter said, twisting in his sleep as his voice rose to a shout.

“Peter!” Tony grabbed his shoulder and his eyes snapped open, shining with fear and tears. He stared for a moment before suddenly pulling himself close to Tony’s chest and burying his face into Tony’s shirt.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright Pete, you’re safe, I promise,” Tony said, wrapping his arms around him and stroking his hair. Peter’s breathing eased after a few more minutes of reassurance, and Tony could feel his muscles relaxing under his arms.

“I--I’m sorry I woke you up,” Peter said, his voice trembling slightly.

“No, you don’t need to apologize kiddo, it’s not your fault,” Tony said. “You think you can go back to sleep now?”

Peter didn’t answer for a moment.

“I… I’m scared. I don’t want to, can we just get up now? We could watch another movie…”

Tony sighed and looked at his watch.

“Peter it’s two am. You’ve only been asleep four hours. You stayed awake for three days kiddo, I’m not letting you get any less than twelve hours tonight,” Tony said. Peter bit his lip and looked down, trying to hide the misery on his face. Tony started to wrack his brain for ideas on how to help him when a high whistling noise startled them both.

The ceiling of the fort suddenly dropped, bowing inwards again and Peter flinched hard, like he’d been punched.

“You alright?” Tony said, looking down at him in surprise.

“I--I thought the ceiling was gonna fall on me,” he mumbled, and even in the darkness Tony could see an embarrassed blush rising in his cheeks. Tony felt anger flare inside him and he released Peter, pushing himself up.

“Dammit DUM-E,” he muttered. He could hear the robot wheeling around noisily outside the fort. Tony crawled out and stood up, his fists clenched and his lips pulled in a snarl.

DUM-E was by the couch, struggling to pick up the book Tony had been reading this morning and whistling in frustration.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Tony said as loudly as he could while still keeping his voice at a whisper. DUM-E just kept grasping at the book, ignoring him. Tony stepped forward and snatched up the book. It was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Peter had been trying to get him to read the series for months and since Tony hadn’t been able to see much of his intern lately, he decided to give it a try. He’d told Peter it was just to get him off his back about it but really, he’d just missed having his Spiderling around. He ended up loving it though, and he was almost done with the third book.

“What do you want with this!?” Tony said, holding out the book and shaking it at him. “It’s a book DUM-E, you can’t even read!”

The robot whirred impatiently and turned to face Tony. He reached forward and poked the book with his claw, then pointed directly at the fort.

“…I have no clue what the hell that means.”

DUM-E made a noise that could’ve been a sigh if he had lungs. He jabbed at the book again, then this time at Tony’s chest, then insistently at the fort again.

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this,” Tony muttered, but DUM-E whistled angrily and suddenly wheeled off in the direction of the bedrooms. “Now what’re you doing!?”

The robot only whistled again and went into one of the rooms. Tony waited for a second before growing impatient and starting back to the fort, deciding to berate him for scaring Peter in the morning. But just as he kneeled down, Tony heard DUM-E whirr indignantly before something soft smacked him in the face.

“What the--” Tony held up the cloth that’d hit him, and instantly recognized Peter’s mask. DUM-E prodded the book, then the mask.

Tony suddenly understood.

“Oh. I see. That’s… actually a really good idea. Thank you. Sorry I got mad buddy,” Tony said. He patted the robot’s claw apologetically, and DUM-E forgave him easily with a wave, then turned and pinched the fabric of the fort again, pulling it up back into its original position.

Tony went back into the fort, feeling guilt at both snapping at DUM-E, but also for leaving Peter alone. Peter had sat up and was hugging a pillow, his eyes still glistening with tears.

“Hey kiddo,” Tony said. “Not feeling any better?”

Peter opened his mouth, but words seemed to fail him so he shook his head instead.

“Well, DUM-E had the idea that I should read to you. To help you fall asleep. So, how do you feel about The Prisoner of Azkaban?”

Peter’s face actually lit up at that, and he wiped the tears out of his eyes quickly.

“That--That’s my favorite one actually,” he said with a small sniff.

“Is it now?”

“Yeah. I like Professor Lupin. He reminds me of you. Like how he helped Harry when he got attacked by the dementor, and taught him magic so he could protect himself. That’s like how you give me hugs when I’m sad or scared, and you tell me to sleep more and stuff.”

“Huh. I guess that’d make you The Boy Who Lived, huh?”

“Well, I am really good at barely avoiding death,” Peter said. Tony laughed softly.

“I suppose since it’s your favorite, we should start from the beginning then,” he said. They both laid back, and Tony put on his glasses, activating night vision so he could read without a light. Peter laid next to him, waiting for the story to begin.

“Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways…”  

Irondad Taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! I don’t mind at all either way!

[aceloha]

S4 content???? I personally think people focus on the same handful of S4 pair Dynamics™ and honestly? I think aloha wanting to do some stupid shit but not wanting to do it alone and skull just kinda being Along For The Ride is hilarious. I can totally see aloha being like there's a new clothes store open and I wanna go anyone wanna come with me and mask is like lmao nope and army's like unfortunately busy today 😔 but Skull's like sure I'll come and then they spend the day shopping and buying lunch at a fancy cafe and they come back with like new hats and sunglasses and jackets and four bags of shopping each and Aloha's bought a bunch of co-ordinated outfits but skull has just bought 6 identical spare bandanas and 20 pairs of socks

I can ALSO seem them going for a spa day and aloha asks a load of questions and chats with the staff and has a great time and skull spends the whole time trying to resist eating the cucumbers they put on his eyes (I can see him enjoying it too tho)

BUT ALSO LIKE. if they go Out and do stupid shit army and mask stay In and due stupid shit. they'd make like a house of cards and play like jumbo jenga and I can see mask getting army into stratergy games and I dunno, would army play like, chess? it gets super heated but only because army goes All Out on stratergies and mask goes All Out on being a bastard (and also the stratergy) and their stuff probably starts out with a friendly level of competition and then gets intense and then gets almost collaborative (mask's pulling out the last jenga piece and even though army would win if he fucks it up their jenga stack is now ridiculously high and army actually wants to see if they can make this work)

bonus if these happen at the same time..... skull and aloha come back with bags of shopping and fancy drinks/snacks and they walk in on a house of cards, a huge jenga stack and an intense game of battleships or something

ANYWAY ask for S4 content and u shall receive my kinnie ass is obsessed

OUGHHHHHB WAA ASKSJODNDIDJD YESYESYES I really like the idea of Aloha being like? Idk how to say it? Like the most active in the group? Like he cannot stand to be stuck in appartment all day. And I do hc him to struggle abit more with money compared to the others who got some sort of kick off aid from their family when they moved to live on their own, but on days he knows he has plenty of spare money and time he will immediately hit up the others. I love the idea that Skull is just always willing to do whatever. Like, Aloha could be like “AYO I found this super cool pond with this beep ass cave in it by the beach? Anyone wanna see how deep it goes?” And Army would lecture about how dangerous that would be and Skull just “what time should we meet up?” JSISIDJDJ.

ALSO ALSO Army and Mask bonding OML- like maybe Aloha DOES drag them out to the under water cave but they actually want to stay alive so they just watch the two get ready and Army tried to small talk with Mask and asks what type of games he likes and is greeted by Masks info dump about an online game he’s never heard of. And while Aloha and Skull are off doing god knows what Army and Mask are talking about theoretical battle plans for Masks game or viseversa. Army is taking excessive notes while Masks blabbers in about stats and some of the battle plans he and the rest of cyan team used during a raid or something

I KNOW I didn’t cover the Mask and Army like. Competive bonding but I can see them trying to make the tallest Jenga tower possible. Every second Army is analysing the set up and Mask is to focused on GENTLY removing a center block to understand what army means by “structural baring support center block” jdisjeosjdidj

Also thank you for s4 content my kinnie ass is also obsessed

[well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now]

I have a question for you! As it is the lovely Mammoney's birthday coming up, what would your MC give the boys for their birthday?

This actually became a lot longer than I expected because I couldn't help writing minifics whoops and ahh asks about my MC make me happy cause I rarely get to talk about them specifically

Note; despite the typical idea you'd get from their name Eliza is neither white or western or a girl. All the relationships except the one with Mammon are just platonic✌ lemme know what you think cause feedback (either good or bad) is my only fuel

Lucifer

Lucifer gets a #1 MOM mug but also the day after his bday he gets Eliza asking Diavolo if he could let Lucifer off work for the day and dragging the rest of the brothers out of the house while making Lucifer promise he'll take a nap.

"Are you ordering me?"

"Well I mean...yeah? Not - not in a," they wiggled their fingers in front of them "pacty way. Just in a concerned friend way."

"And if I don't?"

"Well Diavolo went through all the trouble of taking on your work load... He'd be terribly disappointed if nothing came of it."

Lucifer had to stamp down the twitch of fond amusement that threatened to show on his face, "Are you trying to manipulate me?"

"No, I am manipulating you. Because it's working."

He gave them a dubious look.

"It is working. Right?"

With a sigh he said, "It's working."

"Great!" They pressed forward to give him a tight brief hug whispering "Happy Birthday Lucifer" before they were moving away, running off to presumably gather his brothers. "Remember," Eliza yelled over their shoulder, "Sleep!"

Mammon

The day of Mammon's birthday he gets a scavenger hunt. He grumbles at first but the lure of the prize at each location has him solving the riddles in seconds. Eliza trots after him to each location. The gifts, though there are a lot of them aren't anything big or overly expensive, a keychain with a little crow at the end of it, a bright gold cover for his D.D.D., A tote bag just so he could put the rest of his gift in it, that one choker/collar he had been eyeing a few days ago, a few of the old Disney princess movies because he got really into Cinderella, a warm scarf and set of mittens for the colder months because they know he prefers the warmth, a new pair of sunglasses, a new pair of earrings/studs, nail polish. But it's the little notes attached to them that's killing him.

"It's cute like you!" "Ik your eyes aren't gold but I always think of shining gold when I think of them. Maybe because they are so precious?" "I love you" "I saw you staring at it. You probably thought you'd look hot in it. You're right." "Did you know meeting you made me believe in happily ever afters?" "This one's pretty selfish because seeing you happy and comfortable makes me happy" "This one's a joint gift. I'll need to borrow them because you light up the room" "You deserve the best things because you're the best" "Have I told you I love you" "Stop solving these riddles so fast! I spent a lot of time trying to find the hard ones and now you're making me look dumb! Plus my legs are hurting."

The words of the last note blurred a bit as he tried to discreetly sniff. He'd been holding back tears since the second note, not that he'd ever let the human know (they knew). He wasn't sure why this was the one that broke him.

"Mammon?"

He turns to Eliza slowly. Making sure he doesn't crush the note.

They're panting slightly, from having to run up and down the whole house after him, but they smile brightly when he meets their eyes. "Seriously man, slow down for us weaker beings yeah?"

Then Mammon does something he rarely does. He makes the first move. He shoots forward to envelope them in a hug. They yelp at the sudden movement but immediately fold their arms around him.

They're almost the same height, something Eliza loves to hold over him, so it's easy for them to shift back and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you."

That just makes him sniff harder and burrow further into their shoulder, "Said that twice already," he mumbles between hiccuping little sobs.

"Dunno what to tell you, Mammon but I love you a whole lot. Just once won't work"

"... l - love ya too dummy..."

"There's one more riddle."

The last one simply says "Happy Birthday, Mammon."

"What's the gift?" He asks, looking around his room where the last riddle had led them.

The click of the lock and the wicked look on their face says it all.

*If you think the notes were cheesy Eliza absolutely cringed while writing them and had to take breaks to go scream in their pillow because of how sappy they were, but Mammon liked this kind of cheesy and it doesn't mean they weren't 100% sincere.*

Levi

For Levi they hunt down Simeon, trailing after him begging, negotiating and making deals.

"I-is this - this isn't - h-how - there isn't any - ELIZAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" He launches himself at them, still holding the little book. "I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ELIZA! I - " He pauses, seeming to finally register his words and jumping away, hand flying to cover his flaming face "I! That doesn't mean! I didn't mean it like -"

"Love you too," they say easily.

And that has Levi blushing even more and trying to hide his face while mumbling something about 'normies'.

"Do you like it?"

"LIKE IT!? How'd you get it! This! This isn't even supposed to exist!"

"Ah I spoke to Simeon, he wrote it just for your birthday. They're only a collection of short stories though."

"FOR MY BIRTHDAY!? A LIMITED EDITION!? NO! NOT EVEN A LIMITED EDITION, AN IMPOSSIBLE ONE THAT SHOULDN'T EVEN EXIST!"

"...happy birthday Levi?"

"I LOVE YOU!"

"Love you too."

Satan

For Satan Eliza follows both Diavolo and Lucifer around, once again begging, pleading and bargaining. Diavolo agrees pretty quickly, it's Lucifer they take a week to convince

"Where are we going exactly?"

"You'll see."

"And how exactly did you manage to convince them to let us into the human world?"

"Uhm.."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

He chuckles softly, gently bumping them with his elbow he asks, "At least tell me where we are."

"Well this is where my mother was from. She was the one who was Lilith's descendant."

"It's not the same as where you lived?"

Eliza flushes at his use of the past tense. "Nope. It's funny though... "

"What is?"

"The first people who lived, the natives, the name of their clan translated to 'Demon'. They even had a Demon King. Ah, not sure how much of that is actual history and how much has been twisted through time but. It's an odd little coincidence don't you think?"

"Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre..."

"Don't quote your detective at me."

Satan laughs. "What happened to them? In your history?"

"Well it's a bit of a long story, it's not exactly a fair one either."

"History so rarely is. It's always told through the mouths of the survivors, the winners, it rarely gets a chance to be fair, to be anything more than fiction peppered with fact." His eyes are fixed firmly on the sky.

Eliza looks up with him, staring at the cloudless blue sky.

He shakes himself out of it with a chuckle, "That doesn't mean I'm not interested in hearing it. Quite the opposite actually." He smiles sweetly at them.

Eliza grins back. "I actually managed to get us a few days here. There are lots of ruins all around the country, they're not from that original clan but they're still really old and kind of amazing. We won't be able to visit all of them but it's still something."

"It is. Thank you, Eliza. It means a lot that I'd be able to learn something new and that you're sharing this with me."

Still grinning they hug him gently.

He wraps his arms around them

"Is this the part where you wish me?"

"It is. Happy Birthday, Satan."

*Anyway this is part of our actual history and even though I haven't really decided where Eliza is from this felt fitting? The detective quote is taken straight from Sherlock Holmes*

Asmo

"Elizaaa~ This is so sweet! Ahh, I love it! I love you!!"

Eliza couldn't help the soft laugh as Asmo clung on to them, rubbing their cheeks together and enveloping them in the sweet scent of his perfume.

"How did you know I needed this?"

"Well, living with six brothers anyone would need a weekend spa retreat away from them."

"You're right, Eliza! You're so right! They're the worst and it's even started to affect my skin! I needed some me time."

"Well... It's actually a coupon for two..."

Asmo blinked at them looking down at it and yes it was a coupon for two.

"You know, just in case you wanna..." they did a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle that had him giggling.

"Well then, Dear. How about a weekend spa treatment with me? Hmm?"

Eliza blushed, stumbling back and stuttering, "That's not - I - you know - I'm just - I - "

He watches them stutter, with an amused smile before he mercifully cuts in "I know you're set on that idiot brother of mine. Lord knows why, he's such a mess and I'm much prettier. You know I love you Eliza but you really do have terrible taste."

At their scowl he giggles, "But you love him, and you look out for him and you make him happy and he does all that for you too. And, well that's all that matters, isn't it?"

They're a bit red again, but they're smiling at him softly and looking at him with such love in their eyes, it makes a gentle sort of warmth spread through him.

"No, what I meant was not everyone in my family has been driving me crazy recently and you look like you could use a weekend off too. I can tell you embarrassing stories about Mammon from back in the Celestial Realm, if that sweetens the deal? Unless," now that he thought about it, "that makes you uncomfortable!? Ah! Eliza, I'm so sorry I didn't even think! I know you don't like this kind of thing, that's okay I'll ask So-"

"No, wait Asmo it's fine. I don't mind it, if it's with you."

Asmo blinked. The warmth spread. Then he flung himself at them again, "Elizaaaaa, don't say things like that and expect me not to react!"

They laughed, easily catching him in their arms, "Happy Birthday, Asmo."

Beel & Belphie

With Beel & Belphie Eliza leads them into the attic and locks the door behind them.

"Are you going to kill us here?"

"Haha. Funny."

Belphie laughed lightly, and Eliza could almost hear Beel's frown as commonplace as it was when the topic was brought up. Not wanting to keep Beel in any type of discomfort they reached out with that flicker of magic in them and a muttered spell and lit the fairy light like little lamps that hung across the room.

"You're getting better at that." Belphie said, eyes on them and looking impressed.

Beel hummed and agreed, looking proud.

"I know." Their chest puffed out a bit and the twins laughed.

Letting the moment fade they swept their hands, gesturing at the rest of the room. "So what do you think?"

The furniture had all been moved to the sides, the blankets and pillows from the room along with many, many additional ones were all piled strategically on the floor, making a large nest like structure. The outer structure of the nest was lined with various boxes and packets of different kinds of snacks and drinks. On the wooden floor in front of the nest was a large cake decorated in warm oranges and cool purples.

"I made it!" They said, proudly before deflating a second later "Well Luke made it, he wanted to do something nice for Beel's birthday but I stood around and licked the raw batter so that counts?... There's also a handheld vacuum for crumbs." They gestured at the side.

"It looks good," Beel said with a nod. "Smells good. I'm hungry."

Belphie tilted his head, "So your present for us is our sins?"

Eliza bristled, "No. That's just the setting, next is the accessories."

"Accessories?" Beel asked softly, still eyeing the cake, only held back by the firm grip that both Eliza and Belphie had on his hands.

"Accessories." Eliza moved away to a corner, returning while juggling two wrapped gift.

"It's that manga of Levi's that you like, it's the full published series so you don't need to keep borrowing it." Turning to Beel, "pyjamas. Large oversized thick and comfy pyjamas. I washed them too so that they would smell nice and wouldn't be scratchy. So this is your present: A sleepover, cuddled together under the blankets, in large comfortable clothes, eating junk food and reading manga where none of your brothers can interrupt." Eliza stopped for a breath, their proud smile dimming a bit, "I guess your presents are your sins..."

"No. They're not." Beel said firmly. Hands already unbuckling his pants and sliding them down. He changed his clothes quickly with no care for either of his audience who, to his credit, failed to react. He folded the old ones and placed them in a corner while Belphie removed his boots.

"They're not," Beel said again looking straight at Eliza, "They're quality time doing things we love with the people we love, without having to worry about anything else." He walks up to them, enfolding them in a warm, soft hug. "Thank you, Eliza."

"Right, right. Our sins are part of it because those are things we enjoy. But they're not the actual gift. Like you said it's the settings and accessories that make the actual gift. And that's spending time together without any of those idiots interrupting us for once."

"It's a good gift." Beel said, as Belphie slid into the hug. Beel lifted them both off their feet as they clung to him.

"Happy Birthday guys," Eliza said through their laughter.

"Love you," they both said in unison.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner: Stab Me In The Front

Part 1: America’s Asshole 

Intro: It’s been a year since Katie was held hostage by Hydra, and whilst she’s still working through her feelings she has an idea about how she can make other people’s lives better as a result of her ordeal. Alongside this, she needs to take a trip to Boston to meet Harlan Thrombey-SIP’s latest author. Slightly nervous about taking a business trip alone after what happened last time, Steve offers to go with her.

What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language. SMUT (NSWFW)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Square Filled : “Mistaken Identity” @avengersbingo​ A/N: So, here we go. An Avengers/Knives Out Cross Over where Katie and Steve come face to face with America’s Asshole! The tongues are sharp and the knives are out! This is set in 2015 so way before the KO storyline so therefore contains no spoilers! You don’t need to have read SSM to understand or enjoy but please do so if you wish. 

Main Masterlist 

**Shout out to @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for being my Insult Partner when I was writing this!!**

PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG and COMMENT, This is probably my fave part of this fic I’ve written to date!! 

 October 2015

 “So, Mr Thrombey, that’s all confirmed.” Katie said, tapping at a key on her computer to lock the meeting in her calendar “11 am, Next Thursday, the 15th ”

“I’ll send you through the zip code and location for your GPS.” Harlan responded “The house is just outside of Lincoln, not far from Pierce Park. It shouldn’t be too far for you if you’re staying at the Harbor.”

“Thank you.” Katie smiled as she spoke into her phone, “I look forward to meeting you on Thursday Sir.”

“Oh, less of the Sir, Harlan please. And the pleasure is all mine Miss Stark…I mean, Mrs Rogers, my apologies!” The man chuckled “And thank you for accommodating my need to pull this meeting forward by a few days.”

“It’s not a problem.” she assured him. They exchanged pleasantries again and then she cut the call and leaned back in her chair, cracking her neck, before she double checked the travel arrangements. The hotel was booked, flight was sorted, hire care was confirmed. All that she needed to do was not forget the annotated manuscript or the cover ideas.

The door to her office opened and she looked up to see Tony leaning in the doorway, waving a Starbucks cup at her one of their familiar brown paper bags, clearly bearing treats.

“I love you bro…” she smiled at him as he wandered in, chuckling, placing the drink and paper bag down in front of her. She looked into the bag and gave a moan when she saw it was a rather large, gooey looking brownie, and gave a bigger moan when she sipped her drink and found it to be a Pumpkin Spiced Latte. “Perfect Elevenses!”

“Well thought you might need one, you’ve been locked in here since 7 this morning…”

“You got FRIDAY spying on me?” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“No.” he said at the same time the AI affirmed her suspicions.

“He has indeed had me watch you, Mrs Rogers.” “Traitor.” Tony rolled his eyes and Katie chuckled

“Well I had all this Harlan Thrombey stuff to sort, Steve’s still in Copenhagen with Sam chasing the alleged latest sighing of Bucky.” she shrugged “Not much point in lying in when you’re wide awake is there?”

“True.” Tony nodded. “Are you going back to the Compound tonight?”

“I dunno.” she shrugged “I might just stay here again if that’s ok?”

“Kiddo, you own part of this Tower, it’s always gonna be your home too.” Tony shrugged, “You can stay as long as you want.”

“Thanks Tone.” she smiled. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt safer in the Tower whilst Steve was away, even thought it was ridiculous as the Compound was just as secure, being closer to her brother was a comfort.

“I haven’t forgotten what tomorrow is.” Tony said gently, looking at her.

“Funnily enough me neither.” she sighed “I should be celebrating, a year to the day Bucky broke me out of that fucking shit hole in Canada.” she pulled off her glasses, another remnant of her time with HYDRA. Since she’d been kept for 6 weeks in that horrific cell she’d needed glasses for anything that required a long period of concentration on a computer screen or monitor if she wanted to avoid migraines. Bruce seemed to think it was something to do with the fact that her cell had been painfully bright all the time and that continued exposure to artificial light in such a way triggered a subconscious response. 

She swallowed “I’ve been trying not to think about it.” she said gently.

“Which is why I booked you and Pepper into the Dominick for the afternoon.” he smiled at her “Well, Pepper has, I’ve just given her the credit card…full deep tissue massage, facial and then Franco’s booked to do your hair…and don’t bother telling me you’re busy as I had your diary cleared and everything reschedule to next week” he watched as she opened her mouth before shutting it,, shaking her head softly. “You leave in 30 minutes.”

“You spoil me.” she smiled softly. 

“Anything for my girls, plus I thought it might keep you busy whilst Spangles is otherwise engaged.”

“He was hoping to be back but when I spoke to him before he doesn’t know if he’s gonna be.” she shrugged “it is what it is.” Tony smiled at her before he stood up “Yes, it is. And this afternoon is your pamper time so get your shit together and meet Pepper downstairs.”

“Yes sir.” she said, saluting him with a grin.  

As with anything Pepper or Tony booked, the spa was off the scale. Katie had been meaning to go for ages, and now, as she sat in the chair in Franco’s salon she was already searching available dates to go back with Natasha and Wanda. She laughed and joked with the stylist and Pepper, the pair of them enjoying yet another bottle of champagne as they had their hair done. A couple of hours later, at just gone 7pm, Pepper dragged her out over the road and into a ridiculously expensive wine bar.

“Feeling better?” Pepper asked as Katie took a huge gulp of her Sancerre.

Katie smiled “Much, thank you.” “You know, I’m always here if you want to talk to someone other than Steve about stuff.” Pepper looked at her “And it won’t go any further.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t wanna talk about it…” Katie sighed “You know, Pep, I see all these women out there, read their testimonies and things and I just wonder how they’re so strong, like, how can they can just stand up and talk about what happened to them?” she trailed off, shaking her head “And me? I just wanna pretend it never happened. So much for being an Avenger huh?”

“Hey…” Pepper shook her head, looking at her sternly. “Stop that, right now.” “Well it’s true.” Katie shrugged “I mean, I’m a public figure right? But all people know is I was missing for 6 weeks, but it was put down to a mission gone awry. I just..well, I feel like I should be out there, trying to make a difference, helping people.”

“Kiddo, what you went through…” Pepper swallowed “I can’t even begin to imagine. And how you’ve dealt with and processed it, well, frankly I don’t know how you’ve been so strong. There is no shame in wanting to simply move on and leave it in the past.”

“I know.” Katie said softly “Thank you. Having everyone around me makes me realise how lucky I actually am. I’ve got a huge support network. Not everyone who goes through...” she swallowed, not quite able to say it “not everyone has that to fall back on.” Pepper pondered something before she looked at Katie, “You know, we haven’t picked our Partner Charity for the Stark Relief Fund next year…we could make it one that deals with Sexual violence. No need to go into details as to why.” Katie considered that for a moment, before she nodded “That’s not a bad idea.” she clicked her nails against her wine glass, thoughtfully “It would make a difference, right?”

Pepper nodded. “Absolutely. Give it some thought, see how you feel.” “I will, thanks.” she smiled. 

****

Steve was exhausted but wasn’t willing to spend another moment away from his wife. So the moment the jet was down he headed straight for the garage, jumped on his bike and roared out of the compound heading down town towards Manhattan.

“Good Evening Captain Rogers…” FRIDAY greeted him as he pressed his palm to the access pad at the rear entrance from the underground car park “Mrs Rogers is in your apartment.”

“Thanks FRIDAY.” he said, as the elevator began to rise. It stopped a few floors up, and when the doors flew open he was greeted by Tony who was undoing his tie.

“Oh, you’re back.” he said, looking at Steve appraisingly.

“You’re up late.” Steve looked at him.

“Just working on a few things.” Tony said vaguely. “How was the search for Tin Man?” “Well, it was him alright.” Steve said, running a hand down his tired face “Few more leads to work on. We could have stayed out there for a bit longer truth be told but, well, I wanted to be here tomorrow, you know.” Steve said, shrugging.

The two men shared a moment of understanding, both of them having experienced unsurmountable raw pain and anguish over the 6 weeks Katie had been missing and it wasn’t something they were likely to forget any time soon. If ever.

“She know you’re home?” Tony looked at him again. Steve shook his head.

“Wanted to surprise her.”

Tony smiled softly, “She’s probably asleep.  Her and Pep have been in the Spa all afternoon and they’ve drunk a lot so…”

Steve gave a huff of a laugh “Yeah she messaged me before saying you’d sent her there out for the afternoon. That was really thoughtful of you Tony.” “Well it happens occasionally.” Tony said as the elevator stopped at his floor. “Listen, Steve…”

Steve turned to face him.

“She’s not been herself the last few weeks.” Tony scratched at his beard and Steve took a deep breath.

“I know.” he said gently “I think she’s just, well, processing, if that’s the right word. We only got back from our honeymoon 3 weeks and it kinda hit her when we got back just what time of year it was. Whilst we were away she didn’t have time to think about it.”

“Just…well, take care of her for me ok?” Tony said, looking at the Soldier.

Steve nodded “Always Tony, you had my word on that when I told you I wanted to marry her, and I meant it.”

Tony nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a look of thanks before he left the elevator on the Part Floor level. It began to rise again and Steve let out a soft sigh. Tony was right, the last 2 weeks in particular Katie had been a little quiet, less vivacious, almost withdrawn even. At first he had put it down to post honeymoon blues but Natasha had pointed out that this time 12 months ago she had been at the mercy of Hydra, with those bastards brutalising her in ways that he couldn’t even bring himself to think about. For this reason, he’d been reticent to go on the latest mission but Katie had insisted, pointing out that they couldn’t not carry on with their lives and that she would be alright.

The fact she had basically moved back into the Tower for the 3 days he had been gone, however, made him think that she wasn’t quite as alright as she had told him.

The doors opened on their floor and he stepped out. It was mostly dark as he headed through to the bedroom where he found that the TV was playing on the wall, but Katie was fast asleep, one of the pillows clutched to her chest as a makeshift cuddle partner. With a soft smile he closed the door and headed over to the bed. Kicking off his boots he lay on his side, facing her, and brushed her soft hair back off her face before pressing a kiss to the bridge then tip of her nose and finally her lips.

She stirred, her face scrunching up in that adorable way it always did, before she blinked her eyes open. It took her a second to focus but when she did her lips curled upwards into a soft smile which became an ear to ear grin.

“Hey sweetheart.” he said softly, kissing her again, his hand cupping her face.

“You’re home.” she said, reaching up to lay her hand over his. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“Wanted to surprise you.” he smiled.

“Well it worked.”

“I missed you.” he said softly, his thumb caressing her cheekbone.

“Missed you more.” she shot back and he chuckled.

“Doubt it. How was the Spa?”

“Oh it was amazing.” she gushed, her eyes shining “I had this deep tissue massage and the guy hit spots on my back I didn’t even know I had. The facial was great, and my hair…”

“I like the colour.” he said smiling, gently moving his hand so he twirled a piece around his finger. The ends were slightly lighter than usual, almost a dark honey blonde, and it extended a little up the strands before evening out.

“It’s called ballayage.” she smiled at him. “I just fancied a bit of a change.”

“Looks good on you.” he smiled “I’m glad you had a nice time, you deserve it.”

“How was the mission?” she asked “Worth it?”

“Yes and no.” he shrugged “We have a few more leads we can chase up but…” he took a deep breath “I’m beginning to wonder what the point is. He clearly doesn’t wanna be found.”

“The point is he’s your friend, your brother.” Katie smiled, moving her hand to run her fingers over his jawline, the pads scratchings lightly against his 5-oclock shadow. “Maybe he just needs a bit of time to find himself first, that doesn’t mean you have to give up on him. Besides, I need to give him back his jacket.”

“And I need to thank him.” Steve said, “For getting my beautiful girl out and safe.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year tomorrow since he found me.” she said softly

“Is that what’s been bothering you?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“The last few weeks you’ve not been yourself.”

She licked her lips and nodded “Yeah, I just…well, I didn’t give it much thought when we were on our honeymoon, you know, but since coming back and ramping up the Thrombey Campaign it’s kinda hit home a little.” And suddenly Steve understood. SIP were publishing the man’s latest book, “The Colour of Revenge” which was all about a Detective on the trail of a killer who was hunting down and dispatching of 6 men who had been acquitted of a gang rape and murder.

“Shit…” he let out a groan “Honey I…I’m so stupid not to realise that…” “Hey.”she frowned, “Don’t…” She reached up and smoothed the lines that had appeared on his brow and he let out a sigh, gently reaching up to lace his fingers with hers, bringing her hand towards him and placing a soft kiss on her wrist.

“It’s better now you’re home.” she said gently. He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss again.

“Is that everything?” he pressed and she hesitated again.

“I’m scared.” she said eventually, looking at him.

“Scared of what?”

“Going away, on my own.” she sighed, tears brimming in her eyes “I hate that they made me like this Steve.”

He let out a sigh, he hated that she was scared too. She didn’t deserve it. 

“Why don’t I come with you?” he asked, the idea suddenly forming in his mind.  She stilled for a moment and he continued “Not to the actual meeting, but I can drop you off and pick you up, hang around, whatever you want me to do.”

She looked up at him smiling softly, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t relieved he had offered. “Would you?”

“Of course.” he nodded, wiping the tears off her face. “You only had to ask.” “I didn’t want to.” she admitted “I know how busy you are here and…” “That can wait.” he said, holding her face in his hands as he drove his message home “you’re the most important thing in my life and if me coming with you makes you feel better then…” he shrugged “Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to Boston.”

“We can make a little trip out of it if you like?” she said, somewhat hopefully “Come back on the Saturday?”

“Sure.” he smiled at her. “Let’s do it.”

“Oh Stevie you’re gonna love it.” she beamed, and he smiled at the way her face had gone from being furrowed with worry to alive with excitement. “Massachusetts is amazing in the fall and Boston is just stunning…” “Well I’ll make sure I bring my sketch book.” he smiled “Give me something to do whilst you’re in the meeting.” “Thank you.” she said softly. “I’ll book us somewhere nice to eat one night. Give us an excuse to wear something pretty.”

“Like you need an excuse.” he teased, and she nipped him harshly on the arm. He chuckled and then with a groan he unwillingly pushed himself up off the bed.

“I need a shower.” he said, almost apologetically. “I won’t be long.”

“You better not be.” she muttered and he smiled, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he headed into the bathroom.

True to his word, he wasn’t long. 5 minutes, tops. But by the time he came back, the TV was off and Katie was fast asleep. Thinking back to what Tony had said, he found himself wondering if she had actually slept much at all whilst he was gone.

Steve dried himself off, stepped into a clean pair of boxers and then slid into the bed next to his wife, slipping his arms around her. Once her back was nestled snugly into his chest, he dropped a soft kiss to her neck and closed his eyes, happy to have her in his arms.

****

Steve woke the next morning to find his girl tangled around him. She’d shifted in the night, clearly, and now her face was pressed into his chest, right leg snaked between both of his, her right hand was slid under his arm, lightly gripping his shoulder whilst her left rested against her head, fingers in her hair. Smiling to himself he pulled her closer, relishing the feel of her against him. She murmured something incoherently as she gently moved, her cheek pressing into the hair on his chest, the hand around his shoulder slid down to the base of his back where her fingers simply rested, soft against his spine as she continued to sleep. 

And Steve was quite happy to let her nap for longer, using him as her own personal cuddly toy.

He dozed in and out of consciousness again, drifting off for another 10 minutes or so, before he felt Katie stirring in his arms, and a soft kiss gently being pressed to his jaw line. He smiled at the contact and tightened his hold on her again, his eyes still closed.

“Morning beautiful.” he said softly, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning soldier.” she said, her cheek returning to his chest as she basked in the safety and warmth of his hold as his hand crept up the back of the stolen shirt she was wearing, his rough fingers ever so gentle against her skin as he trailed the pads up and down her spine.

“Sleep ok?” he asked, his eyes still not opening.

“Yeah.” she assured him, truthfully. It had been the best night sleep she’d had in days.

“Good. What do you fancy doing today?”

He felt her still and then she pulled back slightly, and at that he opened his eyes and blinked to see those gorgeous emeralds locked onto him.

“Are you not needed at the Compound?”

He shook his head “Kitten, I’ve not seen you for almost 3 days so I figured we deserved one together.”

She groaned “I have meetings this morning.” “That’s ok, I’ll meet you at lunch.” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She didn’t argue. She knew full well why he’d taken the time out, and frankly she adored him for it. Without saying a word she leaned up and captured his lips in a gentle kiss that quickly became heated…but was shattered by the piercing noise of Katie’s alarm.

She gave a groan, and made to move.

“Don’t you dare…” Steve mumbled against her mouth, his grip on her tightening.

“Stevie…” she sighed “I gotta…”

He reached over, his large body flattening her into the mattress making her giggle as he swiped across the screen of her StarkPhone silencing it.

“You ain’t gotta do shit…” he said, hovering over her on his elbows. “Except me.” he added as an afterthought.

“Oh so you’re gonna to explain to the board why I’m late?” she looked at him.

“To be honest...” he said, dipping his head to trail hot kisses up the side of the next “...they probably won’t even notice you’re not there. I mean, are you really that important?”

“Fuck you.” she giggled back.

“Believe me, I’m tryin’” he quipped, his mouth nipping at her ear lobe. That made her giggle even more and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin.

“I love it when you do that.” he said gently, using his leg to part hers, leaving a large thigh pressed against her mound.

“What?”

“Laugh.” he said, his mouth moving up her jaw line “Makes me happy.”

“You’re such a sentimental sap.” she mumbled, as his lips claimed hers again, the heat between her legs intensifying as the kiss grew deeper, tongues lashing against one another. Steve pulled back for long enough to pull his shirt over her head before his lips returned to hers and Katie’s hand slid into his hair, one hand gently winding into the longer locks on top, her nails on the other dragging against the hairline on his neck. His hands moved, one gently cupping the side of her face, the other, gently skimming over her breast, her nipples already hardened. He gently teased one with the pad of his thumb and his mouth moved down to the other, his tongue and lips working in tandem. She gave a little involuntary twitch against his thigh and once more his lips quirked up into a smirk.

“You want something baby girl?” he asked, peeking up at her and she nodded.

“Stevie, don’t make me beg, please.”

And when she asked so nicely like that, how could he ever refuse? He hooked his fingers into the sleep shorts she was wearing and worked them down, before flipping down the waist band of his boxers. Katie bent her legs, as he shuffled upwards and worked into her, the pair of them letting out a groan each at the contact. Steve’s hands fell to either side of Katie’s face as he held himself up on his forearms, kissing her deeply as he flexed his hips forward, again and again, picking up a gentle rhythm.

It was soft, it was gentle, it was loving, everything she knew her soldier to be and it wasn’t long before he had her writhing and groaning loudly, his lips assaulting that spot on her neck.

“So good…” he groaned, his thrusts getting deeper. “Feel so good kitten…”

“Keep talking.” she keened, arching into him as her hands raked down his back.

“You were made for me, God I love you Mrs Rogers. So fucking much…” he said, his words punctuated by his heavy breaths as she gave a soft cry, her head falling backwards, eyes fluttering shut as she tightened around him, her legs shuddering slightly as she came.

“Atta girl.” he said, his hips becoming faster as he thrust through her orgasm, chasing his own. It wasn’t long before he felt the ribbons in his belly unravel and he came with a cry of his own, his head buried in her neck, hips slowing, thrusts going deeper before he eventually stilled, a loud contented sigh escaping his mouth.

After a few moments of them simply basking in the afterglow, Katie’s hands trailing through Steve’s ruffled hair as his nose slid against hers, she gave a sigh and pushed on his shoulders gently.

“Baby I really do need to get up.”

He pouted a little causing her to chuckle before he rolled off her and she pushed herself out of bed, heading for the en-suite. Steve watched her go before he swung his legs from under the covers,, found his boxers, pulled them on and headed down to the kitchen to make them both some coffee. *****

The idea had sprung to Katie as she’d headed out for lunch. The local shop was donating a percentage of its earnings that month to a homeless charity, and it set her mind whirring.

“So you want to donate, all the profit we make, from what is going to likely be the biggest book SIP will ever publish, to charity?” Tony looked at her.

“In a nutshell, yeah.” she said, nodding “We can split it across various charities, all those that help victims of sexual assault, abuse or crime…”

“Isn’t that what the Stark Relief Fund is for?” Saul, the SI Finance Director looked at her, and she nodded.

“Yes, but it isn’t just about the money…it’s about raising awareness.” she pressed “A lot of people don’t know those charities existed. Hell, I didn’t know about half of them until a year ago. If we do this, think of the publicity and the press and…”

She trailed off, looking at Tony. He could see the excitement shining in her eyes. She had a point, and it wasn’t like SI needed the money. SIP was her company after all, and if she wanted to use it to do something good, help people, maybe even help herself…then that was fine by him.

He shrugged and looked round the table “SIP’s vision was never about making money.” he said, and Katie beamed at her brother as she realised he was backing her “It was always about helping those who needed a hand to get their work out there…I don’t see why in this case, where they author is already so well-known we can’t use that to help those who need it.”

There was a pause and she looked expectantly round the table. One by one the board members seemed to concede, all of them that is bar their Legal Manager, Dan Robertson who was frowning.

“You’re going to have to bring Mr Thrombey on board Mrs Rogers.” he said, looking at her. “We can’t just use his book as part of a campaign without his permission.” “I know.” she said, nodding. “I’ve already realised that. I’m meeting him on Thursday next week, I’ll have a full proposal and pitch ready.”

There were a few murmurs around the table before Tony spoke “Is that it? Are we settled?”

Everyone looked at one another, nodding, and Katie leaned back in her chair, smiling.

But, she wasn’t smiling now. She had less than 24 hours before they set off for Boston and her pitch was only half way through completion.

“Sweetheart.” Steve’s hands slid over her shoulders where she sat on the chair in her office. She looked effortlessly elegant, even in sweats and an off the shoulder sweater, one toned leg stretched out in front of her, the other bent at the knee so her foot was resting on the seat of the chair, her left hand was curled around her shin, her right was tapping at her keyboard. “It’s late.”

“I know but…” She sighed, “This means a lot to me Steve…I need it to be right.”

Steve knew better than to argue. Instead he leaned over and kissed the side of her neck. “What are you stuck with?”

“I dunno it just…it all seems so impersonal.” she removed her glasses and wrinkled her nose as he sat down in the arm chair in the corner of the room “Facts and figures on sexual assaults and stuff…we all know it happens, it’s about making people want to do something about it.”

“Are you ready to make it personal?” he asked gently, taking a deep breath. He hated thinking about what she had gone through, he truly did, and if he had half a chance he’d rip the bastards limb from limb. But if she was ready to confront what had happened to her, he had to be there to support and back her all of the way, regardless of his own feelings.

“I don’t know.” she said softly “I was talking to Pepper about this the other day. I should be able to, I should be someone other women can look up to, being an Avenger and all but…maybe I’m just not strong enough.” “You’re the strongest person I know.” he leaned forward and locked eyes with her.

“I don’t feel like it when it comes to this.” she sighed.

“Honey…” he scratched at his head “Without wanting to sound flippant, since January this year, you’ve been, ok…well maybe ok isn’t the word but you’ve gotten on with things. You’ve moved forward, we both did.”

“Because we were busy, and we had no choice…”

“Well maybe…” he shrugged “But chasing down a sceptre, fighting Ultron, mobilising a new base, planning a wedding, running a business…it’s all time consuming, stressful stuff that if you really weren’t strong enough to deal with what happened, then it would have all gone to shit and probably tipped you over the edge into a nervous breakdown.”

She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she considered what he was saying.

“Honestly…” he continued, his eyes boring into hers. “If you want my opinion I think the fact that it’s the year’s anniversary of what happened that’s playing on your mind a little. You need to stop, look back and how well you’ve done and stop beating yourself up about all the things you haven’t”

She smiled softly and looked down at her hands before she glanced back up at him “When did you get so wise?” He chuckled “Well I am 97 years old.”

She laughed “You don’t look a day over 28.”

He smiled and stood up “I’m gonna make you a hot chocolate, and you’re gonna stop overthinking that and come relax, we’re up early tomorrow. You can do the rest at the hotel tomorrow evening.” “No can do, we’re going out.” she grinned at him “I booked the Chef’s table at Menton…”

“The what?” Steve frowned.

“You never heard of a Chef’s table?” she looked at him, and he shook his head “oh my God I’ve let you down…so badly. Check this out.” she tapped on her computer, bringing up the website and showed him the photos “It’s a private table with a glass wall that gives you a direct view into the kitchen. Totally impossible to get a reservation unless you book like a year in advance…or name drop.”

Steve groaned “You seriously dropped the Captain America wants a table line?”

“Yup” she popped the p as she smirked, closing down the browser page.

“Pain in my ass.” he grumbled, standing up. But as he left the office there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

One that his wife had seen.

*****

“So, was it worth a name drop?” Katie asked as they walked back into the Fireside Lounge located in their hotel.

“I’m happy to overlook the fact you acted like a total brat to make that reservation, yes.” he grinned as he went to remove her coat from her shoulders. He looked her up and down, the jump suit she was in was driving him crazy.

She grinned, and shivered slightly.

“Cold?” he asked, frowning.

“A little, don’t wanna sit in my coat though.”

“Do you want me to nip up to the room, grab your cardigan?”

“Would you?” she asked, even though she knew perfectly well he would.

“Course.” he said, dropping a kiss to her cheek “You get the drinks in, be right back.”

She headed over to the bar. The bartender, Will, was the same one who had been on before so he greeted her with a smile.

“Mrs Rogers. How was your meal?”

“Fantastic thank you.” she grinned “Can I get 2 Bourbon’s please? I’ll leave it to your choice, I’ll be back in a second, just need to nip to the bathroom.”

She excused herself and once she’d finally had the pee she’d been dying for since they left the restaurant, she set about touching up her make-up, smiling to herself. She’d deliberately picked this jumpsuit as she knew it got Steve’s blood pumping. It was a simple, plain black one with a V-neck line, but it was tight. Teamed with a thin red leather belt, red leather Jimmy-Choos and a matching bag all set off by the bright red lipstick she was sporting, she knew she looked good. Not that Steve had much room to talk, she could happily perve on him in the dark grey suit he was wearing, teamed with a black dress shirt, his collar left open…he looked good enough to eat, which she was planning on doing later.

She headed back into the bar and spotted Steve perched on one of the stools.

“Hey handsome” she said, slipping her arms round him from the back. But the moment she did that she realised something was off. He felt different, he was softer than Steve was. He smelt different, there was a really heavy woody scent to his aftershave whereas Steve’s preferred Hugo Boss or Gucci, depending on his mood, were both a lot lighter. And when the man spun to face her, although the likeness was indeed uncanny at first glance, his eyes were cold and calculating, his jaw line wasn’t quite as sharp as Steve’s and the smirk he wore on his face was nothing like the cheeky one Steve would sport. It was almost a sneer which spread across his face, every feature laced with disdain.

“What the fuck?” the man glared at her as Katie stepped back, holding her hands up in apology.

“I’m sorry, genuine case of mistaken identity…” she said, taking him in. His shirt was the wrong colour too, only she hadn’t been able to see that from the back.

“Yeah well if you’re touting for business I already got some today so get lost…” the man drawled in his light, Boston accent. “Like I just said I thought you were…hang on…” She frowned as his words registered “You already got some?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” he said, looking her up and down.

“You think I’m a hooker?” Katie snorted.

“Pretty high end one though, I’ll give you that.” the man said, nodding at her.

“I’m not a hooker.” she shook her head, laughing in disbelief.

“Oh, sorry. Do you prefer the term escort?” he raised an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes, flashing her left hand at him. “I’m married, this was a genuine mistake….” she said, her temper rising slightly. She moved away from him to the side, nodding at Will who slid the check over for her to sign to charge the drinks to their room.

Ransom observed her for a moment, fighting the smirk that was threatening to break across his face. After another row with his stupid Libtard cousin and his mother who had been at his Grandfather’s house before, he’d come out with the sole intention of getting laid and then so drunk he could hardly remember his name. After a visit to one of his usual fuck buddies he’d achieved the first part, now he was concentrating on the second. He’d been initially irritated by this woman’s interruption, but now she was getting sassy back, and he wasn’t about to let it drop. He could tell she had money, that much was clear to see. The way she talked, held herself, was dressed. Whilst she wasn’t a hooker as he had originally thought (although to be fair to her, she was pretty hot, he’d consider fucking her if the opportunity arose) she was probably living off some 70 odd year old rich banker husband. A trophy wife. Huh, maybe she wanted a fuck after all…hell, he might not have to pay for it. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

“And does your husband know you’re here trying to tap me up?” he looked at her.

“You know, if I was trying to errr…tap you up, you wouldn’t be able to afford me” she shot back, signing her name on the cheque with a flourish.

“Try me.” Ransom shot back, making a show of looking her up and down. “How much for that ass?” “I’ll kick yours for free you self entitled dick.” she said, sliding the signed paper and pen back to the bartender.

Ransom gave a bark of a laugh “I’ll pass thanks.”

Katie snorted and glanced sideways at look at him, scarlet red lips pursed as she eyed him over her glass of bourbon. “Good decision, because I’ve dropped bigger men than you for fun.” “Sure you have Dollface” Ransom quirked an eyebrow, elbow leaning on the bar, angling his body towards her. She kept hers facing forwards, arms resting on the bar top, her head shaking slightly.

“You have no fucking idea who I am do you?” Katie shook her head, not looking at the prick stood next to her.  She hated using that line, but, well, when the occasion arose to get one over on a weasely little shit like this, she wasn’t going to pass it up.

“Why should I?” he snorted “I don’t know all the little bitches in Boston.”

She felt her mouth drop open and she was about to retaliate when Steve gently appeared by her side, dropping her cardigan over her shoulders.

Ransom recognised him straight away. He’d had it quite often, been told he looked similar to Captain America. So this meant the woman he’d been baiting for the last 5 minutes was his wife, Katie Rogers, sister of Billionaire Tony Stark, the Avenger, Supernova.

He’d called Supernova a hooker.

Ransom looked into his glass of scotch, turning away back to the bar, snorting with laughter.

“Sorry baby, Sam called and…” Steve stopped, frowning at the look on Katie’s face. “You ok?”

“Fine.” she said, looking up at him, smiling and nodding towards a cosy sofa over at the other side of the bar. “You wanna go sit down over there?”

“Sure.” he said, picking up his glass of bourbon he held out his free hand for her and she jumped down off the stool.

“I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure.” She snarked to the man next to her “But I don’t lie so…”

Steve frowned, wondering what had gone down whilst he’d been away. He glanced at his wife and then turned to look at the guy that was sat on the stool next to where Katie had been to see if he recognised him and did a double take. He recognised him alright, but only because he looked incredibly like him. Granted, there were a few subtle differences, but the resemblance was uncanny, to the point that at a first glance in the street, you could be fooled.

“Pal, you should keep that bitch on a leash.” Ransom spoke, his eyebrows raising and in front of him Steve stiffened.

“What did you just say?” he frowned, pulling himself up to full height.

“Seriously, man. You save the world from Nazi’s, get frozen for 70 years and then end up marrying that.” Ransom smirked, enjoying baiting the Captain “I’d ask ‘em to put you back under…”

Steve’s nostrils flared and he felt his neck getting warmer. “Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that...”

“Steve, leave it, come on.” Katie said gently, patting Steve on the chest “The guy’s a complete ass hole. If brains were dynamite I doubt he’d have enough to blow his head off.”

“Well if we’re talking about blowing...” Ransom looked Katie up and down before locking onto her eyes. “You up for the job?

Katie let out a bark of a laugh, her hand still on Steve’s chest which was positively humming with anger as she turned to face Ransom, contempt etched across every single inch of her face.

“Go jerk yourself off and wipe it on a curtain like your father should have done with you.” she said.

“I’d rather wipe it in your hair.” came the quip back.

And that was it. That was the point that Steve Rogers snapped.

There was a loud smash, the glass he was holding shattered in his grip as his fist contracted in pure anger. Katie barely had time to realise what had happened before he had stepped forward and grabbed Ransom by the front of his shirt, lifting him and slamming him on the bar.

“Steve!” she said, pulling on his arm. “Baby he really isn’t worth it, let go!”

“Captain Rogers!” Will behind the bar was desperately trying to talk him down as well “Please, don’t make me call security.”

Security! Steve wanted to snort. Like that would do any good.

“Baby, come on…” Katie tried again, pleading to his reasonable side. “Look, we’ve had such a nice night. Don’t let him ruin it.”

Steve let out a deep breath, he wanted nothing more than to knock the asshole’s teeth down his throat, but he felt Katie’s touch on his arm and her pleading tone and he let go, shoving the man hard.

“I would tell you to apologise.” Steve snarled stepping back. His voice was steely, eyes carrying none of their usual warmth “But I suspect it’s pointless”

“Yup.” Ransom nodded “Totally pointless.”

“Like your existence.” Katie mumbled, Ransom snorting in response. “Look, Drysdale, my manager’s told you before.” Will said, his voice laced with vexation as he shuffled from behind the bar to sweep up the glass that Steve had shattered. “Any more trouble and you’re gonna be banned.”

Ransom’s nostrils flashed angrily as he looked at the man “’I’m gonna be banned? Eat shit, he’s the one that just attacked me! He ripped my shirt!” he gestured down to where Steve had grabbed him, two tears either side of the buttons of his shirt “This is a Fendi!”

“Ransom, just shut up and apologise.” Will pressed again, “Or you’re gonna have to leave.”

“Fuck this, I was going anyway.” Ransom snarled, knocking back his drink. He stood up and pulled on a long, tan coloured camel coat before he glared at Steve then Katie “Really bad smell in here.”

Katie rolled her eyes, deciding to let him have that childish one without any fuss. But Steve didn’t.

“Close the door on your way out.”  He watched as the man stopped, took a deep breath before angrily flinging the door open, his coat flapping behind him. There was a moment’s pause before it slammed shut. 

“Sorry.” Steve turned, apologising to Will. 

“He’s a dirt bag and a cretin.” Will shrugged, as he waved the apology off. “No redeeming features whatsoever. Well, none that I’ve seen and trust me, I’ve seen him a hell of a lot.”

“Is your hand ok?” Katie asked Steve gently. She turned his right hand over to see that there were no cuts at all from the glass, which was good.

“Yeah, fine, don’t worry.” Steve looked at her, frowning. “Honey, what on Earth just happened?” he asked her softly, as she took a deep breath, blowing it out of her mouth.

“I went to the bathroom and when I came back, well, I thought he was was you from behind so gave him a hug.” she shook her head “Soon as I touched him I realised I was very, very wrong. I tried to apologise and he called me a hooker.”

“A hooker?” Steve repeated, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so I told him even if I was he wouldn’t be able to afford me.”

At that Will, who had been busy pouring them both another drink, laughed as he slid 2 short tumblers of bourbon back over to them.  “He won’t have liked that at all.”

Steve nodded his thanks to the man as Katie looked at him. “How come?” she asked.

“Well, Ransom’s mother likes to claim she’s a self-made millionaire. Fails to mention the million dollar loan her dad gave her to start up her business like, but that’s by the by. Simply put, his family one way or another are loaded, and Ransom likes to be the flash bastard if you get what I mean.”

“What do his family do?” Katie asked, “I’ve never even heard of the Drysdales, and I’m pretty well connected…”

“His mother and father run some real Estate Company.”  Will shrugged, “A local one round Massachusetts, but you’ll have heard of his grandfather, or if you haven’t you’ve been living under a rock for the last 20 years.” “Who?” she asked.

“Harlan Thrombey, the crime fiction author.” Will said, and Katie felt the colour drain from her face. She turned to look at Steve whose eyes had also widened, and she gave a groan.

“Shit.”

@the-omni-princess​  @momobaby227​ @geekofmanythings16​ @angelofhell-666​ @thewackywriter​ @marvelfansworld​​  @cobalt-gear​  @asgardlover75​ @jennmurawski13​​​  @jtargaryen18​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​  @navispalace​​ @patzammit​​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​​  @icanfeelastormbrewing​​ @djeniiscorner​​  @ayamenimthiriel​​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​​  @disneylovingal​​ @madzmilllz​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​

[avengerscompound]

Marking Sense - 1. Sight

Making Sense: A Hulkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bruce Banner x Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  3170

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Angst, Smut (Bi MMF threesome, oral sex, handjobs, anal sex, vaginal sex, Dom/Sub, switching, bondage, praise kink, rough sex, gentle sex, anal play, kinbaku, come play, ice play, erotic massage, sensory deprivation, mutual masturbation). 

Synopsis:  When Hulk starts making it difficult for Bruce to live his day to day life, Bruce starts pulling away from everyone. You and Clint take it upon yourselves to help the two of them to work more together better and Bruce to become more comfortable in his own skin.

1. Sight

Bruce had been on edge lately.  There had been too many missions and Hulk was just always there.  Pressing against him.  Angry about being used.  Angry that he wasn’t trusted.  Angry because he felt like no one liked him.  Just angry and bubbling on the surface making it difficult for Bruce to focus.

You and Clint had tried to help.  You ran him baths with lavender in them.  You gave him back rubs.  You suggested going somewhere secluded where you could relax for a week and he would feel safe just letting him out.  Bruce was having none of it.  The more you tried to help the more he withdrew.  Until he started disappearing into the lab most of the night, leaving you and Clint to just worry about him.

The following day you’d woken without him there too.  Clint had told you that he’d try something today, so you’d gone into work hoping that when you got back you’d find them both home together.  When what you came home to was an empty apartment, you went straight to Bruce’s lab.

He was hunched over something looking slightly pale and twitchy.  He looked up when he heard you enter and even at a distance you could see the green ring around his eyes and the slight green at the sides of his neck.  Hulk was close.  Way too close.

“Hey, B.  What’s up?  Where’s the bird?”  You asked coming over to him.

Bruce tilted his head like he was listening for something.  “He’s right…”  There was a clatter and Clint dropped down from a vent overhead and just as he did Bruce turned and Hulk pressed hard against him, altering his face, neck, and shoulders and shading his skin a dark green.  “There!  Got you!”

“You sure did, Big Guy!”  Clint said patting his shoulders.

Bruce rapidly shrunk back in size and shook his head.  “That’s been going on all day.”

“Yeah, Bruce.  We’re having fun.”  Clint said running his hands up Bruce’s side.

“It’s distracting me from my work,”  Bruce grumbled, lowering his head.

“Aww come on now, Brucie.  You know you weren’t getting that done anyway.  I can only play the game because he’s literally sitting right there.”  Clint argued as he ran a finger over Bruce’s brow.

Bruce hunched his shoulders and turned away from him.  “I just want some peace?  Is that too much to ask?”

You took a seat on the stool next to Bruce and took Clint’s hand in yours.  “You and Hulk are really going to need to start getting along you know?”

Bruce didn’t look at you.  “You try and get along with a homicidal rage monster that shares your body and then get back to me.”  He muttered.

You spun in the stool and opened up one of the desktops in front of you without saying a word.  Bruce glanced over for a moment as you opened up a search engine and then turned back to his work.  As you typed away silently searching up remote cabins upstate and in the Woods of Massachusetts.  Clint started bouncing silently beside you pointing out options he liked the look of.  Bruce glanced back again a deep scowl on his face.  “What are you doing?”  He asked.

“I’m booking us somewhere to stay for the week.”  You answered simply.

“What?  No.  I never… I don’t…”  Bruce argued.

You looked at him, your face set, grim and steady.   “Right now, I honestly don’t care what you want, Bruce.  I’m booking this.  And if you care about us at all you’re going to come with us.  This is it.  Do you understand me?  We have been patient.  We have tried to help you with this.  But you don’t get to treat us like shit because you’re hurting.”

“How do you even think this,”  He said stabbing his hand at the screen.  “Will help?  I’ve been struggling with him all my life.”

“Maybe it won’t, but it’s only been the last few weeks you’ve been this bad.  He wants out.  So we’re booking a place where you can let him out.  Then we’ll negotiate.  It’s either that, or you lose us.  The choice is yours.”

Clint shifted beside you and focused on the screen so he didn’t have to look at either of you.  Bruce dropped his gaze and turned away.  “You’d be better off without me.”  He muttered.

“Bruce…”  Clint whined.  You put your hand on the middle of his back and he fell silent bringing himself a little closer to you.

“So that’s your choice?  You don’t want us anymore?”   You asked.

“No.  I didn’t say that.”  Bruce said still not looking up at you.

You turned back to the computer and started selecting dates for your stay in a fully catered spa cabin in the wilderness.  “So you’re coming?”

He nodded, furrowing his brow.

“Good, because I booked it.  We’re going tomorrow.”  You said.  “Clint, can you ask Nat if she’ll drop us off?”

The following day Natasha flew the three of you to the cabin and dropped you all of laden down with suitcases, groceries and other supplies for the week.  As soon as you had taken everything out into the cabin you turned to Bruce and Clint.

“Alright.”  You said and started unbuttoning Bruce’s shirt.  “You two are going to go outside and roam.  I dunno.  Maybe Hulk can play that hunt Clint game.  I’ll unpack and start dinner.”

“What, right now?”  Bruce asked looking around the room wildly like he was trying to find a way he could escape.

You pushed his shirt off and folded it, placing it neatly on a chair and moved to unfasten his pants.  “That’s why we’re here.”

“What if I can’t get back again?”  He asked.

You cupped his jaw and looked into his eyes, currently brown and flecked with iridescent green.  “You know he’ll give you back to us.  He always does.  If for some reason he’s too upset, we’ll have a little chat.  There are conditions on this trip.”  You said.  Bruce nodded and stepped out of his trousers.  “Are these the ones that change with you?”  You asked snapping the waistband of his boxers.  He nodded again and you kissed him softly.  “Alright off you go.  Have fun, Clint.”

“Oh, I will.”  He said with a smirk and kissed your cheek as he headed out with Bruce.  He looked around the clearing around the cabin deciding what they should do.  “Alright, Brucie.  Give him over.”

Bruce sighed and rolled his shoulders.  Clint watched as he hunched over a little and his body began to shift and change, growing and turning green.  He groaned and shook his head and as he straightened up as the Hulk.

“Little Bird.”  He grunted, looking at Clint.

“Hey, Big guy.  Shall we play hide and seek?”  Clint asked.  Hulk nodded and let out a huff of breath.  Clint pointed at the tree line.  “I’ll be in there.  You come find me.  Count to twenty, first.”

Hulk nodded and Clint took off into the forest and scrambled up into the nearest tree.  He started jumping from tree top to tree top until he heard the crashing sound of Hulk entering the treeline.  He sat still waiting, trying not to make any sound.  As the heavy footfalls of the Hulk gave him away Clint took off again.

“I hear you, little bird.”  Hulk roared charging after him.

Clint jumped and scrambled as fast as he could while Hulk pretended to chase at full speed after him, laughing loud and roaring about how he was going to get him.  It made Clint grin widely the way Hulk was treating him like a little kid who was still learning how to play and couldn’t quite keep up.

Hulk stopped all of a sudden and turned walking slowly into a clearing.  It took a moment for Clint to realize he wasn’t being pursued anymore.  He stopped, perching on a branch breathing heavily, so the only sound he could hear was the harsh drag of air in and out of his lungs.

“Little bird!”  Hulk called.  “Hulk find something.”

Clint jumped down out of the tree and followed the sound of Hulk’s voice.  As he got closer the sound of rushing water took over from the sound of his breathing.  “What did you fi…”  He said stepping out into the clearing with Hulk.  “Woah.  This is …”

The clearing was home to a waterfall.  The water poured down in three stages from a cliff across the clearing.  There was a deep pool at the base and the water was so clear you could see the rocks at the base.  The river it flowed into doglegged to the left and disappeared into the trees.  “Pretty.”  Hulk finished.  “Bossy girl like?”

Clint whistled as he made his way closer to the pool in the middle of the clearing.  “Oh yeah.  Bossy girl will like a lot.”

Hulk came over closer to him.  “Bossy girl and little bird swim with Hulk?”  He asked, delicately tugging on the fabric of Clint’s shirt with his thumb and index finger.

Clint looked up at Hulk and smirked.  “Oh, I see how it is.”  He said splashing Hulk with some of the cool mountain water.  “Yeah, we’ll swim with you, Big Guy.”

Hulk laughed and splashed Clint, drenching him with water.  “Come tomorrow.”

Clint shook himself off like a dog, spraying Hulk with droplets of water.  “You got it, big guy.  Maybe we should go back now, huh?”

Hulk and Clint returned just as you were finishing up dinner and the sun was beginning to set.  Clint was still soaked and had a quick shower to warm back up while you talked Hulk into letting Bruce come back.

After dinner was eating and the dishes were packed away the three of you sat curled up together.  Bruce was still very tense and when Clint’s hands started to tease up under the hem of Bruce’s shirt he pulled back abruptly.

Clint curled into you, looking at Bruce helplessly.  “I’m sorry, Bruce.  I just…”

Bruce shook his head.  “I’m the one that should be sorry.  I want to, but … It’s too dangerous.”

You sighed and ran your hand up and down his calf.  “Clint spent the afternoon with Hulk.  I spoke to him and got him to agree to give you back.  Why are you so hung up on him hurting us?”

“Because he’s an unpredictable toddler who breaks things he can’t have!”  Bruce shouted.  “And he always just wants what's mine!”

Clint flinched backing away from Bruce a little and you curled one arm around him protectively and scowled at Bruce.  “What the hell, B?”

“See?  See what he does?”  Bruce said getting up.

“Oh no.  You don’t get to put that on him.  That was all you.”  You snapped.  “You did it knowing Clint’s background is just like yours.”

Bruce faltered.  He looked at Clint and frowned, coming over and kneeling in front of him.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“No.  You shouldn’t have.”  Clint agreed.

“I’m really scared.  I’m scared something’s going to happen and I’ll lose you both.”  Bruce said.

Clint pushed Bruce’s hair off his face.  So you thought you’d push us away first?”

Bruce shrugged.  “I - I guess … Yes.”

“That’s my job, dummy.  Stop stealing my bit.”  Clint teased and leaned in and kissed Bruce.  It was deep and lingering.  Lips caressed each other and they both made a content humming noise.  Clint’s hands crept back up under Bruce’s shirt and Bruce pulled back again.

“I want to.”  He said.  “I - I’m scared.”

You smiled at him and cupped Bruce’s jaw, running your thumb over his cheek.  “Well, we built up to it once.  What if we do that again?  Start with watching?  That way if he does come out, we’re over on the bed and you’re all the way over on the chair.”

Bruce nodded.  “I can do that.”

You leaned down and kissed him softly.  “Well then.  I better hear you enjoying the show Doctor Banner?”

You pulled Clint to his feet and dragged him over to the bed.  He followed you with a skip in his step, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside before turning to you and pulling your shirt up over your head.  You pulled Clint up tight against you and started dancing, grinding and rolling your hips on his thigh.  He smiled at you, a twinkle to the blue of his eyes and slid his hands up your back unhooking your bra.  As you threw it off you looked over at Bruce.  He had sat down and was watching you both.  He unfastened the top two buttons on his shirt and ran his hand through the back of his hair.

You and Clint moved together.  He was agile and flexible and led you through a routine, stripping off both his clothes and yours as he did.  He made sure Bruce got a show.  Teasing him with glimpses of what was to come before revealing everything.  Running his hands over your body.  Getting you to run yours over his.  When you were both naked he crouched in front of you and ran his hands up your thighs and over your stomach.  As Clint kissed his way along your hips and sucked on your thighs.  You ran your hands through his hair, tugging on it gently.  You kept your eyes on Bruce.  He had unbuttoned his shirt all the way and was currently palming his cock through his pants.  His eyes were blown out with lust but all his.  You let out a soft moan, pulling Clint’s hair just that little bit harder.

By the time Clint’s tongue lapped over your pussy you were soaking.  You shivered and held your self steady on Clint’s shoulder as he sucked on your folds.  His fingers teased over your entrance before he thrust two deep inside of you.  He started to fuck you with them as he focused his mouth on your clit.  Licking it.  Sucking it.  Pressing his lips down on it and rolling his tongue over it.

You began to fall apart.  You eyelids felt heavy but you kept them locked on Bruce.  He was still just palming his cock through his pants, but it strained against the fabric and a small wet patch was forming.

As your moans got louder and your legs felt too weak to hold you up Bruce pulled out his cock and started to stroke it.  It was like all your senses were being assaulted.  The sight of him enjoying the sight of you and Clint was enough to set you over.  You cried out as you came, Clint drank you up, his tongue slithering inside you to taste you from the source.

You stroked your fingers through his hair swaying a little where you stood.  “How do you want us now, Bruce?”  You asked him, as you helped Clint to his feet.

Bruce let out a deep guttural moan, and for just a brief moment his eyes flashed green.  He pointed to the side of the bed and looked at Clint.  “Bend her over.”

Clint made a strangled moan and gave you a nudge towards the side of the bed.  He was the most submissive of the three of you and being ordered to take control hit a very specific kink for him.  Especially being ordered to take control of you specifically.  He moved behind you and ran his hand down your spine as he pushed down on your shoulder until you were bent over in front of him, your ass in the air.  You let out a sound that was half-moan, half-growl and turned your head to look at Bruce.  Clint pressed down onto the small of your back and stroked his cock up and down your folds.

“Like this?”  He asked Bruce, his voice coming out small and needy.

Bruce hummed.  “That’s it, Clint.”  Bruce rumbled.  “Fuck her pussy nice and hard.  That’s what I want to watch.”

Clint whimpered and thrust hard into you, shoving you into the mattress as he penetrated you.  You yelped as both Clint and Bruce moaned in unison.  Clint started rutting into you, pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in making a loud slap sound each time as your bodies connected again.  You dug your fingers into the sheets, holding yourself in place as he fucked you.  You keep your eyes on Bruce.  He pumped his cock in time with Clint’s thrusts, precome had started to run down over his knuckles.  A faint green had started to creep into his neck and you couldn’t tell for sure but it looked like his eyes were flecked with it too.  It was still Bruce well and truly in the driver’s seat though.

“That’s good, Clint.  Fuck her hard.  She’s liking it.”  Bruce said, his voice more breathy now.  “Grab her hair for me would you?”

Clint whimpered again.  “Yes, Bruce.”  He said and bunched your hair in his fist pulling it and sending a jolt right to your core, making your pussy clench.  His other hand roamed.  It slid up your back and grabbed your neck holding you down as he railed into you.  It moved to your breasts, squeezing them, massaging them, pinching your nipples.  It ran over your stomach and rested on your hip, digging his fingers into your hips.

When his fingers touched on your clit you lost all control.  Your knees gave out and your body writhed under him.  “Fuck, yes, Clint.”  You praised, as you got closer and closer to your release.  Your body seized up suddenly and you came, crying out and clenching around Clint.

“Fuck,”  Bruce gasped, you opened your eyes and saw his cock throbbing in his hand, matching the feel of Clint’s still pistoning in and out of you.

“Clint.  Here.”  Bruce grunted, barely able to force out the words.

Clint pulled out of you and walked over to Bruce a slight look of confusion on his face.  You shifted so you could watch them both.  Bruce put one hand on Clint’s thigh and kept pumping his own cock as he looked up at him.  Clint took the queue and stroked himself and almost as one they both released.  Hot, thick ribbons of come splattered over Bruce’s stomach and chest.

The stayed like that panting, Bruce looking up at Clint and Clint looking back down at Bruce.  Bruce nodded and Clint dropped to his knees and began to lick Bruce clean. Bruce’s hand went to Clint’s hair, stroking it gently and he dropped his head back and hummed.

You approached them both and sat beside Bruce, rubbing Clint’s shoulder as he licked up the mess they had made making pleased little humming sounds.  “What do you say we go take a nice hot bath together, and cuddle.  I think we could all use it.”

Bruce sighed and leaned in against you.  “I’d like that.”

// NEXT

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 52

Chapter Summary - Danielle gets her results from her x-ray, and Paul tells her a little more of how his life is going. After their talk, however, he decides to check something out for himself.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

I am sure this sort of conversation goes against doctor/patient lines, but hell, it's fiction, who cares.

And yes, I know Danielle is being childish, but darn it, she can be, she's human!!!!

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“As you suspected, there is only a tiny fracture.” Paul pointed it out to Danielle on the x-ray.

“Treatment?”

“A small brace to take care of it for a couple of weeks, diffene for the swelling and pain and no excessive movement, so no cycling or excessive paperwork.” he smiled looking down at her. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just depressing my holidays are to be spent with this,” she held up her arm, which had just been put in the restricting brace. “are you sure you can’t let me home?”

“I can’t risk you being concussed and alone. Are you sure I can’t call anyone to let you loose?”

“No.” Danielle sighed sadly. “It’s just me.”

“Danni, I know you probably don’t want to tell me anything too personal but are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” she gave a small smile. “What time are you off?”

“A half-hour ago.” He answered, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Then why the fuck are you still here?” she scoffed.

“I will go in a minute, I just said I would wait to give you your results.”

“Thank you, now run.”

“I will in a few, I am waiting for someone.”

“It’s not Charles is it?” she eyed him warily.

Paul shook his head, “No, it’s…” he cleared his throat. “Lucia.”

“Ah, the famous Lucia, I can’t wait to see her.” Paul stared at her. “Well she meets Charles’ approval, I have to admit, I am thinking Grecian Goddess, tall, blonde, angelic, cherubs around her like a halo.” she laughed.

Paul rolled his eyes. “She and I are seeing each other now.”

“Good, I am happy for you.”

“We are getting married in February.”

Danielle frowned at him before she realised the reason for such a rush in their relationship. “How far along is she?” He looked at her, “you are not one to rush in, so…”

“Six weeks.” The grin on his face told her a lot.

“Congratulations, on both fronts,” Danielle smiled genuinely. “I can see you are actually happy.”

“I am, and nervous, terrified and Jesus, I dunno.” he rubbed his hands over his face.

Danielle patted his shoulder. “I can only imagine. But you are happy, and that is all that matters, Is that why you are moving to Surrey?”

“Yes. You know, I was in London not too long ago with her, back in October and I bumped into Diana’s son, he went insane, he thought I was cheating on you.” Danielle smiled. “I genuinely thought he was going to use the fact we were no longer together to try and ask you out. How are Diana and Emma?”

“Good, I think. I haven’t seen them really with work.” Danielle stated truthfully, but her brow furrowed.

Paul looked at her for a moment. “What is it? I know you don’t realise it Danni, but I actually know you enough to know you are upset about something.”

“Please stop asking me that.” she groaned. “I am just not overly happy being in here tonight for nothing.”

“Understandable.” He nodded, deciding not to push too much. “So. that job you’re doing these days, is it what you wanted?”

“It is.” She nodded. “It’s hard, but I like it.”

“Good. I’m glad that much is going well for you.”

“I’m doing well on most fronts.” Danielle smiled. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to more money in my bank account, but overall, doing pretty good, except, of course, you imprisoning me here.”

“A tad dramatic, Danni,” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry, will you be stuck in here for the day tomorrow…”

“I’m working,” he retorted with a shrug.

“If you had let me finish, I would have added the word unnecessarily. I am fine.”

“Not getting out,” he repeated.

Danielle was about to retort again when she saw a beautiful blonde woman looking around the emergency room, “That has to be Lucia.”

Paul looked at the woman, who immediately recognised him but waved and stayed where she was, so he indicated for her to come forward. “Am I interrupting?” she asked, her accent showing a hint of a continental European country, Danielle guessed the Netherlands.

“No, actually, I was just talking to Danielle while waiting for you. Lucia, this is Danielle Hughes, Danielle, this is my fiance, Lucia Hawkins.” Paul introduced.

“I would shake your hand, but mine is on bed rest.” Danielle smiled kindly, “Paul was just singing your praises, and congratulations on your wedding, you must be excited.”

Lucia frowned for a moment before her eye caught the small cuts and bruises that littered Danielle’s arm and then her splinted hand. “Ouch, that looks fun. Yes, we are, it is so overwhelming some days.”

“A week out from it, Sarah and I forced Emma to take a weekend break to a spa, it did her the world of good, demand it of your bridesmaids, they’re obliged to pay too,” she winked.

“I may actually do that.” Lucia smiled, seemingly surprised by Danielle. “Sorry, it is just a little odd.”

“How do you think I feel?” Danielle laughed, “This jerk is forcing me in for the night with a suspected concussion.”

“You have no one looking after you,” he argued. “Don’t mind her, she is just pigheaded.” he dismissed, Danielle just glared at him. “I’m just glad you have no food to throw at me.”

“Speaking of which, tell the nurse to feed me on my arrival to my ward, I haven’t eaten since lunch,” she ordered.

“You are exactly as I imagined you would be.” Lucia smiled. “Paul told me of your ambition, you do not achieve such things with a shy demeanour, though more jovial than I had expected.”

Danielle just smirked. “Contrary to some people’s beliefs, I am not a mindless barbarian. Now drag your fiance out of here, no doubt you wish to enjoy Christmas Eve together. Have a great time and congratulations with everything, I truly wish you both the best. I have to say, Paul, I am so happy for you, really, I am. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Danni, I’m sorry you’re stuck here.”

She simply shrugged. “What can you do? It’s not like I had anywhere else to be.”

“Yeah, honestly I thought after everything, Diana’s son would have said something to you, he seemed so…” Paul paused, looking at the small hint of Danielle’s lips curling up in a small for a moment. “Well, it’s not my business.” he cleared his throat. “Goodnight Danielle, if you are not showing signs tomorrow, they may leave you home.”

“Unlikely, but we can always hope. Safe journey to you both and Merry Christmas.” she waved as they left the emergency room for Paul to sign out and for them to leave. When they left, Danielle lay down on the bed and curled up on herself. She was glad that Paul was getting the life he had wanted, with a woman that clearly had time for him, but seeing them together made her think of what he had said regarding Tom and made her feel lonely again.

*

“Should we call the police?” Sarah asked, looking at her watch, at ten at night, everyone was terrified as to where Danielle was.

“We are not related to her,” Emma commented.

“Mum is her neighbour, you’re her best friend and Tom is her boyfriend, I think it is safe to say that we are the closest thing to a family Danielle has at all, much less here in Britain.” her older sister argued. “Is Tom still over there?”

“He won’t leave. He’s scared she’ll return if he’s not there.” Jack informed them. He was about to say something else when there was a knock at the door, silence filled the room as Sarah rose to her feet and walked to the door. Answering it, she came face to face with a man she did not know. “Can I help you?”

“Is Diana here, by any chance?”

“Mum?” Sarah called behind her.

Emma and Diana rushed to the door, recognising the man, they looked at him in terror. “Why are you here?” Emma demanded.

“I’m sorry, I know this is odd, but I was working this evening, and one of my patients was Danni.”

“Elle is in the hospital?” Emma shrieked in shock.

Diana began to breathe deeply “Is she alright?”

“Injured wrist, scratches and bruises, but overall fine, she is being kept in for the night because of a suspected concussion.”

“Did she ask you to tell us? That is so good of you Paul.” Diana smiled. “Emma, go to Danielle’s, Tom needs to hear this.” Emma rushed out the door to tell her brother.

“No, actually, she told me you were not home at present,” Paul stated awkwardly.

“Why would she say that?” Sarah asked in bewilderment.

“I am not sure, but she seems somewhat downtrodden, so I said I would check since I recalled you saying, Diana, that you have everyone to yours for Christmas. She is only being kept in because she stated she had no one to return home with, and we could not risk her by herself.”

“But Tom was going to stay over with her tonight, she knew that surely,” Diana commented, shaking her head.

No one got a chance to say anymore before Tom rushed in the door, his face telling of his turmoil in his worry for Danielle, his eyes red and watery, showing he had been crying. “Where is she, is she alright?” He demanded from Paul.

“She is fine, just a small fracture to the wrist,” he answered, shocked by Tom’s reaction, when his face calmed again, that too was noted. “She just cannot be released to be home alone.”

“Why did she not call?”

“I am not sure, she gave the impression there was no one to call.”

“Can I collect her?”

“She needs to be in the care of a very close friend or family, I thought perhaps Diana could…”

“I am close, yes, but surely Tom could bring her home, they are, after all, living together, technically speaking.”

“That’s not strictly true,” Tom argued.

“Girlfriends do not tend to stay over for more than two weeks Tom and not be at least referred to as somewhat cohabiting.” His mother commented.

“If that is true, if you are together, once she confirms it, you can bring her home, she seems convinced her Christmas is doomed to be in hospital,” Paul informed him.

“Get my keys,” Tom ordered, not caring who answered his request. “I’ll have her home in the hour.”

[wesofmaldonia]

Not Getting Married Today | Weslie

Who: @charlielabouff and @wesofmaldonia

When: Saturday, June 22nd

Where: A New Orleans police station

What: After a bachelorette party gone awry, Wes has to bail his fiance out of jail the morning of their would-be wedding. 

Charlie felt terrible. Not only was she more hungover than she had ever felt in her entire life, she completely screwed up their wedding. She knew her name was gonna be all over the news about how she was drinking and that there was a fight -- and she'd ended up locked up for a few hours. For Serenity it was easy, she was okay with that. She was a princess. People would forgive her. Charlie? She had stuff that she had to prove. Maybe that was why she let go so hard for her bachelorette party. They were sitting in the car, her eyes were closed as she leaned against the tinted window. She puffed out her cheeks, her arms folded across her chest. She sunk her teeth into her cheek and she kept quiet. She dropped her hands onto her lap and fiddled with the ring on her finger, letting out a soft sigh.

Wes was still trying to figure out exactly how they got...here. He’d just gotten back from a pre-wedding spa day with Tia (turns out having her as best man was the best idea he’d ever had), and had been enjoying a relaxing post-professional-massage sleep when his phone started ringing incessantly. Thank God he’d woken up right away, or he might have missed Charlie’s one phone call. At first he thought it may have been a prank, but he knew Charlie we’ll enough to know when she was being completely serious. And now they sat in the backseat of his driver’s car, and he knew she was tired but so was he, so he wasn’t thinking clearly when he simply sputtered: “Charlie, what the fuck[/I]?!” It had a laugh behind it, so it couldn’t have sounded too angry, because he wasn’t, he was just....perplexed. “I spent my bachelor party at a spa, getting a clear coat on my nails. You...got into a bar fight?” Just saying it out loud sounded so dumb, he had to laugh.

Charlie ‘s face wrinkled up when he spoke, unsure if it was because of the laugh behind it or the pounding she in her head. She was so tired, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She dragged her hands down her face and she let out a soft breath of air. “I don’t know! He was being a dick and deserved it,” she mumbled, rubbing off the make up that was still leftover from the night before. She sighed when he laughed, dropping her hands into her lap and she shrugged. “He was a dick and he fuckin’ — he deserved it! You shoulda heard some of the things that he said.” She puffed out her cheeks and she wrinkled her nose, looking over at him. She let her eyes flick over his obviously tired face and she puffed out her cheeks. “M’sorry. I can only imagine[/] what everyone’s gonna say.”

Wes gave what could only be described as the 'white guy blinking gif' face upon discovering that the person Charlie punched in the face had been a man. Not that he would ever put it past her, but the mental image of his finace in full bachelorette party mode going off on a guy in a bar...it was bizarre, to say the least. "...About me? Were you defending my honor?" Wes teased with a smirk, before reaching his hand out and taking hers, sighing. The gesture wasn't grand, mostly he just wanted to hold her hand as he leaned his head back against the headrest of the car. "That I'm marrying a badass? Maybe," Wes mumbled with his eyes closed. When he opened them, he noticed the sky was turning an orange-y pink color. The sun was coming up soon. "We can't get married today," he sighed. "Can we?" He turned to her, his mouth pursing up into a straight line while he waited for her response.

Charlie let out a sigh, glancing over at him and she shook her head, wrinkling her nose. "He was just being gross and rude and he needed to be put into his place." She let out another soft sigh when he took her hand, gripping onto it tightly and she looked over at him. Her tired eyes flicked over his face, desperately wishing that she had her glasses so that way maybe her eyes wouldn't hurt so much. A laugh fell past her lips and she shook her head. "Or you're marrying a crazy person," she mumbled, letting her head fall back against the headrest. She inhaled sharply at his question, feeling her chest tighten slightly and she swallowed. She opened her eyes, looking over at him and sinking her teeth into her cheek. "We can. I can -- I dunno, get a banana bag or something," she stated, wrinkling her nose and she puffed out her cheeks. She gently pulled her hand away from him, rubbing at her face and she let out a soft sigh. "We spent so much time on this. It'd really suck if we didn't."

Wes wrinkled his nose, getting her drift and didn't pry any further. "Well sounds like he deserved it. You did good," he reassured her with a smirk. He probably shouldn't have been encouraging this behavior, since it is what got her kicked out of her soccer program, but he was too tired to be a good influence right now. "I already knew I was marrying a crazy person, though!" he teased with a laugh before letting it dissolve into the seriousness of the conversation that he knew was to follow. He shook his head, laughing at her suggestion. "A what?! Isn't that like...a speedo?" he chuckled. "It would suck but like...It was so fast. Did we make half of these decisions cause we really wanted them or because those were the fastest options? I know my tux is for sure way too lame for my liking. And not gonna lie....I don't love the venue." If it were up to him, they'd have gotten married right on the bayou. But they had been thrust into this wedding so fast that he said yes to things just because they'd be ready by June 22nd, and that wasn't fair to his extremely unique and expensive taste, in his opinion. Obviously if he thought everything was what Charlie wanted, too, he'd bite the bullet and do it, but he had a feeling neither of them were content with their decisions.

Charlie ‘s eyebrows pressed together at his support of her actions. Then again, they were both exhausted, so it was to be expected. She licked her lips, giving him a shove and a wrinkle of her nose. “You’re lucky I’m hungover as shit right now, or I’d kick your ass for callin’ me crazy,” she mumbled as she rubbed at her eyes, attempting to wake herself up once more. She laughed and she shook her head. “No! It’s a thing that helps people sober up,” she stated, wrinkling her nose, “I think what you’re thinking of is a banana hammock.” She let out a sigh at his words, resting her head on his shoulder and letting her eyes flutter closed. Her grip on his hand tightened. She knew that he was right. That this wasn’t the wedding that they wanted. It wasn’t the wedding that they deserved, but she knew it would be letting so many people down. She opened an eye, looking up at him once more. “Since when did you become the smart one?” she teased, giving him a gentle nudge with her shoulder. Another sigh fell past her lips, her eyes closing once more and she shrugged. “What are we gonna tell them?”

Wes chuckled. “Hey, I was just agreeing with your sentiment,” he defended before feeling her head on his shoulder. He raised a hand to stroke her hair with a sigh as she explained what a banana bag was. Whatever it was sounded grosser than a hangover. He shrugged, thinking of their guests — friends and family, people who loved them. “We’re gonna tell them...that things got complicated, but there will still be a wedding eventually. And for now, we can still party...?” He shrugged, hoping his suggestion of keeping the reception wasn’t stupid. But it would be a waste of a venue and food if they didn’t. And while his tux wasn’t what he wanted for his wedding, he’d so wear it for a summer bash.

Charlie felt herself relax when he stroked her hair, letting out a soft breath of air and she wrinkled her nose. "That's definitely better than the bride decided to get too drunk and kick someone's ass," she mumbled, letting her eyes flutter closed. She wrapped her arms around him, nodding at his suggestion at keeping the reception. "But that's definitely gonna require some Tylenol and more time to get ready, because I look like a disaster," she breathed, gesturing to her smudged makeup and messy clothes. She relaxed against him, tipping her head back slightly to look up at him and opening up her eyes -- her nose wrinkling at how dry her eyes were from her contacts. "Maybe we should -- y'know, live together before we actually get married. I need to make sure I'll be able to handle your snoring for the rest of our lives."

Wes nodded, laughing. "I know," he agreed, squeezing her closer. Wes looked out of the car window, at the rising New Orleans sun in the distance. "You've got plenty of time. Reception wasn't supposed to start til 6 anyway," he smirked. "Tylenol, though, I can do." He reached into the pocket behind the passenger seat of the car -- where his driver kept all of the essentials -- and plucked out two brands of painkillers for her to take her pick. He listened to her suggestion, then, and his brows quirked up. He hadn't even thought of that. "...That...Is a brilliant idea. Challenge accepted." He grinned, and placed a kiss on Charlie's forehead. Taking things at a #Weslie pace was definitely the right way to go. 

Charlie let out a relieved sigh. “Means I can get in a nap. After we make our announcement,” she stated, wrinkling her nose. That backlash was something that she wasn’t looking forward to, but at least they had more time to make their wedding even more perfect. She hummed when he produced Tylenol, sitting up and taking a bottle from him and opening it. “My hero,” she mumbled, giving him a gentle nudge before she popped two of the pills into her mouth and swallowed. She put the bottle back where he had pulled it out from before she settled back against him once more. The blonde smiled when he kissed her forehead, looking back up at him once more and she hummed. “Your aim is way off,” she stated, quirking an eyebrow at him, “Unless my lips moved and I didn’t realize it.”

Wes chuckled at the idea of them announcing their very small step toward happily ever after at what was supposed to be their giant step. "Sounds like a great idea. I'll even join you on that nap, I think." He started to lean back in his seat and catch some Zs on the rest of the ride home, but heard her quip and chuckled. He leaned over and placed a kiss on the correct spot this time, grinning the whole of the way. "Better?" Wes smirked.

[wordstrings]

~Of Maintenance~

Written and submitted by @ask-flip-frost​. (Publisher’s notes can be found at the end of the work.) Words: 3,900

Edit: now with Part 2: Physical Therapy

—

“Dean,” The whisper paired itself with a soft swat to the elder Winchester’s left shoulder. “C’mon, just go lay in your bed or you’ll be stiff all day tomorrow. We’ve got to be out the door in four hours if we’re gonna make it to Jody’s on time for the barbecue. You know how she gets if we’re late.”

With a non-committal grunt, Dean blindly reached out for the last swallow of beer and backwash occupying a bottle next to his armchair. Sam was right, of course, but there was no reason to be quick about trudging from one sleeping spot to the next. Over the last few weeks, the hunters had definitely earned a half decent rest.

One grimacing chug later, Dean finally managed to coerce his body into curling up into a proper sit. Off-brand beer was even more of a sin when it was warm. Pitiful stuff. He pressed his calloused palms to his eyes and rubbed vigorously with a loud inhale through the nose.

“Okay. I’m grabbin’ a nightcap, then I’ll go. Satisfied mom?” he groused.

“Just don’t overdo it.” Sam returned.

“Yeah, yeah…” Dean mumbled, lifting one of the bunker’s antique decanters to the lip of a possibly clean glass. “No, hold on. Wait. Sam, c’mere a second. You seein’ this?”

At first, it wasn’t obvious. A trick of the light, or sleep addled eyes could have easily allowed the Winchesters to dismiss the peculiar shadow, but living on high alert such as they did made them question everything. One by one, they removed items from the side table: the crystal whiskey container, the glass, the empty beer bottle, two dusty lore books… As far as they could tell, there was nothing left to block the yellowed light and cast a small, malformed shadow like that. Sam patted a hand flat on the table top, but felt nothing. The action seemed to stir the object, however. It puffed itself to one side, then drifted to lay mostly flat once more. To confirm his suspicions, he blew softly on the surface and watched as the shadow shivered in place until it fluttered up enough to show the easily identifiable shape of a feather.

“Whoa…” he breathed.

“What do you think? One of Cas’? It’s gotta be, right?” Dean squinted, slowly moving from light source to light source in hopes of seeing more. “Sam, they’re everywhere. Do angels shed?”

“I think it would be molting, but I dunno. Maybe? I’ve never seen it before. I mean, they’d be good for spells, so I don’t want to waste them, but we really ought to ask just in case there’s something wrong with them. Since he’s just gotten back to angel status, they might be… tainted?” Sam frowned.

Honestly, neither of them wanted to have that conversation. Both brothers were acutely aware of how difficult of a time Cas was having at the moment. For months, he’d been barely clinging to life on the stolen grace powering his body. Even now with his own essence back, he still seemed like he was dragging on empty in search of the next Gas N Sip. Truthfully, this could have been the effects of his self-loathing. There was really no way to tell. Shed feathers? This was stupid. It could wait.

“Burned,” Castiel announced quietly from behind Sam.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean pressed a hand to his heart. “Little warning?!”

“We uh, didn’t know you were here. Sorry.” Sam winced.

“I gathered that.” Cas droned, staring steadfastly at the litter of his own making. “They won’t be of much use to you in this state. I apologize for the mess. I didn’t realize how many I was losing.”

Dean pulled an exaggerated shrug and swiped a dismissive hand as if to say that it wasn’t a big deal. They were bachelors. Manly men with disorganized… manly… manly… uh. Maybe playing it off was a poor decision. Castiel wasn’t looking up from the floor, so Dean chose to squat down squarely into his field of vision.

“Look… Cas… we know you haven’t exactly been running on all cylinders lately. I know you probably don’t wanna talk about it, but you’ve gotta level with us: how bad are you hurting right now?”

For a long moment, it seemed that Castiel was intent wholeheartedly on avoiding an answer. Melancholy blue eyes met earnest green.

“I can handle it.” Cas replied finally.

“That’s not what I asked.” Dean asserted. “We know you can handle it. Doesn’t make you a baby to admit something hurts. If there’s something we can do to help, let us try. We owe you that much.”

Hypocrisy ran as thickly as blood through the veins of Dean Winchester, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to push when it was needed for other people to reassess their self-care practices.

“We can’t see them. Anything you tell us, we’re going to have to believe, Cas.” Sam added, hoping that a gentle request of trust would be accepted rather than abused.

Per usual, the rolodex of Castiel’s mind began to flicker back and forth as he searched for the proper way to convey exactly what was going on in his head, leaving his face on the organic equivalent of a loading screen. On the one hand, these humans had suffered more worries than any person should have to endure. On the other, if it alleviated their consciences even a little, perhaps the battered soldier would be willing to meet them halfway. Just this once. He felt that he deserved this pain; this atonement. But for them, he would be willing to put on the guise of allowing relief, if only for a little while.

“I’ll… look for something in the library to lay out what they currently look like. For the time being, sleep. If you can promise to rest, I will promise to let you assist me.” Castiel relented, feeling his shoulders slacken in defeat.

“Deal!” Dean slapped a hand to his knee. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

Jody threw a barbecue every month. It wouldn’t kill them to miss one. She might threaten to kill them, sure, but Dean was certain that if they all worked their puppy dog eyes at once, at least one of them might be spared. Probably. He’d delegate coming up with an excuse off to Sam in the morning. Maybe she’d buy that he sprained his hair. Seemed feasible.

When the quiet snap of closed doors indicated the brothers retiring to their rooms, Castiel dolefully began to move through the musty bookcases of the bunker’s library. The Men of Letters kept extensive research on all manner of creatures, but the tomes held precious little on angelic lore. All Castiel was looking for was something close to being anatomically correct. While it pained him to look at the stack of avian biology books he’d collected by the end of the night, he had to admit that it was as close to reality as he was going to get with these particular resources.

–

“MORNIN’, SUNSHINE!” Dean crowed when Cas finally trudged into the kitchen.

Sam gave a sleepy wave from the coffee machine by way of a more subdued greeting. As far as beginnings went, at least they didn’t seem to be pitying the trench-coated fellow, and that was enough to set his nerves at least fractionally at ease.

The next hour or so was spent flipping through books and explaining the makeup of angelic wings. They discussed feather growth issues, various skin traumas, and the limited maintenance Cas had been able to do without further injuring himself.

“The damage runs deep. All of my oil glands ware cauterized shut, so I’m not able to express natural lubricants to preen. This means that my skin has remained charred and chapped. New feathers have been budding in sparse patches, but I haven’t been able to expend the energy to help them along. The muscles are strained. It takes more effort than I would like to admit just to keep them from dragging on the ground.” Cas confessed. “In Heaven, if my battalion happened to be convalescing after demonic battles, there were thermae available to us with great basins of holy oil where we could soak off the injuries from hellfire or other various maladies.”

“Thermae? Like a bath house?” Sam paused in his note taking to see the angel’s affirmative nod.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that what Big Bird needs is a giant bird bath?” Dean grinned. “That’s hilarious.”

Cas glowered, hunching his shoulders defiantly.

“Ahem. Well. Cas. Holy oil is kinda tough to come by, but you know what? We’ll make it work.” Sam promised, doing his best to soothe his friend’s ego. “Might have to improvise a little, but we’ve got big tubs in the recovery room here in the bunker, and if you need a soak to help things along, we’ll handle it.”

At this, Castiel allowed the smallest of meek smiles to tug at one corner of his lips.

–

Dean would argue to his dying breath that he’d helped with gathering ingredients, but every moment he’d spent in the holistic spa supply shop felt like a steady drain on his testosterone levels. Castiel held no issue in picking through the various bath additives, be they floral or woody in nature, while Sam was mostly consumed in reading ingredients. If Dean didn’t know better, he could have sworn that his little brother had asked the clerk how to make a bath bomb at home. All the same, he did his best not to vocalize his grumblings on the ride home. Even if Baby smelled like Bath & Body Works threw up in the backseat. Repeatedly.

No matter how apprehensive he’d been to begin with, Castiel was actually beginning to look forward to a good soak. In much the same way that stargazing allowed him the illusion of feeling closer to home, he was fully intent on basking in the almost-memory that the tub was bound to stir within him.

“Okay. I’m estimating that these-“ Sam gestured to one of the deep copper tubs in the recovery room. “Ought to hold about a hundred and ten gallons of fluid. So. Y-well, it’s a lot. Normally you don’t mix oil and water, but we’re going to have to. I’ll get it started if you want to, uh… get ready.”

Cas furrowed his brow, squinting his confusion through a trademarked tilt of his head.

“I was just going to get in like this.” he rumbled, wondering what needed to be gotten ready.

“It’ll be hell getting oil stains out of all that, and I’m not adding a run to JC Penny’s for a new suit onto our already girly day.” Dean argued. “You can borrow some trunks.”

“DEAN’S trunks.” Sam added, holding out a hand to shush Dean’s fussing. “I didn’t get mine at yard sale.”

Welp. Dean couldn’t argue with that. And apparently neither could Cas. Every protest he made seemed to irk his human charges more, and there was no sense in making this more uncomfortable than it already was. After changing into the offered set of shark print swimming trunks, Castiel stood awkwardly against the washroom wall. He tentatively took in the relaxing scent of eucalyptus bath salts, various essential oils (mixed with the small amount of pure holy oil that could be spared), and something with notes of cedar billowing on the furls of fresh steam. It was pleasant.

“Would it work a little better if they were out in the open?” Dean asked plainly.

The angel shrank his shoulders back, and a very soft rustling noise could be heard over the running water. It sounded like someone crushing handfuls of dead leaves. Clearly, Cas did not want anyone looking at the mangled ignominy attached to his body.

“Look, Cas… buddy… you’ve seen me at my absolute worst. Sam, too. I know I’ve been taking shots at you all day, but you know I don’t mean it. Just trying to lighten the mood. You’ve been, uh… well, you’ve been really damn sad, Cas. I know it’s a big deal, but it’s not a big deal.” He held up a finger. “Don’t correct me. We’re not gonna make fun, alright? Scout’s honor.”

“You’re not a scout, Dean.” Cas protested.

“I was! I was a cub scout for like two weeks, and it counts!”

That seemed plausible. Not comforting, but plausible. Cas ducked his head in shame. He didn’t want to be seen. Not like this. Not broken and so thoroughly pitiful. Slowly, though, the near skeletal structure of his wings began to bloom out in hesitant jerks rising from his shoulder blades. Ashy grey skin stretched painfully over the muscles. Blisters, cracks, and flakes of peeling flesh took up most of the expanse of space. Some charred feathers were still clinging hard to their designated areas, while others were snapped and dangling freely. It was anyone’s guess why he actually revealed himself this way. Call it a gesture of faith, or a test of their bond, perhaps.

“See? Wasn’t so hard.” Dean nodded, clapping Cas on the shoulder, giving a sympathy wince when the angel pulled back a fraction at the contact. “Sorry. Uh. Yeah, so hop in!”

Sam quickly looked down and pretended to re-read the bath salt label until the smaller fellow had tentatively slipped into the medicinal tub. It wasn’t until Cas was properly occupied with shifting the extra limbs around him that the brothers mouthed a collective WOW at each other. The span of these things was impressive to say the least. They could only imagine how massive the wings would be at full fluff.

Even folded close to his body, Cas had a difficult time squeezing the wings all the way into the large tub. With a little rearranging it was manageable, though. With a final hissing sigh, he closed his eyes and laid back enough to tilt his head in a soft recline on the tub lip.

“Temperature okay?” Sam asked, trying to break any tension left in the room.

“It’s good.” Cas confirmed.

“Good. Good. So, uh. Wings, right? That’s a thing. How do we, ah… how do we help? I mean, you can’t reach em, right? Like trying to wash your own back?” Dean offered awkwardly.

“Just soaking will be sufficient to aid in the healing process.” Cas rolled his head from side to side on the back of the tub to decline.

“Well, maybe, but exfoliating a little couldn’t hurt. The eucalyptus has antibacterial properties, so that’ll help the smaller cuts, but we have ointments and everything. Couldn’t hurt, since your grace is still getting resettled.” Sam pressed. “You’ve fixed us up enough times.”

Though there was a grumbling noise bubbling deep in his throat, the angel did not directly say no. That was good enough. In Dean’s experience, not-no means yes. For now, his friend’s skin needed ample time to absorb the moisture. It didn’t look very pliable in the current state it was in. Seemed like a good time to go fix some lunch and figure out exactly what the hell they were going to use to exfoliate wings with.

Once the brothers had departed, Castiel took the opportunity to sink down to his neck, knees making little slicked islands on the water’s surface. He rolled the quill of a loose inky feather between his fingers. It was a shame that he’d never allowed extra Sight abilities to the Winchesters while his wings were at their mightiest. It wasn’t so much that he’d slipped them out from between planes as the brothers might have believed, but more that Castiel had reached out to touch their eyes with his grace to sharpen their senses enough to perceive them. If a little uncomfortable on his behalf, neither Sam nor Dean reacted in a way that would indicate repulsion. This wasn’t terrible. Between the oils and truly having a moment to think about proper healing, the skin was fast losing the stinging edge of being burned and wind-chapped.

“Look what I found.” Dean called in, poorly juggling three loofah sponges. “No wonder Sammy’s skin stays baby smooth!”

“Wouldn’t kill you to have a skin care routine by now, Dean.” Sam replied airily. “You’re not twenty anymore.”

Reluctantly, Castiel locked the elbow joints of his wings onto either side of the tub and pushed himself up into a sitting position. The left wrist nub scratched idly at his knee while he watched the loofahs being tipped into the tub to soften up. He tried not to notice the surprise on Sam and Dean’s faces. Humans tended to think of wings as fixtures rather than actual limbs.

“So, I was thinking,” Sam broke in. “I’ll get the back of the right wing, Dean takes the back of the left, and you can handle the fore-arm areas. Sound good?”

“Yes. If you would, though, be careful of the blood feathers.” Cas advised, lifting the right wing up to indicate some of the little new budding stalks. “They’re painful to touch at this stage. I’m not going to break if you hit them, obviously, but it would be unpleasant.”

It wouldn’t be too hard to spot them. Rather than blood, the little barbs were actually filled with an amount of low glowing grace.

“We’ll watch out for em.” Dean promised as he shed his flannel overshirt to keep from soaking it.

Oh, this should have been done ages ago. Gentle glides with rough sponges over Castiel’s skin sloughed away layers of irritating barb membranes and dead flesh. It was glorious, like having an itch scratched that you’ve been ignoring for far too long. He didn’t want it to stop. The angel didn’t even realize that he’d essentially been purring until he managed to catch a glimpse of Dean’s face in his peripherals. Apparently it was highly amusing. Fantastic. He cleared his throat and fought to reign in the temperature change of his face.

“That didn’t take too long. Just about got everything, I think. There’s a little in the joint here, but-“ Dean lightly scratched with a blunt forefinger nail at the shoulder crook of the wing he’d been working on, only to have it forcefully yanked away. “The hell, Cas? That hurt?”

Castiel swiveled to look over his shoulder in confusion, as if the wing had betrayed him in some way by moving against his will.

“No. That was strangely involuntary.” he shook his head, slowly arching the wing back into Dean’s hands.

Dean cocked an eyebrow and gave a dismissive head tilt. He’d have to be careful. If the limb had twitched a bit harder in a different direction he might have ended up feeling like a mule had clocked him in the face. That definitely would have soured his mood. But the offending patch of dead skin was still there, and the professional buff-and-shine detailer in him just couldn’t just let it go. That’d be like leaving scuff marks on a bumper. He figured that he simply needed to approach differently. Slowly now, he dragged two fingers past the spot again. This time the entire tub sloshed as Castiel jolted his body to the opposite side.

“DEAN.” he stated firmly. “That’s alarming. Please don’t do it.”

Eyes were alight with confusion, but Castiel’s scrunching nose and trailing smile suggested that at least the vessel itself knew what was going on. Along with everyone else in the room, it would seem. He looked from one Winchester to the other in want of an explanation.

“What?” he finally asked.

“Ticklish wing-pits, that’s what.” Dean beamed.

“Oh,” Cas frowned, connecting dots.

He knew what it was, though there had never been a sensation connected with the term it in his mind. It was certainly peculiar.

“It’s not a big deal. Most people are at least a little ticklish.” Sam assured him.

“Yeah, it’s nothing to get all jumpy about. Come on. Bring it back in so we can finish up.” Dean gestured insistently. “We’re almost done. You can take it. You’re a soldier, right?”

Cas tilted his face forward as if looking over the rims of invisible spectacles. Over the years he’d gotten at least minutely better at reading a room, so he could tell that plenty of subtext was writhing underneath the façade of aid, no matter how good of a poker face Dean was pulling. Subtle baiting with the soldier comment hadn’t gone unnoticed. Perhaps he could count on Sam to keep Dean’s big-brother instinct in check.

“Why do I get the feeling that you are advocating for something unpleasant?” he sighed, once more extending out his wings and facing away.

“Oh, don’t complain.” Dean scoffed theatrically.

The hunched shoulders and brooding huff he got in response was particularly funny.

Once again, fingers slipped under the wings. There was an immediate shudder. The muscles were clearly straining to cooperate and keep from snapping down against Castiel’s back. Only a few seconds went by before the angel’s whole torso was trembling in bottled laughter.

“Hey, Sammy, tighten up your side. There’s a ton of that shed membrane under there, too.” Dean chided, failing to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Right, sorry.” Sam half-smiled, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to play along for a minute or two. “I’ll get on that.”

Both sides being assaulted at once broke the dam of Castiel’s resolve. The muscles of his back twitched hard as either wing moved up and down, left and right in near desperate squirms to escape the torment without hurting anyone.

“You’re making this a little tough to do. Can you try holding still?” Sam asked innocently.

“I-I am incaPABLE!” Cas laughed, low melodic sounds rising in pitch when strong arms, one from each brother, looped out to better keep him in place.

“He’s a slippery son of a bitch,” Dean snorted.

It probably didn’t help that the grasping hands were definitely-not-on-purpose plucking at his ribs like harp strings, all under the guise that he was just too oil slicked to properly lock into a spot. All of the grace-filled feather buds were flickering wildly to the cadence of the angel’s laughter, much like Christmas tree lights.

“Wait, wa-hait, wait! Mer-“ Cas shook his head though persistent man giggles. “Mer-cy?!”

“Allllllmost done, tough guy.” Dean grinned, wishing that he spoke Enochian fluently enough to understand the pleas tumbling out. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I can’t!” Cas cackled, frothing the water with his struggles.

“You can’t translate?” Sam prompted.

Quite suddenly, the room went dark as an almighty angelic tone seared through the lightbulbs. Sam and Dean clamped down their hands over their ears and ducked for cover. Meanwhile Castiel sank back down weightlessly into the tub with his wings hanging limp over the sides.

“Am I sufficiently clean yet?” he croaked out.

Dean was the first to shake out a nervous chuckle and offer a hand out of the tub. Sam draped a beach length towel over the exhausted fellow’s shoulders when he’d managed to take a few unsteady steps out onto the floor.

“Yeah. Yeah, Cas. Looks way better now.” Dean assured him. “I mean, skin care at your age is a daily battle, though, so-“

“I’ll throw you right back into the pit, Dean.” Cas interrupted.

Honestly, he hadn’t hated it. That didn’t mean that these transgressions would soon be forgotten. Not remotely.

———

Publisher’s Notes: I am REALLY impressed with this and I ADORE it! I’m a sucker for wingfics that treat wings “as limbs rather than fixtures,” and ticklish wing-pits are THE BEST. Some of the turns of phrase here are absolutely delightful. The bits about grace-filled blood feathers (genius), Cas reading the subtext (hearteyes), banter and verbal jabs (on point) – I love it all. Kudos!

(Part 2: Physical Therapy)

[atropaazraelle]

R’n’R

Title: R’n’R

Pairing: Hints of Gladio/Ignis

Warnings: Mentions of NSFW themes but not in itself NSFW

Prompt: Relaxing

Also available on AO3

Gladio grumbled, sinking down into the car's seat as scenery whipped by. The outer edge of Insomnia was verdant green, the view marred slightly by the presence of the wall at the distant horizon. It wasn't nature, though, it was a cultivated greenery, a faux-wild, designed to be safe and manageable. The most dangerous things living in it were stray cats and dogs.

Spending a weekend with Iggy had sounded like a great plan at the time. He'd dragged Iggy out to bars and clubs and strip clubs plenty of times, and Ignis had always seemed to have fun with him. Maybe not so much at the strip club, Gladio thought. He'd sat as far back in his chair as the chair would allow when the girl had gyrated in his lap, looking as if he daren't swallow, and then he'd politely thanked her, tipped her, and retreated behind a table for the rest of the night so no more girls could get close enough. Gladio had enjoyed himself immensely, but he'd been forced to admit that maybe a lapdance wasn't how to get Iggy to unwind for a weekend, so he'd asked him how he did it.

Which brought him here, to Iggy's car, on their way to some spa retreat that Ignis claimed to visit whenever he actually got a day off. As far as Gladio could figure that was about three times a year, and only when he had no other choice, but he hadn't argued. He'd promised Ignis he wouldn't sneer at the idea, even though the notion of it sounded ridiculous. Gladio already received massages; deep tissue massage was a painful but necessary affair when you worked out the way he did, but it wasn't something Gladio considered relaxing.

“If you don't enjoy it, Gladio,” Ignis said, not taking his eyes off the road, “I won't bring you again. I can't say fairer than that.” He flicked an indicator as a turn off approached, and Gladio watched him check his mirrors before slowing down, and again before taking the turn. Iggy was always a conscientious driver. “Just try to keep an open mind, that's all I ask.”

Gladio grumbled again, muttering, “Yeah, yeah.”

Ignis gave a sigh, and no more was said as the car wound its twisting way down the road, and up to a building that looked like some sort of sprawling hotel. “We're here,” Ignis said, selecting a parking spot near the entrance and backing them into it.

Gladio refrained from commenting. The place was fenced in, but the carefully selected and planted trees and bushes were everywhere, and he could hear running water as he got out of the car. He followed Ignis, jamming his hands in his pockets and feeling a little like a child tailing after their parent around a supermarket, or possibly some place of historical interest.

“Mr Scientia!” a female voice called from the reception desk as he and Ignis walked inside. “It's a pleasure to see you again.”

Gladio looked from Ignis to the girl. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, and her face was all full lips and fuller lashes. She was pretty, really pretty, and definitely not the sort of girl that went by Lulubelle and gave lapdances in the Hungry Coeurl on a Saturday night.

“It's good to see you too, Aurora,” Ignis replied, approaching her at the desk. Gladio furrowed his brow. Ignis came here often enough that the receptionist knew him on sight, and he knew her first name?

“You booked for two?” Aurora asked, holding out a clipboard towards Ignis.

Ignis took it, and gestured almost carelessly over his shoulder in Gladio's direction. “This is Gladio,” he said, “he's never been before, so I was hoping this could be an education for him.”

Aurora looked at him, as Ignis took a pen and began to place little marks on the paper he'd been handed. Gladio swallowed, nervously. “Hi,” he said, trying not to sound like an idiot.

She smiled as brightly as the sun, and it was the first time Gladio had ever felt as if he was being sized up by a girl that didn't want to jump his bones. He swallowed, awkwardly. “Hello,” she replied. “Has Ignis explained what services we offer?”

“Massage,” Gladio answered, and fought the urge to shrug his shoulders. “Dunno about anything else.”

Aurora's smile brightened. “Yes, we do massage,” she said. “There's traditional, shiatsu, aromatherapy, hot stone, aquatic, reflexology, cranial, and acupressure. We also offer hand massages in our manicure service, and foot massages in the pedicures.”

Gladio blinked. “That's a lot of massages,” he said, dumbly.

Out of the corner of Gladio's vision he caught Ignis smirking, and handing back his clipboard. “Give me his,” he said.

Aurora smiled as she took Iggy's clipboard from him, and offered him another one out. “Choosing for him?” she asked.

“For his first time,” Ignis agreed.

Aurora gave a nod, turning to a computer terminal. “What about waxing services?”

“For me,” Ignis replied, without looking up as he ticked things off on his new sheet. Gladio took a step closer to read over Iggy's shoulder what he was being signed up for. He saw ticks in boxes next to Hot Stone and Cranial, and watched Ignis put another tick in a box next to Manicure. “Not for him,” Ignis added.

Gladio threw Ignis a sharp look. “You get waxed?” he asked.

Ignis looked up at him and arched one eyebrow above the line of his glasses. “You think my eyebrows stay this pristine of their own accord?” he asked.

Gladio wasn't sure if that reply confused or disappointed him more. “Oh,” he said, although the idea of Ignis getting his brows waxed was weird enough on its own. “I thought you meant,” he trailed off, and gestured with his hand at his own crotch, “you know.”

“Only on special occasions,” Ignis replied.

Gladio stared at the man he'd thought, up until that moment, that he knew. His best friend. Iggy, the workaholic that never took a day off, and didn't have an ounce of chill in him, was stood before him, casually talking about getting his balls waxed as if it was no big deal, and Gladio couldn't for the life of him tell if he was being messed with.

Ignis gave him a flash of smirk, and then handed the clipboard back over to Aurora. She took it, graciously, and then said, “We reserved your usual room.”

“Thank you,” Ignis replied.

There was a little paperwork, then. Things to sign, and questions about musical tastes, and known allergies. Gladio had no allergies that he knew about, and he had to sign a disclaimer to that effect. By the time that was done another pretty woman in a white dress uniform had approached, and Gladio found himself being offered a drink, and escorted away from Ignis.

“Just try and enjoy the experience,” Ignis advised, as a glass of Altissian red was placed in his hand.

Gladio was given a beer, and watched as Ignis was led in another direction by a different pretty woman in white. The room Gladio got taken to was clean, and peaceful, and smelled faintly of lavender. “”If you could remove your clothes?” the woman, with red lipstick and blonde hair, said to him.

“All of them?” Gladio asked. He'd never been nervous about undressing for a woman before, but here and now, not really knowing what exactly Ignis had signed him up for, or what was about to happen to him next, he was.

The woman smiled at him, the same bright smile that Aurora had given him, and subtly different, he realised, from the smile she'd given Iggy. This one was a work smile, not greeting a regular you like smile. “You can keep your underwear on,” she said, “if you wish. Many of our clients don't. When you're done, lie on the table.”

Gladio wanted to ask if Iggy kept his underwear on, the thought of Ignis getting his bits waxed refusing to leave him. His eyebrows, sure, Gladio could see it. It was weird, but Iggy's eyebrows were thin and perfectly shaped, not the big broad caterpillars Gladio sported. Trying to imagine Iggy with untidy eyebrows wasn't working for him, but maybe that was just because Iggy was always so put together.

Maybe he came to a place like this to stay that way? He'd said this was how he relaxed, although Gladio didn't see what could be relaxing about having your hair ripped out. Maybe Iggy found it relaxing to let someone else do the work of keeping him looking put together. Hell, maybe getting his brows waxed saved him five minutes in the mornings, or whatever. It was an extra five minutes in which to down a can of Ebony, knowing Iggy, but he probably wouldn't turn it down.

He stripped down to his underwear once the woman left, taking his time to finish his beer and poke around the room out of idle curiosity. There was a music player, and a metric shitload of towels. One whole wall was nothing but glass, showing a nice, if carefully cultivated, garden with a winding stream.

Gladio lay on the table after poking around, and waited. Once he'd hit the point where he was starting to get bored, a door opened, and a tall, lean man walked in, pushing a covered trolley. “Mr Amicitia?” he asked.

Gladio inwardly cringed. “Only my dad gets called that,” he replied. “I prefer Gladio.”

The man gave a nod. “If you could lie on your front, and we'll begin. Do you know what a hot stone massage involves?”

Gladio looked at the trolley, and found he really had no idea. “Not really,” he admitted.

He got one of those smiles again. “First there's a few minutes of traditional massage, and then we'll continue while I'm holding a stone. I'll place stones on you, in points that I think you need them. If you don't like it, tell me, and I can remove them and we'll leave this as a traditional massage. Is that okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Gladio decided.

“My name's Otium,” the masseur said. “I promise you're in good hands.”

Gladio had his reservations about that, but he turned onto his front, and tried to relax. Music started playing, something soft, and choral, and Gladio listened to the sounds of Otium setting up his station. A towel got draped across Gladio's ass, even though he was still wearing his tight black boxers, and then warm hands found his shoulders.

At first Gladio was tense, expecting it to hurt like the sports massages he usually got did, but although the pressure was insistent, it didn't cross the threshold into painful, and Gladio started to relax. He was just starting to see how Iggy might enjoy this kind of thing when Otium pressed a hot rock against his shoulder and used that to work the muscle.

The sensation was some weird combination of taking a hot bath the day after a solid work out, and the soothing press of hands against his skin. Gladio groaned, quietly.

“Is that all right?” Otium asked, slowing his movements a little.

“Yeah,” Gladio answered.

All right, Iggy, he thought, he'd give him this one. The massage wasn't bad at all. Even though it was weird lying there with rocks placed on his back, it was oddly relaxing. Even when he rolled over, and the treatment was continued on his chest and stomach, stones tucked into his palms.

Gladio realised he'd missed the end of it when a hand gently shook his shoulder. “Gladio?” Otium called.

Gladio opened his eyes, feeling warm and comfortable enough that he was expecting to wake up in his own bed. “Sorry,” he said, as reality dawned.

Otium shook his head, laughing a little. “We're done,” he said. “If you'd like to put on a robe, one of the girls will take you to the hand and cranial spa.”

Gladio blinked, realising he had no idea how much time had passed. He didn't know where his clothes had gone, either, not that it seemed to matter much as he slipped into a white robe that was just that bit too small for his frame.

One of the girls, and he wasn't sure if it was the same blonde with red lipstick as before or not, came to collect him, offering him another drink as she led him to a different room. There were multiple seats in this one, although it was the same view over the cultivated gardens as before, and this time he saw Ignis, lounging in a corner while someone attended to his hand.

“How was your massage?” he asked, as Gladio was shepherded into the seat next to him.

“I think I fell asleep,” Gladio replied, looking Ignis over. He was in the same white robe as Gladio, although Iggy's fit better. His hair was combed back off his face, and damp, as if he'd been in water, and he had a blissed out look on his face that Gladio honestly hadn't seen before. “Where were you?”

“Sensory deprivation,” Ignis answered. “A dark floatation tank, insulated against sound,” he supplied, glancing at Gladio as Gladio finally took a seat. “A half hour of nothing but myself and my own thoughts,” he said.

Gladio wasn't sure if that sounded terrifying or relaxing. “Fun?” he asked.

“Intense,” Ignis answered, and flashed him a smile. “Everything seems so much sharper when you leave, it's almost overwhelming.”

“You look chilled,” Gladio said, as a girl came over and brought him another beer.

Ignis smiled, softly. “That is thanks to Lenis, here,” he said, giving a slight nod towards the girl that was perched at his hand, carefully working her fingers over his knuckles. “She's a wonder with a manicure.”

Gladio grumbled. He'd seen that Ignis had signed him up for that as well. “Might skip that bit,” he said. “Don't think I could face Iris if I had to borrow her nail polish remover, y'know?”

Ignis shook his head softly, and Gladio caught the roll of his eyes. “You don't have them painted,” he said, “just filed and moisturised.”

Gladio grinned a little. “Doesn't seem like a proper manicure if they're not painted,” he teased.

It was worth it to see the bright flash of teeth from Iggy as he teased back, “Well, I have always thought pink would suit you.”

Gladio kept his grin in place, agreeing, “Maybe I'll be bold.”

A woman came up to him, this one with brown hair, and dark brown eyes, and asked, “Gladio?”

Gladio looked up at her. “Yeah?” he asked, wondering if he was about to eat his words on the bold front. He definitely wasn't having his nails painted. Not here, anyway. He'd let Iris paint them for him when she was eight, and he'd ended up having to glare down a guy that had tried to call him a pussy for it when he hadn't managed to chip it all off again two days later. He didn't fancy having to beat Noct's ass for the inevitable sniggering.

Nor did he really want to tell Noct where he'd been this weekend. Something about this felt weirdly private, like it was his and Iggy's secret. This was Iggy's retreat, he realised. This was where the guy came to escape all the pressures of work, and looking after Noct, and the weight of the world resting on that big brain of his. He'd chosen to let Gladio in on it, to see it and experience it, despite knowing that Gladio had thought it was stupid.

“I'm here to do your cranial massage,” she said.

Gladio smiled at her. “No problem,” he answered.

Ignis rested back in his chair, giving a satisfied little hum of pleasure, and when fingers ran through Gladio's hair and kneaded gently at his scalp, Gladio echoed the sound. “Hey, Iggy?” he asked, closing his eyes. His only response was a soft murmur from Ignis, that sounded as blissed out as he'd looked. “Thanks for opening my mind.”

“You're quite welcome,” Ignis replied.