#anticipate getting much done. but damn girl i am truly almost finished like i got one more day. sitting right at around 100k words. insane

[gentlethorns]

holy fuck. i'm on my last scene

[mellowyandere]

You’re Ours to Protect

Had a weird dream last night. Thought you might enjoy it. 

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)

Summary: Your time as an anti-hero might finally be coming to an end. With three pros on your tail it’s a miracle this didn't happen sooner. (Reader has a quirk but it’s not very important to the smut.)

Length: 4.5 K (I have come to the conclusion that I am incapable of writing below 4 K)

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, slight bondage/restraints, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal fingering, anal sex, M/M/F, mostly clothed male, naked reader, slight cum swallowing, Eraserhead and Present Mic are in an established relationship in this fic. 

Hands were on your body, hands that shouldn’t be there. Your mind was stuck in a fog, your limbs so heavy you could barely move them. What was going on? You strained to remember, thinking long and hard about what might have led you here as calloused fingers blazed trails along your exposed thighs. You managed to wiggle your limbs a bit, shaking off the haze that muddled your brain.

You groaned, trying to open your eyes so you can get a better understanding of your surroundings. Your hands were restrained behind your back but it seemed your legs were free. You'd murder who ever had their fucking hands on you. As your eyes adjusted to the light you couldn't help but groan again as the figure in front of you came into view. You tried and failed to subtly use your quirk, this didn’t look good.

“Eraserhead. Didn’t realize you were still wasting your time looking for me. Not my fault I beat you to that criminal. Hero’s leaving trash like him alive is such a stupid concept. He was a murderer you know.” 

You looked around to the best of your ability as you spoke, you were sitting on a plush dark green couch in what appeared to be a relatively empty basement. You had been stripped of your gear, leaving you in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Two men were flanking you on the couch. The one to your left you didn't recognize. He was ridiculously tall, as well as skinny. Blond hair a mess as two long bangs hid his eyes from view. To your right was a pro you did recognize. His emerald green eyes sparkled in delight behind his civilian glasses as he grinned down at you. So it was their hands on your body currently. They’d die first then. 

“So, what does that make you?” the dark haired pro murmured, leaning forwards and somewhat regaining your attention. 

You ignored his question, opting to look about some more. There wasn't a one-way mirror or any recording device in sight. Were they interrogating you off the books? This whole situation seemed off, these were heroes right? They’d convict you and leave you to rot in a dingy jail cell somewhere.. but this didn't look like a normal interrogation room. 

“I know this is my first time getting caught and all but this doesn’t really seem up to protocol. Gonna haul me away after having fun or something?” You shifted your gaze to the obsidian eyes in front of you, leaning forwards to mimic his posture. 

Present Mic barked out a laugh, hand squeezing harder on you thigh much to your annoyance. “Sorry babe but prison won’t be your final destination! I mean after all y’aint evil, just a lil misguided is all, nothin’ three pros can’t fix.” He ended his sentence with a pinch to your leg. 

“If you don’t get your fucking hands off me I’ll kill you!” You snarled, turning and getting up in Present Mic’s face. The tall blond to your left pulled his hands back, scooting away as Present Mic continued to leer down at you. 

“HAH little girls got some bite, but we already knew that. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to use that quirk. I’m hurt now! You really would try to kill me huh?” he mocked with a fake pout, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. 

“I’m sure you’ve already realized by now you can’t use your quirk. It wasn’t easy making a device to cancel it out, but thanks to our newest colleague here the hardest part was collecting your DNA and picking what color collar we wanted.” Eraserhead leaned forward, fingers tugging on the collar you only now just realized was around your neck.

You tried to bite him, but he pulled back. If only you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face with a heart attack. Your quirk was the ability to clot blood after all. A handy trick if you found yourself injured, but even more so for killing once you learned how to properly control it. No one really batted an eye at an ischemic stroke due to the clotting of an artery to the brain. Well.. almost nobody.. 

“You have a very impressive ability,” the tall blond stated, “in all honesty we probably wouldn’t have caught on if we hadn’t watched you kill. You’ve induced countless of natural looking deaths, but upon closer inspection you target people whose crimes would have landed them in jail. Noble, but very misguided. You’re pretty reckless though, what if you had gotten hurt?” 

“So fucking what if I did.” You kept your eyes glued to Present Mic as you responded, trusting him a lot less than the man behind you. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your snarky rebuttal.

“Language young lady, and that’s no way to talk! What would compel you to risk your life, why don’t you trust your hero’s more?” 

You clenched your teeth in frustration but didn’t respond. You were done cooperating, not like you were doing much to begin with though.

The scrapping of a metal chair on concrete drew your gaze as Eraserhead stood up. 

“Back up Zashi, I’ll take over from here. Toshinori you’re fine where you are.” 

You couldn’t help but struggle a bit at his words. “What do you mean, what the hell are you going to do!? You insane or something? Just turn me in to the police!”

“You really don't pay attention do you. Hizashi already said you’re not going to the police. I don’t know what skeletons you have in your closet, or why you started killing people, but that will come out in due time. For now you don’t have to kill anymore. The three of us will take care of you, without the law sentencing you to life. We’ve been hunting you down for so long. We’ve been very patient, but right now you need us to help show you what you’ve been missing. Running around all by yourself, you must have been so lonely.” Eraserhead finished up his little spiel as he stalked forwards, looming over your sitting frame. 

“Don’t fucking TOUC-gah!” You had been so focused on Eraserhead’s approach you hadn’t noticed Present Mic coming at you with a gag until it was too late. 

“Yagi already asked you to watch that dirty mouth of yours, don’t worry though babe once you simmer down a bit we’ll take it out.”

“Ple-please Hizashi call me Toshinori we’ve been over this.”

You gave Eraserhead your best glare as he stopped in front of you. He smiled softly at your defiance before wedging his knee in between your legs and slamming his hands onto the couch, caging you in. Wait by show you what you were missing.. these hero's were going to..?

You tried to talk reason, but all that came out were muffled pleas. None of it coherent. 

“We’ve been watching over you for 5 months now kitten. Trying to find the best way to approach you but in the end taking you somewhere safe seemed to be the only logical solution. While getting this house ready for your arrival we all started to feel as if you belonged here all along. I know it’s not fair, we’ve had so much longer to get to know you, but you’ll know us just as well soon enough.”

It was official. These pros had lost their damn minds. They actually figured out how to justify what they were about to do to you. Your promise to only kill criminals was really coming back to bite you on the ass. 

You brought your legs up and tried to kick him off, but were quickly thwarted by two pairs of hands grabbing them and pinning you down. 

“Now now sweetheart none of that, Shouta here is just going to show you our conviction. No one will ever hurt you again now that we are here. Now that I am here” The last part was mumbled more to himself than the group. 

Something must have happened to these men to cause their hero complex to grow into something so twisted. But that was no fucking excuse for their actions. They needed therapy, not someone to play damsel in distress with.

Shouta lowered himself between your legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you. You tried to plead with your eyes, beg him to stop, but he met your gaze with something bordering love. That wasn’t good. Breaking eye contact he looked down at your underwear, bringing a hand up you held your breath as he gently brushed against your core. 

“You can’t even begin to imagine how much I’ve dreamed of this moment. You truly are something special, and yet you treat your life with such little regard it’s maddening.” He trailed his knuckles against the thin fabric as he spoke, your traitorous body sparking heat in your lower abdomen in anticipation. 

Pulling your underwear to the side he slowly began to slide his fingers up and down your progressively wetting folds. 

“Well now, someone secretly enjoyin’ themselves baby,” Hizashi all but purred, his hand squeezing your flesh while his gaze was transfixed on where his partner was violating you. You couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whine. It was absolutely humiliating being spread out before these three men. 

The noises your wet cunt were making were no help to your embarrassment, and they only got worse once the dark haired pro rid you of your last line of defense and began to insert two of his fingers. 

“H-how does she feel?” Toshinori couldn’t help but ask. His face was flushed red, along with the tips of his ears as his vibrant blue eyes watched Shouta’s fingers slowly sink inside you. 

“Tight, shit she’s tight. She’s perfect, so fucking wet for her hero's. I’ll work you open kitten don’t worry.” You couldn’t help but clamp down on his fingers at his words, earning a deep chuckle in response. 

“See now, such a good girl aren’t you. Prison is no place for you kitten, though if you want we can always role-play your wardens.”

Role-play my ass we’re already living it, was all you could think bitterly. 

As if he read your mind Shouta couldn’t help but continue to antagonize you, thumb beginning to make light circles against your clit as he pumped his fingers, adding a third and quickly burying them knuckle deep. Soft whimpers slipped from your mouth as you tried in vain to wiggle away from Eraserhead’s deft fingers. 

Hizashi was getting impatient, removing one of his hands to grasp your breast through the t-shirt you had on. His slim fingers began to pinch and rub your nipple, though his eyes never left your cunt. 

Toshinori was struggling in his own way. Raspy breaths with slight coughs as he grew more and more aroused. He too removed a hand from your leg, but instead made quick work of the zipper on his pants. Taking his semi hard cock in his hand he began gently stroke himself while watching your display. 

You truly were everything they had ever wanted. But you didn’t want this, despite your bodies responses to their ministrations. You could feel it, Shouta seemed to know exactly where to stroke as he worked you up tighter and tighter, velvety walls clamping down at your approaching climax. 

You found each man murmuring their own words of praise, anywhere from “That’s it baby girl, take all of Sho now,” to “Such a perfect princess, do you want to finish?” The man between your legs even adding to the mantra of soft words spoken to you. “So close kitten, see what good girls get. You’re going to cum for me okay?” 

He posed it like a question but you knew it was far from it. It was a statement, a matter of fact statement that you couldn’t deny even if you had tried. Your back arched, moans and mewls intercepted but not completely blocked out by your gag as you rocked against his hand. He gladly continued to finger you, watching as you came down from your high and only then removed his hand. 

You were panting hard, shame quickly washing away the pleasure from your orgasm. Sensing the shift in your demeanor Hizashi was quick to pounce, peppering your face in kisses despite your shifty protests and groans of despair. “None of that now babe, after all we’re just gettin’ this show started!” 

Shouta stood and moved out from between your legs, licking some of your slick off his hand before he wiped the rest on his black pants leg. “You got lube Zashi?” Hizashi paused his attack and shot the dark haired pro a million dollar smile. “You bet our babes cute ass I got it! Lemme find it, hold her Toshi.”

Toshinori floundered a bit, cock in hand as Hizashi shoved you closer to him, before jumping up from the couch. Eyes trailing down to his hand you couldn’t help but freeze in shock. Not only was this man stupid tall, his dick was frighteningly large. The older hero noticed your stare and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at your expression. “Don’t worry princess, Shouta and Hizashi are going to help you today. My sides acting up so I’ll only be watching.” 

As if on cue the man was hit by a coughing fit, and much to your surprise he even coughed up some blood. Eraserhead was still looming over you, leaning over he gently rubbed the older blonds back as he tried to ease him through the pain. You didn’t dare move as all this transpired around you. What good would it have done you anyways? You were effectively quirkiness, and your fighting skills would be severely lacking against the two heroes you knew. You had no idea who this Toshinori guy was, but if he was close to Eraserhead and Present Mic you doubted he was weak. 

You heard Hizashi rummaging behind you through a dresser you hadn’t noticed earlier. Craning your neck, you peered over and cried out in frustration. 

“Tada!” He sung triumphantly, a small bottle of lube in his hand. “Act two can now officially begin!” You could only yell and wiggle about in protest, your arms still tied behind your back. Toshinori’s hand on your thigh moved to gently pat you on the head. 

“Behave now for them okay? If you’re good we can show you the rest of our home after this.” 

You jerked your head out from under his hand and yelled more incoherent nonsense out of frustration. You had expected anger to replace the adoring look in his eyes but you were only met with fond amusement. 

He stood up with a hearty laugh, erection still in hand as he grabbed Shouta’s discarded chair, sitting down facing the couch. Shouta was quick to take Toshinori’s place on the couch while Hizashi took up residence behind you. 

“I have a feelin’ this star ain’t a fan of the spotlight, no need to be camera shy babe.” You watched Shouta roll his eyes at his partner in crime before he began to manhandle you. Hands under your armpits he pulled you up and wrangled you onto your knees facing him on the couch. 

Hizashi slid one knee between your legs so you couldn't close them. Your tied hands couldn’t help but brush up against his clothed hard on, causing him to rut against you a bit in anticipation. 

Without warning he took a solid grip of your t-shirt and ripped it off. You squeaked in surprise, your face heating up as you realized you were the only person fully naked in the room. 

“Was it really necessary to rip my shirt?”

“Sorry about that Toshi! Didn’t want to delay the show with takin’ off her bindings yah dig? You rip them a bunch anyways so what’s another to the pile? But ain’t this just so much better, our baby girl on full display it makes my heart swoon!”

“Just get her ready Hizashi, and no rushing it, you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Aight aight sorry I’ll get to work, you keep her happy.”

Both men moved closer, pressing your body between them. They had propped themselves up on their knees and had you effectively stuck. Shouta gently placed one hand around your neck, giving your collar a tug, while the other trailed down and began to gently work your still wet pussy. 

You stared into his chest, trying your best to space out but jerked back to reality when you heard the pop of a lid behind you. 

“Don’t worry babe I’ll get you ready, I’m somewhat of a pro yah know?” 

That was when you felt his lubed finger gently prodding your other hole. You jolted forwards into Shouta who didn’t even budge in response to your full body weight. Hizashi simply shuffled closer, continuing to push until finally he breached you. You whimpered at the uncomfortable intrusion. 

Shouta's fingers lazily worked your cunt as he rocked his erection against your lower abdomen. Despite the fact that you hated the feeling of his growing arousal you couldn’t help but lean into him to try and get away from Hizashi as he slipped another finger inside. Tears slowly rolled down your face in frustration as the two heroes prepared your body. 

“There we go kitten, you’re doing so well. Just be patient alright and it won’t hurt so bad.” Shouta removed his hand from around your neck and placed it on your head, angling your gaze to the third member of the group you had almost forgotten while pulling you flush to his clothed chest so you couldn’t freely change your field of view. 

Toshinori was leaned back in the metal folding chair, which looked comically small with him sitting on it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he stroked his thick cock. His own pre-cum and spit adding obscene noises to his ministrations. He gave you a lopsided smile as you made eye contact, causing you to quirky avert your gaze. 

By this point Hizashi had worked three fingers knuckle deep into your tight hole, but coupled with Shouta’s work the line between uncomfortable and pleasurable began to mix together. A breathless moan escaped you as the two pros finally got their desired reaction. 

“She’s as good as she’s gonna get Sho, let’s say you and me start the finale I can’t take feelin’ her tight lil hole clamping down on my fingers any longer. Not when I got somethin’ much better for her.”

Your tears flowed a bit faster at your impending fate. This was fucking insane! You might have been a murderer, but you weren't expected to be a good person unlike these men. These heroes who were now violating you.

Since Shouta was in black sweatpants he merely leaned back a bit and pulled them down, cock springing free. He had a solid girth to him, red tip dripping pre down his shaft to his unruly black pubic hair. You heard a zipper behind you as the blond freed himself, though due to being squashed between the two you had no idea what to prepare for. 

Hizashi hummed in contemplation at your tied hands, currently in the way of his objective. “Bonds might have to go Sho, you get her hands?” The sleepy hero merely nodded grasping your wrists as Hizashi swiftly untied them. 

“Ready now primadonna?”

“Ha ha you’re soo funny Sho... but yes, shit, I’m fucking ready.”

You kept quiet this time, head pressed against Shouta’s chest as you listened to his rapidly beating heart. You gave one last pleading look to the lean blond watching intently from the sideline, but all he did was shrug his shoulders with a small smile on his face. 

“You’re going to do great princess don’t worry.” 

You felt the tips of each man at their respective entrance, Shouta's teasing your soaking cunt while Hizashi lightly probed your lubed ass. You closed your eyes and accepted defeat. They gently began to rut their hips, cocks sinking deeper with each thrust. You felt uncomfortably full as they breached you. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck I can feel you through her.” The blond quickly grabbed your breasts, tweaking your nipples like he had earlier. 

“Easy does it kitten, we got you,” Shouta groaned out. 

You weren’t a fan of Hizashi behind you, rocking forward into Shouta as they continued to fuck into you. He squeezed down on your wrists in warning, hot breath fanning the top of your head. It didn’t take much longer before they both had finally bottomed out. You groaned in distress while they groaned in bliss. 

“I’ve got her wrists you help her out alright, and take it easy.”

“Sheesh I heard yah the first time, I’ll help our lil girl out.”

Hizashi snaked a hand in between you and Shouta, finding your clit. 

They both continued fucking into you, Hizashi matching Shouta’s pace as they stimulated your body. You were angry, humiliated, and yet somehow you were so turned on it was embarrassing. You should be thrashing about, snarling into your gag, but instead all you could do was rock your body to their salacious tempo. 

Peeking your eyes open at a particularly hard thrust from Hizashi you saw Toshinori on the edge of the chair. You could just barely make out his raspy breaths and small moans over Shouta and Hizashi’s groaning. His brilliant blue eyes bore into your own. One of his hands worked his long shaft while the other was death gripping his clothed thigh. It almost looked as if steam was pouring off of him. Was he always that muscular?

You didn’t have long to contemplate Toshinori though, with a pinch to your clit Hizashi made sure to regain your attention. He had picked up his pace, throwing Shouta a bit off balance. He leaned down sucking and biting at your neck while rolling your perky nipple. Shouta felt your velvety walls clamp down around his cock, picking up his tempo to match Hizashi’s.

By now you were a mess. Traitorous moans fumbling from your mouth as the two heroes played your body. They had picked up an alternating tempo, never leaving you without a cock inside your body. The pleasure had you throwing your head back, leaving your neck exposed and making room for Shouta to join Hizashi in leaving little claiming bites all along your delicate skin. 

“She’s getting close Hizashi, we’re gonna fuck her through it alright?”

The blond pro behind you only moaned out something that sounded vaguely affirmative, eager to feel your tight walls clamp down on him. 

You were beyond fighting them, on the brink of orgasm all it took was one pointed thrust from Shouta to have you crumbling apart. You pushed back into Hizashi’s chest, his t-shirt sticking to your sweat soaked skin as you clamped down on both of them. Hizashi moaned into your neck, his quirk picking up a bit as he lost his composure. Shouta had released your hands, ripping off your gag so he could grab your face and crash his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his shirt to stabilize yourself. 

As stated they continued fucking into you, dragging out your orgasm as your walls spasmed around them. Shouta’s tongue delved into your mouth, his own deep moans rumbling into you. 

“Go-gonna fuckin’ cum Sho, n- not much longer.”

In response Eraserhead reached behind you, grabbing a fist full of the blonds hair and giving it a firm tug which was enough to push him over the edge. 

“Sh-shit,” he wheezed, hips stilling as his cum filled your sore ass. “You fu- you fucking dirty cheater makin’ me finish first like that.” In kind Hizashi grabbed some of Shouta’s hair, pulling his mouth away from yours and up to his own. 

“Go ahead and cum in her Sho you know you want to,” Hizashi taunted between kisses. The familiar sound of metal against concrete drew your gaze as the all too familiar symbol of peace stood at his full height. Holy fucking shit it was All Might. 

The two pros ignored his approach, Shouta’s hips becoming a bit more deranged as he fucked into you. All Might reached in between the two and gripped your lower jaw, dazzling smile almost blinding you.

“Be a good girl now and open for me, you don’t have to swallow it all but I’d appreciate the effort.” He didn’t leave you with much of a choice finding it impossible to close your mouth with his grip, which at this point was very sore from the gag. The tip of his large member gently brushed against your lips as he shuttered at the feeling of your soft flesh. 

By this point Shouta was thrusting aggressively against your battered cervix, mouth locked with Hizahi’s as he finally reached his own release. His hips stuttered as warmth filled your cunt. 

Now all that was left was All Might. Your jaw strained to accommodate him, but he seemed to be more than aware of your limitations. He simply pushed the tip in, one hand stroking his shaft while the other gently pet your head. 

“So pretty,” he cooed down at you. “Just like that princess, I’m gonna cum now okay?” 

You simply kept your mouth open, tongue flat against the underside of his still cock as his cum filled your mouth. The bitter taste made you sputter, cum running down your chin as more took its place. After a couple more spurts he gently pulled away, some of the bitter substance sliding down your throat while the majority ended up down your chin and onto the couch below. 

All four of you were panting, frozen in time until finally All Might disappeared in a large cloud of smoke. The man you had originally believed to be some unknown hero named Toshinori now stood in his place, shyly looking down at you. 

“I guess that’s one way to show her huh big guy.” Hizashi jested. 

“I-I know probably not the most ideal but I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured a bit embarrassed. 

Hizashi and Shouta pulled out, their cum immediately running down your legs causing you to cringe a bit at the sensation. 

“You guys.. fucking suck.” was all you could think of at the moment. You waited for the rage, for them to berate or attack you, but instead all that met you was a chorus of soft chuckles.

“Figured you wouldn’t be easy to convince kitten, but don’t worry. Between the three of us you’ll come around.” 

These three men must have some thick fucking skulls to dismiss you so casually, that or their obsession was a lot deeper than you could even begin to comprehend. 

“Some fucking heroes you are,” you grumbled lowly.

“Some fuckin’ heroes we are indeed cutie! HAH get it? Cause we just fucked yah?” Hizashi laughed at his own joke while Toshinori and Shouta groaned. 

“Alright don’t make me gag you next, let’s just get everybody upstairs and clean up. We’ll do the house tour later kitten, for now we’ll just show you to your room.” 

[reidscanehand]

The One Where Penelope Finds Out

Episode 2 of The One Where Everyone Finds Out

Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader

And for this episode... a little highly implied Morcia action because I love it, oh so dearly. She is his God-given solace, after all. 

Category: Fluff. So very fluffy.

TW: mentions of Maeve’s death, mentions of vague crimes by typical unsubs of CM, slight sexual tension, and overwhelming amounts of fluff

Hello again! I am so overwhelmingly thankful for the incredibly response to yesterday’s installment! You guys are so wonderful and lovely; thank you so much! I am back with part 2 and we are onto Miss Penelope Garcia, the absolute Queen of My Life. I hope you enjoy this part and thank you so much for the support and love yesterday! 

Love you all to bits xx 

It’s a week after the team has come back from North Dakota and Penelope Garcia is frustrated. And she hates being frustrated. And the only thing she truly hates more than frustration is giving emotional space to negative emotions of that variety. But she can’t help it this morning, so she bustles from the kitchen to her batcave so irritated at her own frustration that it’s practically boiling off of her. 

“Good morning, princess,” Derek Morgan says as Penelope passes him by, almost not hearing him. 

“Good morning,” she mutters, clutching her herbal tea ever tighter in her hands. She makes it to the doorway of her batcave before a strong arm comes over her shoulder, hitting the door before she can pull it open. 

“Now, princess,” Derek whispers from behind her, gently caressing her shoulder to spin her around to face him. She pouts a little. Derek would know something was off with her. Damn profilers. 

“The last time I said ‘good morning, princess’ and you responded like that, we didn’t talk for almost a day and a half and you got shot by an unsub. So, what’s say we skip over all that drama and you just tell me what’s bugging you, pretty lady?” He cages her into the doorway in a way that makes her positively melt. Her smile makes him smile and he presses a kiss into her forehead. “There’s my girl! Now, tell me, what’s got your pretty panties in a twist?” 

“If you must know,” she whispers, trying to school the silly grin Derek’s presence elicits, “it’s Reid.” 

“Pretty Boy? What did the skinny legend do to you, Baby Girl?” He places his arms on her shoulders, running his fingers through the ends of her curled blond hair to calm her down. 

“He didn’t do anything to me, Chocolate Thunder,” she amends, “he hasn’t done anything at all, actually. That’s part of the problem.”

Derek cocks an eyebrow at her and Penelope sighs, eyeing Spencer’s desk where he’s looking through files and sipping at a cup of coffee. She indicates with her chin and Derek allows himself to be pulled into her office. She sits in her chair, settling the too hot tea next to her computer as Derek leans against one of the other desks, staring her down with as much eager anticipation as she was going to get from him this early in the morning. 

“I set 187 up on a date with Claudia-”

“Your new neighbor?” Derek asks, looking at her questioningly. “The one with the cats?”

“Hey, now,” she admonishes, “she’s nice. And, if anything, I thought it might just get him back into the groove of things after…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

“It’s almost been a year,” Derek continues, somewhat awkwardly. “Surely, Pretty Boy-”

“See,” Penelope lights up again, “that’s what I thought!” She rolls her desk chair until she’s nearly touching Derek. “But he won’t go out with her! I feel terrible because I already told Claudia about him and she seems really into it. But also...never mind, it’s stupid.” 

Derek squats in front of her rolling chair, pulling it by the armrests until her knees touch his chest in his kneeled position, “There is nothing stupid about wanting to help your friend, Baby Girl. He just needs time, you know that.”

“How much time?” Penelope whines softly, her brow furrowing adorably as she pouts. He smiles at her and leans forward, just managing to stretch far enough from the ground to kiss the furrows out of her forehead. 

“Well, clearly more than we thought,” Derek replies. He jumps up from his position and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “But, right now you and I both need to get to work, okay? And how about we go out for dinner tonight?” 

“Thai food?” she whispers, still a tad whiny. She just wants Reid to be happy. He’s been...more himself recently, but she knows that he’s got to be lonely at the very least. And she can’t stand the fact that one of her best friends in the entire world is living such a lonely existence. 

“Anything you want, sugar,” Derek whispers, pressing another quick kiss into her hair before leaving her office. Penelope sighs deeply, rolling back over to her slightly cooled tea. She takes a sip and grimaces. She forgot the agave nectar. With another overly dramatic sigh, she rises from her chair once again, shuffling her way to her office. Derek makes eye contact with her as she exits her office, jokingly narrowing his eyes towards her until she straightens her shoulders and gives him a soft smile. He laughs to himself before returning back to his work. 

Doing her best to maintain the smile on her face, Penelope continues her way to the kitchen. She hadn’t realized that both you and Spencer weren’t sitting at your desks until she nears the doorway to the kitchen.

“You smell different,” Reid’s voice says. And then she hears your laughter. There’s something about the tone of your laughter that stops her in her tracks. Something that tells her she isn’t meant to be a part of this conversation. She shoots back, flattening herself against the wall. She leans in when you start speaking.

“That’s a really weird way to tell me to put on deodorant, Spence,” your voice wafts jokingly from the kitchen. 

“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” Spencer’s voice sputters. 

You giggle again, continuing with the same airily joking tone, “What else am I supposed to think when you greet me by saying, ‘you smell different’? No ‘good morning’, no ‘how are you today’-” 

“I didn’t say you smelled bad!” Spencer’s voice exclaims, and Penelope can practically feel him blushing. “Just different. Y-you...you never smell bad, Y/N.” 

“Since when do you notice what I smell like?” you ask, the teasing in your voice fairly obvious to Penelope, though she fears for Spencer’s end of this conversation, knowing that he’ll struggle to pick up on that particular social cue. 

“I-I notice...I notice lots of things about you, Y/N,” Spencer replies quietly, sighing slightly. Penelope feels like the wind has been knocked out of her lungs. No wonder he didn’t want to be set up on a date! It’s quiet for a moment and Penelope holds her breath. Please be nice to him, she silently prays, hoping you get the message. As far as she’s been able to tell since you joined the team, you’re genuinely quite nice, but she also knows that, even though she loves him, Spencer’s awkwardness is a whole language within itself. 

“Well, that’s good to hear,” you whisper, almost too softly for Penelope to hear. 

“Really?” Spencer breathes, the hope painfully apparent in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you reply, still quiet. “Because I notice lots of things about you, too.” 

Her curiosity gets the better of her then and she comes out of hiding, almost missing Spencer quickly retracting his hand from where he’s just gently pushed your hair over your ear. Penelope’s so excited that she almost can’t speak, but then she sees it: neither of you know. She’s not even a profiler and it’s so obvious; the room practically reeks of it. You two love each other. A little bit, at least. A lot if she’s right, and she’s very sure she is. She can’t believe neither of you know. It’s so apparent it’s practically slapping her in the face. She realizes she still hasn’t spoken when she notices Spencer’s cheeks growing, if possible, even pinker. 

“Good morning,” Penelope cries, a little too loudly to be subtle. The jolting loudness seems to make you both even more self-conscious as you both try to inconspicuously step away from each other. 

“Good morning,” you say, turning away from Spencer to reach up for a coffee cup. Penelope eyes Spencer for a moment, wondering if he’ll say anything, but he drops his head, hands in his pockets as he leans against the opposite counter, eyes staring resolutely at the floor. 

“I forgot my agave nectar for my tea,” Penelope says, shuffling in between the two of you. She does catch a whiff of the scent Spencer mentioned. As he’d already stated, you always smell good, but there’s definitely something different. And, unlike Spencer, apparently, she knows exactly what it is. “Y/N, my sweet angel, you smell so good; is that tea tree oil I smell?” Out of the corner of her eye, Penelope can see Spencer’s head snap up, all attention focused on you.

“Oh, thank you, Penelope. And yes, I’ve started to use it as-”

“Hand sanitizer,” Spencer interrupts, oh so quietly. The tension is back, so strong that Penelope is still floored that neither of you seem to be able to feel it. 

“Yeah,” you reply, not meeting his eyes. “You, uh...we were talking about how I didn’t want to...um buy hand sanitizer anymore...I wanted something more natural and...you suggested-”

“Tea tree oil,” Spencer rasps. “I can’t believe you took my suggestion.”

“It was a really good one,” you swallow, finally looking at him. “Why wouldn’t I take the advice of a genius?” 

If it wasn’t so incredibly sweet, the dramatic nature of your responses to each other (over hand sanitizer of all things) could almost be funny. But the smile threatening Penelope’s mouth isn’t because of the underlying comedy of this situation. It’s because the smile on Spencer’s face is bigger than she’s ever seen it. It’s because the grin that glows from you is just as fervent. It’s because Spencer’s awkwardness might be a language all its own, but your penchant for language seems to extend to that as well. It’s because you are in love with each other...and it’s very apparent that, somehow, neither of you know. Is this how profilers feel all the time? Knowing something deeply personal about someone without them telling you? Something they don’t even know? Penelope lets her mind wander as you excuse yourself, taking your coffee to your desk. She looks up at Spencer, whose eyes are following you to your desk and who is, she’s sure, fully unaware of just how huge his smile is right now. She allows the spoon stirring her tea to knock against the sides of the mug, bringing him back to earth without embarrassing him.

“Hey, Garcia,” he says, addressing her for the first time this morning. 

“Yeah, 187?” she replies, putting her tea spoon in the sink. 

“Um, I’m sorry about...uh, not letting you set me up with your n-neighbor,” he mumbles, barely able to make eye contact with her. “I know...I know that you just want to help me, but I-” She interrupts him by grabbing his upper arm and squeezing gently. 

“Don’t worry about it, Junior G-Man,” she teases. “I have a feeling you’ll be just fine.” Penelope doesn’t even try to control the huge smile that grows on her face as she leaves the kitchen, fully ignoring the confused look she knows he’s shooting her. Because even though he doesn’t know it, Penelope knows he’s going to be okay. Because Spencer is in love with you.

~~~

Taglist:  @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @cielo1984 @rainsong01 @jhillio @pessimystic-fangirl @saspencereid @takeyourleap-of-faith @andreasworlsboring101 @avidreider @saays-bitch @waddlenut @nighttimerain123 @meowimari @aizawaxkun @babyspencersslut @no-honey-no @the-hermit @andrewhoezierbyrne @jessicarabbit09 @subhuman-queer​ @ncsls0515​ @liaabsurd​ @sizzlingclamturtlesludge​ @sassiest-politician​ @meowiemari​ @uhuhuh​ @closetedreidstan​ @whatamidoinghp​ @quillanpie​ @spongeshxt​ @spencer-blake-supremacy​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @vgirl-10123​ @peoplejustcanthandlemywierdness​ @stand-tall-pineapple​ @nighttimerain123 @padsfirewhisky​ @ceeellewrites​ @mggsprettygirl​ @drayshadow​ @cal-ifornication​ @theetherealbloom​ @teenwolfgirl90 @eevee0722​ @questionmymentality​ @wintermuteway​  @ellesmythe​ @mac99martin​ @supersouthy​ @obsssedwithjustaboutanything​ @ssa-githae​ @cherrystay​ @calm-and-doctor​ @icedcoffee187​ @devilswaldorf

*If you’d like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!*

Link to My Main Master List

[zarnzarn]

Stolitz fic rec!!

||

I'm going to just drop my favorite stolitz fics here.

They run at night by @wearemisfortune

Blitzo is always moving because when his body stops, his mind races. This almost always leads to a terrible fucking idea.

Tonight is no different—but the result will be.

-lovely angst, lovely climax, and it captures Blitz's line of thinking in a serious tone but in a way still feels authentic to the character. And I'm ALWAYS a sucker for the sheer unconditional trust trope.

Junctures by @sluttycrimehat

To everything, there is a season.

-I still am in complete awe of how the author managed to fit so much in such little time. The bit at the end always fucking gets me, I love it so MUCH.

The last general by @curtailed

It's in a month after, with Stolas spent and lying on his side, that Blitzo finally musters up the courage to tell him.

-Hello??? BEAUTIFUL post-harvest moon fic, wonderful vibes, love how well they know each other in this one, the trust is amazing. Love it.

You got everything that I want by @bipridemoth

Stolas can’t recall a time where “love” wasn’t synonymous with “pain” for him.

With Blitzo, it’s not love. So, there’s no pain. Stolas doesn’t let there be pain, at least not emotionally, the physical pain is something he quite enjoys. When Blitzo leaves after their monthly night together, he doesn’t allow himself to feel pain, only anticipation of the next time. He likes that there’s always a next time, even though that’s because of his active incentive more than anything else. But that’s alright, he doesn’t want Blitzo to come see him without an incentive. He deserves favors in turn for what he’s giving Stolas.

-Stolas angst!!!! The angst really is delicious in this one, with just as nice of a happy ending. Blitz is confident about the relationship, which is Wonderful to read and the "I know where this is going" segment had me in TEARS.

Between fairy tales and realities by @coloringthegreyscale

Blitzo's a complicated imp and Striker and Stolas accept that. But what happens when the two worlds he's made for himself collide together for one night? Well...

-Okay, so yes, this is striker/blitz/stolas, but it's so good. All three of them have a lovely dynamic, managing to work out somehow, with powerful Stolas, wonderful Blitz and a HILARIOUS Striker. Go read the series, it's a lot of fun and has many cute interactions that made me smile.

The look by @seireileafy

Blitz has been noticing a change in Stolas.

-It's such a CUTE drabble, I adore when one person can tell the other is pining for them, and the LAST LINE FUCKING GETS ME EVERY TIME-

Instead I made my bed with apathy by @thebooklord15

Just like every night before this one, Blitzo glared at the form next to him, already lulled into the bliss of slumber. He had never meant for things to turn out this way-he’d gotten the grimoire already, he didn’t need this man and from the way Stolas treated him it was clear he did not need the imp either.

And yet.

-Jcjdkafj this one is so GOOD I love blitz being pissed off yet too deep in to stop, and like I've said for others already THAT LAST LINE, PLEASE-

Call and response by anon

It was a love story, maybe.

-short but deliciously angsty, with some beautiful imagery, really nice dialogue, and time-doesn't-exist-in-this-motel-room vibes. Love it.

Shovel proof by @kereea

Octavia tries to give Blitzo the shovel talk. He decides to help with that.

-FUCKING cute, love the Octavia/Blitz dynamic, and it has snappy fun dialogue!! Really sweet.

Reaching out, touching me, touching you by @allmightshipserasermic

Stolas hasn’t been able to preen sufficiently in quite awhile, since Stella refuses to do it for him anymore. Blitzo offers to help.

-PREENING FIC is there anything more I have to say?

The skin you could have by @coloringthegreyscale

Stolas catches Blitzo staring and it leads to some talk, some magic, and a little bit of fun.

-Again, BEAUTIFUL dynamic between the two, lots of angsty tenderness, and lovely body imagery.

Different shapes by @sirdust

“Before the exorcist, he taketh the image and shape of a man.”

Blitz catches a glimpse of Stolas’ human form.

-okay, practically a direct opposite of the previous fic, but SO GOOD, I can't describe it. Love the imagery and their comfortable relationship.

A helluva mess by @stratumgermanitivum

It’s not like Stolas isn’t a hot piece of ass, because he is.

And it’s not like Blitzo’s blind or anything, because he isn’t.

It’s just that there’s pleasure, and then there’s business, and never the twain shall meet. (Unless he finally gets Moxx on board with that threeway, in which case, Blitzo fully intends to christen every damn surface of the office except his precious Loony’s desk.)

-AMAZING, love the pining and denial on both sides it's so great especially since you can tell both sides know that they've messed up. Again, LAST LINE!!

Eat the whole cake (it's what you deserve) by @okoyik

"His Highness is on the phone for you, sir," Moxxie says.

Blitzo makes a face. "Who?"

"Stolas," Moxxie supplies, as if that's supposed to help Blitzo understand. His expression is surely one of complete confusion as he stares at the other imp.

"Who the fuck is Stolas?" Blitzo asks slowly, racking his brain for a face to put to the name.

-

Blitzo's memory starts to slip, and all he knows is he needs that owl that seems to haunt his nightmares to stay away.

-HELLO it's only on one out of four chapters for now but it's already SO GOOD I can't WAIT for the rest!!!

Stand tall, but your hands are shaking by @remymorton

It’s been a month since the Harvest Moon festival. Another full moon night arrived, and after that... Blitz ... He's not well.

-wordless cute comfort, truly very sweet, I love it.

Palaces and souvenirs by @cloudysonder

So Stolas is objectively. Objectively. Attractive. Kinda soft-looking, sometimes. Pretty. Whatever. Fuckin’ whatever. That’s always been a thing. Blitzo knew that, Stolas definitely knew that-- whatever.

"This is not," Blitzo thinks, sounding a little bit desperate even to himself, "some sort of revelation."

His flicks of the lighter get a little more unstable, a little more frustrated.

A clawed hand reaches over and takes hold of the lighter, lighting Blitzo’s cigarette with practiced ease, as if he’d done the same thing a thousand times before (He has, Blitzo realizes).

“Silly Blitzy,” he giggles quietly, giving Blitzo a soft pat on the head before curling up beside him, stretching one last time before closing his eyes to sleep.

Blitzo feels warm.

"This," Blitzo tells himself, and it sounds like a command, "will not be a problem."

-I saw the start of this fic on Twitter and have been following it religiously ever since. It's really a gorgeous fic, three chapters up, with the promise of a Great slow burn, fun dialogue and Octavia & Blitz bonding. The level of denial Blitz is in even as he moves comfortably around every aspect of Stolas' life cracks me tf up.

Can't by @hazbincalifornia

Blitzo realizes he feels something something that he doesn't want to feel. This was supposed to be simple.

-feelings realization fic, wonderful, amazing, lovely, also the exact same way I realized I was gay, funnily enough (girl fell asleep in my lap and I was like oh. Oh fuck.)

Too late to stop by @malkaviancake

Stolas spends some time with his thoughts, realizing that his feelings for Blitzo aren't as one sided as he presumed.

-GORGEOUS vocab, I'm truly very obsessed with it. Like most of these stories, LAST LINE!!!!

Itchy with want, thin on sleep by me

It happens in parts- both falling in love and having his eyes opened.

-I will,, finish this one day, but for now here's a few in between moments before they have The Conversation.

Heaven in hiding by me

Their nights together are good, they always are, both of their tastes lining up to be shockingly compatible, but on the days where they end early and they get to spend some extra time cleaning up in comfortable silence or playful banter- and Blitz would rather take a bullet than admit this out loud- but those nights are pretty great too.

-AFTERCARE FIC, I had to write an aftercare fic ft. Good dom Blitz, Stolas taking care of him in return and a comfortable relationship that they both know is going to cause Problems in the future :)

Love in the bones and sinews of this curse by me

Five times Stolas and Blitz needed the grimoire to break a curse + one time they didn't.

-self explanatory. I tried to make it as funny as possible, everyone bickers a lot and Blitz brings Stolas flowers and gifts, what more could you need?

Life is a curse (love makes it worse) by me

"Alright!" Blitz says, clapping his hands together, "Weapons out, and-"

Half pull out some gun or the other, but half just look at him blankly. Blitz wishes for death.

"Save me from this family," He mutters under his breath, "Okay. Take these then." He passes out the few weapons he'd brought along with him and doesn't ask if they know how to use them because if he hears a no, he's giving up and going back home. "Stick close and talk loudly so the others can hear us. Let's go."

They move out, Blitz taking the lead and the rest forming a circle close behind him, starting up a loud conversation about the neighbour's garden. It gives him enough time to wonder exactly what the fuck he's doing here, in a nightmare world with a bunch of pretentious snobs, searching for his stupid Ars Goetia boyfriend, instead of sleeping in his nice lumpy bed back at home.

-a sequel to the previous fic!!! I had to write some Octavia and Blitz bonding, and accidentally added in a bunch of teenage imps who work for Stolas who imprint on Blitz immediately. And there's Eldritch Stolas, protective boyfriends and found family!!! The whole shebang!!!

This ended up being Much longer than I'd expected, but genuinely every fic up there is really good, go check em out!!!!

[master-sass-blast]

Winter Stay-cation.

*insert pithy quip here*

Summary: A massive squall hits New York City. The snow, combined with a deep freeze, brings the city that never sleeps to a standstill once the police issue travel bans. Fortunately, you and Piotr know how to keep yourselves entertained during your impromptu stay-cation.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, and Ellie Phimister x Yukio.

Rating: G for fluff.

Word Count: 3.4k.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: The movie quote from Day Five is from Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rear Window.”

Taglist:  @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“—continuing into the middle of next week, if not longer. Expect heavy snowfall and temperatures below freezing, with windchill taking things below zero over the weekend.”

“Good grief.” You shake your head as you watch the weather report on the morning news. “It doesn’t get that cold when I fly full speed.”

Piotr, your husband, hands you a cup of coffee and shrugs. “January is ugly month.”

You smirk into your mug. “Bet this doesn’t compare to Siberian winters.”

“Not really,” he admits with a chuckle.

“The Chief of New York City’s Fire Department has issued a statement reminding residents to be careful when using their fireplaces and to monitor children and pets.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you quip, “Don’t use fireworks as kindling, we got it.”

Piotr snorts.

“In addition, the Police Department has issued a travel advisory in light of the predicted precipitation and sub-zero temperatures. All none-essential travel is restricted until the cold snap passes.”

“Groovy. Tell that to half the city.”

Piotr grins, shakes his head again, then turns the TV off. “Looks like we will have to keep ourselves occupied here this week.”

You cast a disparaging glance outside –where the snow is already up to Piotr’s knees—then say, “Like we were going anywhere else.”

 ***

 Day One

 There’s an upside to when the “deep freeze” hits. It’s already winter break, meaning there’s no coordinating classes, figuring out how to pick up students that don’t live at the mansion, or having to get up at the balls-ugly hours of the early morning in the stupid, frigid cold.

The two of you wake up at your leisure, around nine o’clock. You laze around in bed for a bit, snuggling and chatting and smooching, then head downstairs for breakfast. You wind up setting up shop at the dining room table, catching up on grading and filling out end of the semester report cards.

“Can you check these for me?” Piotr asks, handing you a stack of essays from his art classes. “I already made content-based marks; I am just not sure about English grammar.”

“Fun fact: most native English speakers aren’t sure about their grammar, either,” you joke with a smirk.

Piotr snorts, then checks his computer clock before standing. “Is about lunchtime. I was thinking soup and sandwiches?”

You nod. “Sounds tasty.”

“Would you like anything in particular?”

“Surprise me.” You make a contented hum when Piotr leans over the table to kiss you, then smile as you watch him head to the kitchen.

You really are the world’s luckiest woman (a sentiment you feel even more keenly when he comes back with a fresh cup of hot cider for you).

 ***

 Day Two

 “We should clean.”

The two of you are sitting on the couch. Your laptops sit on the coffee table, displaying the completed efforts of uploading grades to the online gradebook that the school uses. Two mugs that once contained coffee sit next to either laptop.

You look up at Piotr. You’re tucked against his side, head leaning on his shoulder while his fingers trace designs on the sleeve of your sweater (which is technically his sweater, but that’s neither here nor there). “Huh?”

“We should clean,” he repeats as he scrubs at his face with his free hand. “House could use it.”

You crane your neck to look over his shoulder. “We don’t really have that many dirty dishes.”

Piotr snorts, then raises an eyebrow at you. “When was last time we vacuumed? Or deep cleaned bathrooms? Or washed windows?”

“We can see out the windows just fine!”

Piotr grins and shakes his head. He stands, holding his hand out to you. “Come on, myshka. Clean home, clean mind.”

“I’ll have you know that my mind is nothing but dirty, and I’m offended that you would dare insinuate otherwise.”

Piotr laughs and helps you up. “We can start upstairs and work our way down.”

 ***

 Cleaning with Piotr isn’t so bad. He carries his fair share of the workload, does things to their proper doneness, and is a firm supporter of blasting tunes while cleaning.

“Take! Me! On!” You bounce up and down in time with the beat while you clean the sliding glass doors in your bedroom that lead out to the balcony. “I’ll… be… gone! In a day or two!”

Behind you, Piotr laughs. He’s hauling out a trashbag from the bathroom –no doubt filled with the sheer amount of crumpled paper towels it takes to get the place sanitary again. “I see you are enjoying yourself.”

“Absolutely not. I’m suffering endlessly. I’m going to die any minute now.” And then, to prove you point, you flop to the floor dramatically (taking care to use your powers to cushion your landing).

Piotr lets out a choked gasp, then clutches at his chest. “You keep scared me!”

You look up at him and laugh. “You know I can catch myself! You’ve seen me do that before!”

“Changes nothing!” He lets out a ragged breath, hand still pressed over his heart. “I could have heart attack.”

You giggle, then lift yourself off the floor with a swirl of wind. You land nimbly on your toes before him and wrap your arms around his waist. “Aw, now who’s being dramatic?”

“I fail to see how concern for your well-being is dramatic!”

You suppress a grin, opting to pop up on the balls of your feet and kiss him instead. “I’m very sorry I scared you, baby.”

“Is okay.” He kisses you gently, then gazes down at you with a rueful smile on his lips. “What am I going to do with you, myshka?”

“Dance with me?” You flash him an impish smile, then start bouncing in time to the music again.

Piotr chuckles, then takes your hands in his and bops along with you.

The two of you dance around the room –well, as much as what you’re doing can be called dancing. You sing the lyrics of the song to each other, not sticking to any particular key or tempo.

You laugh when Piotr lifts you into his arms, bridal style, then squeal in delight when he spins the two of you around.

It’s perfect.

 ***

 Day Three

 You wake up to the sound of Piotr’s phone chirping –because, even on vacation, he still keeps a daily morning alarm.

He groans as he comes to, then laughs when you roll over him and shut off his alarm for him. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

You set his phone back on his nightstand, then straddle his hips and plant your hands against his brawny chest. “You’re not making me clean today.”

Piotr smirks up at you, bushy eyebrow raising in challenge. “Oh?”

“We’re spending today in this bed,” you continue. “Just you” –you tap his chest—“and me, and as few clothes as possible. Sound good?”

He pretends to mull it over, even has he takes off the shirt he’d been sleeping in. “Are we allowed bathroom and meal breaks?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Ah, very generous. Thank you, benevolent myshka.”

“You’re very welcome.” You giggle when he grins –then let out a delighted yelp when he rolls suddenly, pinning you between him and the bed. You sigh as he kisses you, eyes fluttering shut. You arms wind around his neck, holding him against you while his hands smooth down your body.

 ***

 Day Four

 Cabin fever starts setting in between the third and fourth day. There’s only so many chores you can do, only so many papers you can grade (and you’re out of papers to grade, which doesn’t help your case), only so much sex you can have before you’re gonna start losing your mind.

Fortunately, Piotr is well-attuned to you and your mental states –meaning he notices that you’re getting twitchy before you dip into pyromania to keep yourself entertained.

“We should do something fun today,” he says during breakfast. He spreads some sour cream over his plate of blinis, then adds cottage cheese and sausage meat. “Perhaps play some video games. Ellie has been pestering me to play some multi-people games with her and Yukio.”

“Could be fun,” you say before stuffing your mouth full with Nutella-covered blini. You swallow, then ask, “What did she want to play?”

“Ah… she had two. I think… Falling Guys and Among Us?”

A slow, wicked grin stretches across your place. Fuck yeah. “Let her know we’re in.”

 ***

 Piotr, unfortunately, turns out to be none too good at Fall Guys.

“No!” He wails, then flops back against the couch when he gets thrown off a platform and into the slime. “I could not run away!”

“You have to anticipate the enemy’s movements,” Ellie says over Discord. She’s already qualified and is spectating you and Yukio. “Predict their strategy, then counter.”

“I think it is less strategy and more ‘giant hands do not play nice with tiny controller,’” Piotr grumbles good-naturedly.

“Or maybe you got your butt kicked like a scrub,” Ellie fires back.

“I never contested that,” Piotr chuckles.

“Alright,” you say, eyes glued on your pink and yellow striped player. “I’m almost there, there’s plenty of slots left –no, you fucking pigeon! Let me go!”

“Language,” Piotr murmurs between bouts of laughter.

“It’s always a pigeon!” Ellie groans. “Fucking skyrats.”

“Language, NTW.”

You qualify for the next round (no thanks to the damn pigeon, who qualifies, too). Egg Scramble is next, and you wind up facing off against Ellie and Yukio for the win.

“Damn it!” There’s the sound of something hitting the floor –most likely Ellie throwing her controller—when she and Yukio get booted out. “Yellow always loses!”

“Is that it?” you ask while the loading screen plays. “Are we at the final round yet?”

“There’ll be one more,” Yukio says. “To finish whittling down the competitors.”

Sure enough, there’s a round of Tip-Toe –which you get through by the skin of your teeth—and then you and eight other players are sent to the finale.

“Okay, Hex-A-Gone. You’ll want to just hop from tile to tile,” Ellie advises you while the level loads. “It makes the tiles last longer.”

“Don’t be afraid to drop a couple levels at first,” Yukio adds. “You can carve out one of the lower levels, meaning anyone that falls above you will have further to go and will be more likely to get out.”

“I appreciate it, but don’t expect any miracles,” you say, laughing self-deprecatingly.

Piotr kisses the top of your head. “You can do this, myshka.”

You follow the girls’ advice; you let yourself drop down two levels, then start hopping from tile to tile to start carving out the platform.

“One guy’s already out!” Ellie announces. “You’ve got this!”

“Shit! I fell!”

“That’s okay,” Yukio reassures you. “Find a decent mass of tiles and hop, don’t run. Make them last.”

“The pigeon grabbed another player,” Piotr marvels, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, they both died, so fat lot of good it did them,” Ellie mutters.

You keep going, bounce from brightly colored hexagon to brightly colored hexagon.

“Only four left!” Ellie lets out a whoop. “Holy shit, you’re gonna make it!”

“Don’t jinx me!” you laugh as you dodge another player’s attempt to grab you. “Don’t jinx me!”

“Three left –two! It’s just you and one other guy!”

“You’ve got this, Y/N!” Yukio cheers.

You dive for a clump of tiles –and miss. “No!” You groan, then laugh as your character plummets into the pink slime. “Damn. I’m never going to do that good ever again.”

Piotr wraps an arm around your shoulders in a conciliatory hug. “You did wonderful job, myshka.”

“He’s right. That was really good. The winner fell a few seconds after you, so it was basically a coin toss as to who was gonna get the crown,” Ellie says while the winner’s animation plays on screen.

“Yeah! Great job!” Yukio congratulates you.

“Wanna do another round?” Ellie asks as she flicks between skins and accessories for her avatar.

Yukio laughs lightly. “Baby, we were going to get lunch.”

“Oh, right.”

“Perhaps we can try other game after lunch,” Piotr suggests. “‘Fall Guys’ is okay, but makes me too dizzy.”

“Yeah, sure. Text me when you guys are done eating.”

***

 Among Us doesn’t go much better for Piotr, if only because he doesn’t adhere to the strategy of the game. He does his tasks without fail –which usually leaves him alone, and thus a prime target for killing or pinning a murder on. He’s also a terrible liar, which makes it easy to tell when he is the impostor.

You laugh as Piotr’s little red spaceman goes floating into space. “I honestly feel bad.”

“I don’t,” Wade says (he and Nate hopped on the Discord call when Yukio sent them an invite). “Pay for some acting classes, Chrome Dome! Give us a challenge, at least.”

Piotr starts grumbling in Russian, but it gets cut off when the round starts up again.

(You all still wind up losing because Nate’s the other impostor and racks up bodies like nobody’s business.)

“I’m still waiting for when Ellie and Dad get the impostor role together,” you comment as the defeat screen flashes on your laptop screen.

“What, so we all die in five minutes?” Wade grumbles. “So we can suffer the agony of betrayal and not honoring trust again?”

“It’s just a game, Wade,” Nate sighs. “And I apologized already.”

“Is our relationship ‘just a game’ to you, Natey? I gave you an alibi –and then you shanked me in the shower like rejected prison bitch!”

“Language, Wade,” your husband pipes up, voice world-weary. “Please.”

You all start another round once Wade calms down –which, admittedly, takes a while and a great deal of coaxing from Nathan. You grin when you see that you’re an impostor alongside Yukio –then giggle to yourself when a plan pops into your mind.

You start stalking Piotr around the map. You fake doing tasks alongside him, acting as his shadow as he treks around the map. On the corner of your screen, you watch your kill timer wind down, then wait for the right moment once it runs out, and—

Downstairs, in his art studio, your husband lets out an indignant scream when your character murders his.

You fall back onto the bed and cackle.

 ***

 Day Five

 The squall rages on outside. The world is practically buried in snow. It’s a sea of white outside your bedroom windows, blinding and sterile.

You peer at the swaths of snow blanketing every inch of ground, every tree branch, and every shrub, then nestle further under the blankets. “Ugh. I don’t even want to get out of bed today.”

Piotr chuckles, then wraps an arm around your waist. “How come?”

“Have you seen what it’s like outside? It’s disgusting!”

“I thought you liked snow.”

“I do. That’s how you know it’s bad.” You sigh as you eye the fat, fluffy flakes falling from the sky. “I wish I could, like, go outside. Go to a store or something. Leave the house.”

“Is not safe to drive yet.”

“I know, I know.” You sigh. “Is it bad that I miss the color green?”

“Nyet. Is normal.”

You smile, just a little, when Piotr kisses the back of your head. You roll over to face him. “Can we build a blanket fort today?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What… here? In bedroom?”

“Yeah. We can make it look all pretty, and snuggle in bed, and watch movies, and have sex…”

“Bozhe ty moi.” Piotr snorts, then takes a moment to study your face, your eyes. “You really want blanket fort?”

“Kind of, yeah. I just… I want something new to look at.”

The corner of his mouth turns up in a soft smile. He presses his lips against your forehead. “Alright, myshka. Let’s make fort.”

***

 “When a man and a woman see each other and like each other, they ought to come together. Wham. Like a couple of taxis on Broadway.”

You let out a content, relaxed sigh, then wriggle closer to Piotr.

The fort, admittedly, is simple –but you don’t mind. While you were taking a shower, Piotr assembled the whole thing, just to give you a little surprise.

He’d brought up a couple floor lamps from the main floor, then clipped some fairy lights to them before draping the largest quilt in the house over top to make the room. He’d pinned some throw blankets to either side of the quilt to make the sides, then made the bed and assembled the pillows so the two of you could have a nice, cozy, comfy den to watch movies in.

The recurring, delighted thought of ‘he made it for me; he made it for me because he knew I wanted one’ loops around in your brain like a bumblebee drunk on fermented crab apples. You grin, then loop your arms around Piotr’s neck and kiss his cheek.

He grins, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What was that for?”

“You made me a blanket fort.”

“You asked for one.”

“Yeah, but you made it for me. You could’ve just waited until we could both work on it.”

He shrugs, lips curving into a soft, pleased smile. “I wanted to see look on face. You were very happy.”

“Correction: I am very happy.” You kiss the tip of his nose, then his lips. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

 ***

 Day Six

 You know it’s bad when you wake up before Piotr.

You look over at your husband, who’s still slumbering away next to you –and sawing some logs, no less—then out at the winter hellscape outside, and decide there’s only one thing for it.

You’re channeling your inner Great British Bake Off contestant and demolishing the kitchen.

***

 Piotr comes downstairs around ten in the morning –which is a miraculous amount of sleep in time for him—but by then, the damage has already been done.

There’s a cake cooling on the counter (you’d found a box of cake mix in the back of the pantry and decided to use it as a warm-up. The mixer is working overtime on a double batch of sugar cookies –plus there’s already chocolate chip cookie dough chilling in the fridge.

You look up from the cookbook you’d been perusing –you were thinking pie next—and flash your husband a slightly sheepish grin as he gapes at the kitchen. “Uh… good morning?”

“Myshka…”

“I made cake.”

“I can see that.” Piotr drops his heads into his hands and makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Why?”

“Because being trapped inside is stressing me out and I want to cope by eating my weight in desserts.”

Piotr sighs, then lifts his head. He eyes the mixer, then the increasingly sheepish expression on your face. “How much is that?”

“In the bowl or in the fridge?”

“Bozhe ty moi.”

“Look, the way I see it, we can share—”

“You have that much correct. We do not need five million cookies.”

“Excuse you, I’m only making three million. Also, do you know where the lard is?”

Piotr’s face scrunches up. “Lard? Why—”

“I wanna make pie.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “We already have cake. And goodness knows how many kinds of cookies.”

“But those aren’t pie.” You smile impishly at him. “Plus, like, pie has fruit, so it’s good for you. You like fruit. Think about how good it’ll be to eat something with fruit after all the cake, and the cookies…”

“Or I could just eat fruit.” He sighs, resigned and slightly frustrated, when you bat your eyelashes at him. “I will check pantry.”

***

 Day Seven

 “—as of today, authorities are lifting the ban on nonessential travel—”

“Yes!” You launch yourself into the air, twirling around and pumping your fists before landing lightly on the couch once more. “Finally!”

Piotr laughs and shakes his head. “What, is staying inside with me so terrible?”

“Absolutely not.” You crawl across the couch and into his lap, then give him a loud smooch. “I have enjoyed every single day of your company. However, you’ve got about fifteen minutes before I start repainting the walls out of sheer boredom.”

Piotr bursts into raucous guffaws. He puts a hand over his eyes, shoulders and stomach shaking with each laugh. He sighs, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as minute giggles slip past his lips. “Well, we do need to restock on food. And flour and butter, since someone decided to open bakery yesterday.”

You pointedly ignore the pies and full cookie jar sitting on the kitchen counter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He snorts, then pats your thigh. “Get dressed, myshka. We will go shopping.”

“Fuck yeah!” You zip up the stairs.

Downstairs, you can hear Piotr start laughing again.

[metize]

MC x Caesar ((NSFW)) - Sunday Revolution

“We did it… Fuck, we actually did it…” you were out of breath the flames of revolution before you sparked hope in your eyes.

No more mafia supremacy over the town. You and Caesar used the Wolf Gang recruitment power to educate the poorer citizens, in the last months you organized a veritable commune in the forest harboring the less fortunate. Dr. Crow had been extremely helpful and sympathetic with your cause, he took Soh under his wing (haha) as his apprentice and the boy was truly a prodigy of a physician.

While Caesar orchestrated hunts, gathering food for the growing number of members, you handled the academic aspect of teaching people how to read and write. You often sneakily looted the Oz mansion for useful books and other such resources. Caesar himself was your first student, he was a quick learner, and getting praised for doing well always made him grin with pride.

You all knew you had to do something about the current state of affairs in town. The tension within those walls was palpable, even on Sundays, the familias were always a wrong move away from total warfare. They were always more preoccupied with hosting superficial festivals instead of taking care of social-economic inequalities reigning in town.

The Wolf Gang conquered each estate from the familias, their leaders cornered until they could do nothing but surrender. You gathered all of them to the Plaza, the city was burning and there was rubble everywhere. You and Caesar stood up on a vending stand, as a makeshift stage.

“I don’t get how you stay calm in moments people would be trembling in fear” Caesar snickered shaking his head.

“I know that despite the scary surface that there’s a lot of good underneath”

Were you talking about the scene before you or about the man beside you? You smiled knowing it was both.

“This is chaos, what did you do, MC?” Axel said behind you. He felt betrayed, all members of Oz did. You understood their positions, they were in a very comfortable place in the hierarchy and they were your dearest friends. You weren’t planning on dispatching the familias altogether, you couldn’t do it even if you wanted to. You were just going to install a more democratic system, reinvest and redistribute wealth, create programs…

“It’s not as chaotic as you’d think.” You smiled at him. You knew your people. You looked at the dispersed crowd before you, people tending to wounded civilians or extinguishing the fires. You took your handgun and shot into the sky above you, the sound resounding all over the plaza, getting everyone’s eyes on you.

“Friends, today we took the first step towards a brighter future. My name is MC, I'm part of the Wolf Gang and a friend of the mafia." You paused, remembering the speech you prepared beforehand for this very moment "I am a friend, I am not here to be feared. But no revolution takes place without violence. We won't abolish the Mafia, they are important to the town, but we shall give more power to the people." You looked at Caesar, a bit nervous. He was smiling and nodded at you in encouragement. "There will be more councils, democratically elected officials who are *not* from the ruling class. Peace will prevail and every day shall be a fearless Sunday." Applauses washed over the plaza, you could hear your heartbeat loudly drumming through your body. You smiled at the crowd before turning around to face Caesar.

The Wolf Gang leader pulled you closer by the collar and smashed your lips together roughly. Before you could even react he broke the kiss and stepped back to check in the other Wolf Gang members.

Your face went entirely red and it felt as if it was on fire.

"Huh?" You mumbled quietly. You touched your lips, trying to recompose yourself, before turning away descending your makeshift podium and heading to talk to the Mafia.

"So we're not going anywhere?" Axel stared at you dumbfounded.

"Nah, you just need to take it down a few notches." You sigh and smile "The people can't take that much mayhem all week. We need some normal people to keep you guys in check."

You called in a meeting with the families. You spoke with them for a while, explaining your plans, your motivations. The Oz family was not unreasonable, nor were the other Mafiosi in some respect, but you had needed to get their attention, or else they'd never wake up.

You couldn't have done it without your pack. The Wolf Gang was nothing like it used to be, it was still the sought after refuge from the mafia's antics, but its members were reformed and hardworking people. Its leader was always by your side giving you the strength you needed to accomplish your goals.

The day had been eventful to say the very least. It was midnight when you checked the clock in the council room, you had stayed thereafter the meeting going through dozens of reports and documents to update yourself on the current state of the territory situation. 

M"Look at that, my little prey all by herself with nowhere to run" Caesar entered the room locking the door behind him. You looked at him and smiled. He sighed disappointedly. "Can you at least pretend to be scared?"

"Oh no, the big bad wolf has caught me" you feigned terror, it wasn't your best performance. "How come you manage to face Hamelin himself but you can't face me after finally kissing me?"

"Finally, you say." He smirked at you. He had made your way towards you, now towering over you as you still sat in your chair. "I had to leave or else I have no idea what else I'd have done to you."

"Huh?" As you finished saying that his lips were already on yours.

He kissed you roughly almost forcing your mouth open to accept him in. Not that he needed to, you responded in kind, fully submitting to him. He pulled away glaring at the council table, he pushed off all documents spilling them all over the floor before taking you in his arms and placing you over it.

“You looked so hot up there spewing all that shit about freedom and democracy” he murmured into your ear, his hands caressing your thighs as he slotted himself between them. You giggled at his words, embarrassed.

“You’re just making fun of me at this point.”

“I’m serious.” He said and went in for another kiss. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms behind his neck, he growled inside your mouth and bit your bottom lip. “I wanted to ravage you right there, against that damn tower” he moved his mouth to your neck kissing it and biting it in equal measure “right in front of those mafia guys” he gripped your thighs harder, pulling you closer.

“Ngh Caesar…” you groaned as he groped your clothed chest while his other hand caressed your inner thighs close enough to your core to send shivers down your spine.

“They’d be so fucking jealous, knowing you belong to me and me alone.” just saying that made him grin despite himself. You were aware by now of how possessive he could be towards you, since day one he’d been calling you his prey. He swiped a finger over your clothed pussy, you moan dissatisfied trying to push towards him. But he held you by your hips so you couldn’t move. “Say it. Who do you belong to?”

“You, Caesar… I’m yours-”

“Damn right you are.” He smirks and gets on his knees before pulling up the hem of your dress. He made quick work of your panties discarding them just like the documents splayed on the ground. He was kissing your inner thighs and you could feel his breath in between your legs making you shudder with anticipation. “Ah… my prey I’ve been just dying to eat you up.” He looked up at you smiling as he slowly parted your lips and carefully stroked your clit with his thumb, you were groaning trying to scoot closer, but the wolf was far stronger than you, holding your hips in place with his other hand.

Before you could complain about his teasing his mouth was on your cunt and you gasped, holding the corner of the council table trying to steady yourself.

“Fuck- Caesar…” you moaned his name, he felt so warm, his tongue playing with your clit and you could feel him starting to enter a finger into your entrance. He was surely trying to make you go insane. His finger finding no resistance he added a second, steadily pressing them against you, pumping in and out. “Caesar I’m-”

And he stopped, the absolute demon he was. “Oh no, not just yet” and his fingers were gone. 

“H-how dare you…?” You groaned in protest

He snickered and got up undoing his pants, taking his cock out. “Want you to come with me inside of you, you can hold it for a little bit.” You’d get annoyed at him if your attention wasn’t somewhere else. He had a knot, of course, he did, your mind was hazy with lust, and the fact that he would knot you made your cunt clench around nothing. He pressed his erection against your entrance, sliding over it a bit teasingly in the cruelest way.

“Please…” you weren’t above begging, you just needed him inside you.

“You can do better than that.”

“Caesar please, need you to fuck me, need you, need your knot, please, make me yours…”

“Good girl,” he said, pressing into you, your pussy wet enough he entered with ease. He slowly pushed inside, stopping a bit when you groaned checking to see how you were doing, you nodded at him to keep going. “Just a bit more…” He bottomed out inside you, sighing as your heat enveloped him. “Fuck… Your tight little pussy is so wet for me, huh?”

You didn’t trust your voice, you groaned affirmatively and he took that as a queue to start moving. You couldn’t help but make noise, despite yourself, he had you edge already with the way he ate you out and all the teasing. 

“Ah… my prey makes the prettiest sounds…” He growled against your ear “If you keep making those I won’t be able to hold myself back”

“More…”

And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t stop to speak and tease you, all that came from his mouth was animalistic growls and harsh pants. He pounded into you faster, his cock reaching deep inside of you, making you moan and grasp his soft white hair. “Caesar, fuck… Caesar, I love you.” You came when you felt his knot start entering you and he kept thrusting through your orgasm.

“Again” he growled

“Aah- I love you… Caesar, I love you.”

“Fuck-” He bit down your neck as he came, his seed spilling deep inside you as he held you close through his spasms. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath.

“Ah- this was a terrible idea, how long are we going to stay like this..?”

“Uh… up to 30 minutes, it’s fine.” He grumbled, picked you up again, and sat in the chair still hugging you close. “I… do too.”

“Huh?”

“Love you, that is.” He muffled his voice against your shoulder. You giggled at his confession. Caesar nuzzled your neck for half an hour, enjoying your scent mixed with his. You weren’t able to walk afterward so he did end up carrying you to your cottage.

[miss-scientia]

Unrequited Love

Hi all, (everyone who is still here that is!) just a random post by me! Not totally random actually. I was just going through my old documents and I found a FFXV one shot I had completely finished but never posted for some reason. I re-read it and actually quite liked it, so I thought I’d stop by and post it for anyone still around! It’s a bit of slight Noctis angst, I hope you enjoy if you read! 

(Also, I stop by from time to time and see notifications still popping up. You are all still so lovely!)

Prompto x Reader x Noctis (kind of!) SFW This is a long one!

She had confessed her feelings to him at the beginning of their journey, but he’d rejected them to stick to his duty. After a while she moved on and started dating Prom, which is... great! Fantastic really! Then why did he feel so shitty...?

Noctis was sure, he thought to himself as he shuffled around in his sleeping bag, that the six had a pretty sick sense of humour. They had to have, judging by his current predicament. Either that, or he had done something really, really, really bad in a past life to deserve this. 

Gods above it wasn’t fair. 

It wasn’t fair that he was the one chosen to be the king of kings, having his future laid out and already planned for him. It wasn’t fair that he had to marry Luna, an area in life where he ought to have control, yet had none. And it certainly wasn’t fair that the actual girl he was in love with, was with someone else. 

And that someone was his best friend. 

To make matters worse, she had previously admitted feelings for Noctis too, early on in their journey. But he’d had to say no, that he was already betrothed to another, that he couldn’t do that to Luna or his family. A familiar sinking feeling clawed at Noctis’ gut as he recalled that day, the regret of his words churning in his stomach. 

What an idiot. 

How different life could’ve been if he’d only told her how he felt that day. Instead, he had kept his lips sealed and she had moved on. Unfortunately, to a certain blond haired sharp shooter. 

Although he had his back to them, Noctis could hear them both now, whispering to each other in a shared sleeping bag. Did they have to be so... so affectionate? Constantly touching, constantly giggling. It was like they lived to torture him. 

Noctis stifled a groan, the pit in his stomach growing ever deeper. The whispering of the two finally ceased, and Noctis was about to send a silent thanks to the gods, before an odd sound stopped him. 

Are they...? 

A sharp wet sound emanated from behind him, confirming his suspicions. They were making out, completely unaware of the wide awake prince laid only mere inches away from them. 

I must’ve done something absolutely awful in a previous life. 

Before he could prevent it, a perfect picture of the scene behind him had appeared in his mind; her wrapped tightly against Prompto’s body, his arms tight against her, pulling her to his frame. Their lips locked in a heated kiss, eyes communicating their sheer desperation for each other. 

It was like a knife had impaled his stomach. The mental image paired with the the all too real sounds behind him was enough to make him queasy. The thing was though, he couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry at either of them. He had rejected her, and she had ended up with Prom - why shouldn’t they have got together? It was neither of their fault, no. Could he even blame himself however? Was it his own fault, even though he’d been born into this life with all of his future, all of his destiny already set out for him? Was it his fault for following his duty? He wasn’t certain, but he was damn sure that it sucked. 

Curling his fingertips into the soft material of his pillow, Noctis attempted to block out the almost heavenly sighs that fell from her lips. Slowly he drifted off, plagued with thoughts of how if only he had the chance, he could make her sigh like that... 

- 

The ever delicious scent of Ignis’ cooking drifted to your nose as the evening meal was presented to you and your camp mates. Your stomach grumbled in anticipation, desperate for fuel after the exhausting day you’d all had. “I dunno if it’s because I’m ravenous, or if you’ve done an extra special job of it tonight Iggy, but this is the best meal I’ve ever laid my eyes upon!” Your boyfriend Prompto sighed dramatically from beside you, eyes lighting up as he was handed his food. 

“Kid’s right Iggy, this is good stuff.” Gladio nodded, already digging into his larger than average portion. 

“Mmmmph...” came your almost orgasmic sigh of agreement. 

“Well, thank you everyone, but I dare say that I haven’t done anything extra special tonight. Perhaps we were all ready for a meal after our rather busy day.” Ignis modestly brushed aside the compliments, but you could tell he was pleased by the corners of his mouth rising, fighting to hide the beam threatening to reveal itself. 

You were halfway through your food before you realised that Noctis hadn’t said a word since sitting down. Casting your eyes over to the prince, you saw his figure sitting rather slumped over on the floor opposite you. One hand gripped a fork rather loosely as he stabbed the utensil repeatedly into the same carrot, in and out, over and over. His brow line puckered slightly, the hints of a frown forming over his dull looking eyes. It struck you that he sort of looked like... he was sulking. And now you thought about it, he’d been really grumpy all day, unresponsive and quiet. 

Wonder what’s up with him? You thought, glancing once more. Strands of his jet black hair fell into his eyes, causing him to blink those long lashes and sweep his head slightly to clear his vision. 

Your heart stuttered. 

As much as you didn’t want it, he was still able to get you like that. One little move of his head or gesture of his hands, and it shook you again just how pretty he was. 

It truly was hard to forget about your first love. 

Drawing your eyes away you searched for another familiar pair, gaze landing on the ever smiling, ever warm face of your boyfriend and immediately you felt better. As much as Noctis could sometimes catch you off guard, you knew for certain you loved Prompto. There was no doubt there. 

“You okay [Name]?” His kind face and genuine smile had you smiling back instantly. 

“Sure am Prom.” You replied, resting a hand on his knee. Naturally, his hand rested on top of yours, warm and safe. 

“What’s the matter with you prince sulks?” Gladio voiced your earlier question, albeit a little more teasingly. Everyone stopped eating to glance over at the Prince in question. 

Noctis shot Gladio a glare, his eyes clearly saying ‘don’t even start’. 

“Is there something on your mind that you wish to share?” Ignis asked this time, much more accommodatingly. 

“No. Why, does it look like it?” His voice was gruff, annoyed. There was definitely something up. 

“Well, you’ve not really said much since coming back, and you’ve barely touched your food.” You offered. 

“Yeah pal, is there anything we can help with?” Prompto offered his best friend, leaning forward so he could pat his leg. 

Finally Noctis looked up, but as you caught his expression your heart sank. He looked mighty pissed. 

“I said there isn’t anything. Why do you guys have to push me all the time?” 

Prompto blinked, taken aback by his friend’s blunt tone. 

“I just wanted to see if there’s anything I could do to-” 

“Well there isn’t Prompto. There’s nothing that anyone can do, okay?” The prince snapped, rising to his feet. 

Prompto’s face fell, and that was like someone had pressed the anger button on inside you. You were suddenly furious. How could he talk like that to his best friend? 

“What the hell is up with you?” Standing to your feet, you walked over to the sulky prince. 

“Nothing, [Name].” 

“Nothing? So you think you can talk to people like that because... because nothing?” 

Noctis looked at you, fully frowning now, agitation apparent in his ocean blue eyes. 

“Guys, I think we should just cool it...” Prompto’s quiet voice attempted to cut the tension which was now crackling in the air. 

“I agree, Noctis I’m not sure what’s wrong, but we must-” 

“I’d have been fine if people had just left me alone.” Noctis cut over Ignis. 

“Sorry that people care about you.” You retorted, anger still clouding your better judgement. 

“Yeah well, I never asked for people to. I never asked for any of this.” 

“You ungrateful little-” 

“Noctis.” Gladio’s voice stopped you from finishing your sentence. He hadn’t shouted, hadn’t raised his voice, but his deep rumbling tone halted you. “I think you should go and take a walk. Cool down. Come back when you have a better head on, cause this is going no where.” 

“Tch, fine.” Noctis grumbled, but turned on his heel and stalked off into the night, leaving the four of you hurt, annoyed and confused. 

- 

The campsite seemed overly quiet now that the prince was gone, suffocatingly so. Every cough and every shuffle was heard, adding to the already tense atmosphere. 

“I just don’t understand. It’s not like him.” Prompto said for the fifth time. He was anxiously picking at the hem of his shirt, pulling at a loose thread. Every so often you had to lay your hand atop his to remind him to stop before it became threadbare. 

“I know what you mean, I don’t get what’s up with him.” Gladio sighed and stretched. 

“Perhaps his last comment gave us some insight? He said he never asked for any of this. He has never been overly fond on what his future holds in store for him...” Ignis offered a solution in a quiet speculative tone. You almost scoffed however.  

“It still doesn’t give him the right to talk to his best friend like dirt.” Prompto squeezed your hand in silent thanks, but you knew that the blond wasn’t even angry. In fact, you correctly assumed that he was more worried for Noctis’ safety right now. 

Pure person through and through. 

“I do wish we could know where he went.” Ignis sighed, guardian-like instincts kicking in. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine specs, he’ll come back when he’s ready.” Gladio attempted to appease Ignis, to no avail. 

You had a pretty good idea of where Noctis might have headed to, thinking back to the car journey earlier on that day. The only time when the prince had shown remotely any interest in what was going on around him is when you had driven past a very large lake. It was highly plausible that he’d gone to check it out. The more you thought about it, the more that you were certain this is where he’d have headed. And the more you thought about it, the more you realised you could remember the way there. And the more you thought about that, the more you realised this was a good a chance as any to have a proper conversation with him. And to possibly lecture him on how to actually talk to his best friend. 

I can go there, yank him back here and make him apologise. 

Looking over at Prompto’s anxious face, his top front teeth gently nibbling on his lower lip, you knew this was the right thing to do. You stood up quite forcefully, drawing the attention of the other three boys. 

“[Name]...?” 

“I’m going to go find him, and bring him back. Then I’m going to get him to apologise.” 

Ignis sighed, Gladio nodded, and Prom... 

“Are you sure you want to do that [Name]?” He stammered, looking torn between some inner dilemma. 

“I’m sure. I think I know where to look, but I’ll be fine. I can’t have him talking to you like that Prom. I can’t.” 

“He was just angry, he didn’t mean it.” 

“Well then, he can just say sorry when I drag him back here.” You told Prompto with a reassuring smile. The blond boy finally smiled back, standing up to face you. 

“Thank you [Name]. Be safe.” He told you, and with a quick kiss you set off in search of one sulky prince to bring home. 

- 

Just as you’d expected, Noctis had made his way over to the lake that your group had passed earlier. You could see his silhouette from where you stood; his shadowed figure sat crossed legged on the wooden pier which stretched out into the middle of the lake. The perfect fishing spot, yet he wasn’t fishing. 

Well shit, there’s gotta be something really wrong with him then. 

It hadn’t taken you all too long to get there since you knew which paths to take, however it was still a rather long way away from where your group had pitched the tent. It had been a miracle that no daemons had attacked you, dark as it was out. You wondered how long the prince had been sat there, not fishing, just sitting and watching the lake. 

Taking a deep breath, you walked out from your hiding spot and marched all the way down to the lake, stopping to stand a few feet away from Noctis. He didn’t move upon your arrival, showed no sign that he was even aware of your presence. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Noctis?” 

“[Name]?” Was his reply, quiet but with a hint of sullen sarcasm you knew well. Swallowing the biting response you wanted to give, you instead replied; 

“What are you doing out here?” 

He didn’t answer straight away, still looking down at his hands. In fact, he took so long to answer that you weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. But then finally; 

“It’s peaceful out here. When it’s night like this, lakes always seem that much more... tranquil. Kinda makes me feel like time has stopped, at least in this little area, y’know?” His reply startled you a little, it hadn’t been what you were expecting. And looking around the lake, you could kind of see what he meant. But as lovely as the lake was, you weren’t here to discuss that. You had a purpose in mind for travelling all the way out here, and feeling sorry for the prince wasn’t it. 

“Noctis, I don’t really understand your train of thought right now, but what I do know, is that you snapped at everyone and left your best friend feeling highly confused and rather hurt.” He could probably hear the accusatory edge to your voice. 

Well, good. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to upset anyone. I just hate it when everyone is pushing me.” 

“Yeah, well y’did.” 

“I know that [Name].” He finally turned to look at you, those ocean blues flashing with a hint of frustration. “Don’t think I don’t know that, cause I do. It makes me feel worse than I already do, alright?”

You folded your arms. “Then come back and apologise.”

“Tch, I’m not going back there yet.” He mumbled, his eyes dropping once more. This only annoyed you further.

“So, it makes you feel bad, and yet... you’re not gonna apologise for what you’ve done? Is that it?”

“N-n... that’s not what I said.” The prince suddenly sprang to his feet, his body towering over you. He was getting worked up at your words, the biting remarks nibbling away at his ability to think clearly enough to explain himself coherently.

“You aren’t the only one going through some tough shit, okay?” You snapped, unaware at his inner turmoil.

“Obviously! I never once said- it’s really hard for me to- just stop pushing me, alright?”

“No. If you won’t apologise then we at least get to know what’s got that stick so far up your butt!” You drew yourself up to try and make yourself look taller. There was no way he was worming out of this one, and you could tell he knew. He could sense your determination, his eyes betraying the slightest hint of panic within the frustration.

“[Name], seriously, you-”

“No Noctis! We’re sick of it! We can’t even help you if you don’t explain.”

“You can’t help me.”

“Why not? What is it Noctis?” Your voice was sharp but your eyes were gentle. Underneath all of your annoyance, you really did just want to help your friend.

“[Name], really, you don’t-”

“What is it?”

“I’m telling you, you’re not-”

“What is it?”

“[Name]-!”

“Just tell me what it is!”

“It’s you!”

You paused, the words you were about to say dying in your throat. It was... you? You were the reason he was acting this way? Unease swirled in your stomach.

I’ve been making him feel like this...?

Noctis was almost panting, seeming out of breath from your shouting match. Although he seemed weary, he did not look as if he regretted saying so.

“It’s...me?” You whispered, his answer throwing you completely. Noctis sighed heavily, one hand rising to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. Suddenly he almost seemed... tired.

“Look... that came out wrong, okay? It’s not... it’s not just you.”

“But I... I’ve done something to hurt you?” The crack in her voice at the end of the sentence physically pained him to hear, made him want to take back everything he’d just said. He’d suffer with it all internally if he never had to hear her sound pained again.

“[Name], it’s not something you’ve done. Please, just let it go.” Noctis pleaded, knowing his efforts would more than likely be futile. Slowly he turned away from her, walking once again to the edge of the wooden beams to sit down, dangling his legs only centimeters above the calm lake. Not looking at her made this easier. Her crumpled expression only further pained his heart, and it was getting hard to quell the need to comfort her as it was.

Gentle padding sounds as she walked to sit next to him told him she wasn’t going to give up that easily. Frustrated, he repressed a groan.

Not. Fucking. Fair.

“Noctis...whatever I’ve done, I want to know. It was never my intention to hurt you.”

Of course it wasn’t, pure soul that she was.

Her quiet tone caused him to sneak a peek at her from the corner of his eye. She was sat close to him, legs dangling, an almost mirror of his pose. All traces of previous anger had been washed from her face, instead, confusion and remorse took its place.

He hated that he was responsible for it.

“Honestly, there really isn’t anything you could have done about it. I’m not sure there’s anything anyone could have done about it. My future has been set since day one, I don’t have a say in this stuff... and I sure as hell don’t have a say in who I fall in love with either.”

A quick intake of breath from his immediate right caused him to realise what he’d just said out loud.

Shit!

His head snapped to look at her fully now. She was turned to him, eyes wide in shock as the realisation of what he’d just admitted sunk in. Quickly he began to try and explain.

“[Name], I-”

“That’s not fucking fair.” Her voice was dull as she cut over him. To his surprise, tears quickly gathered in the corner of her eyes which were rapidly becoming tinted with red. She was... really upset. He had been expecting anger. Not sadness.

“That’s really un-fucking-fair of you Noctis. You know... you know how I felt about you. It took a while to get over that rejection.”

“I’m sorr-”

“You don’t get to say that to me now Noctis! I’m with Prompto, I’ve moved on! I picked myself up and carried on living, you can’t just, just waltz back in and say that. It’s not fair!”

“I know.” He uttered, so softly it was as if he was speaking to himself. It was your turn to be surprised at the sadness of his tone. A few moments of silence passed between the both of you, your eyes trained on the almost black waters beneath you. It was hard to really believe what he’d admitted... he loved you?

Noctis broke the silence first with a soft sigh. Well, if the cat was out of the bag, he may as well try and explain himself.

“I tried so hard to stop it. Y’know? I knew it wasn’t fair, believe me, that’s all I’ve been saying these past few months. Not fair on you, Prom, or me. But, [Name],” He took a deep breath; “you’ve no idea how fucking hard it is when I see you cuddled up to him every night.”

Her eyelids fluttered shut as he spoke, a little pucker forming between her brows as she frowned slightly. There it was again, that look of pain. But he couldn’t stop explaining now he’d started, it would be better to get to the bottom of it.

“It’s not like I resent either of you. Honestly, I was happy for the both of you. But I also felt like absolute shit. Took me a while to realise why, guess I’ve never been one to be clued up about their emotions.”

That earned him a slight snort.

“Yeah, guess that’s no secret either, right?” His words were tinged with regret.

Chancing a glance her way he saw that her eyes were still closed. However, she made no move to stop him explaining, so he continued, eager to finally get it out in the open.

“So when I finally realised how I felt about you... well, the fact that it was far too late sucked. And it just got me thinking, if my life wasn’t so predestined, if I had even a little bit of control over areas of my life where I really should, then we’d be together. We’d be together right now [Name]. No pre-arranged wedding duties. And it’s just been eating at me how little of a choice I get over pretty much everything in my life. Then listening to you and Prom giggling and enjoying each other every night... I just wanted that.”

Finally he petered off, letting the weight of what he’d said hang in the air. It was like the burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders - she knew how he felt. He’d told her, in probably the longest speech he’d ever given in his life, and it just felt good to not have it burning him from the inside.

Although that may all go to shit the next time her and Prom start sucking face again. He almost grimaced at the thought.

The seconds ticked by in what felt like hours, she didn’t breath a word. Shyly Noctis turned to face her again, noticing her eyes were finally open, wide and [e/c], staring right back at him. The whites of her eyes were tinged a deeper red, and fresh tears had collected in her lids. His heart almost broke. He wanted to stop the crying, comfort her, take it all back, anything to stop her tears.

Undecidedly, he lifted his hand, fingers outstretched to rest on her shoulder, but froze in mid air.

“[Name], you don’t know how sorry I am.” He whispered, and she replied with a quiet sob from deep in her throat.

Before he knew what he was doing, the one sound caused him to finally reach out to her, close the distance between them. In no time at all, his strong arms were wrapped around her shoulders, her waist. Her head buried in the crook of his neck, holding her close as she sobbed. His fingers rubbed soothing circles into her back as he held her, noticing with a sick, ironic pleasure that they fit together so well. Like his arms had been made to fit her body exactly.

Could this get any worse? He was comforting her.

But she’s not yours.

They fit together perfectly, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together at last.

But she’s not yours.

She was all he wanted. But she wasn’t his to have.

Fuck, this sucks.

Noctis wasn’t sure how long he sat there, holding her. Time truly seemed at a stand still; they were lost in this little hidden part of nature. He wasn’t sure when her tears finally stopped, but he could feel her breathing return to normal, her silent sobs no longer racking her chest. Still, he couldn’t let her go. Didn’t dare move for fear of breaking this moment with her, her face gently buried into the side of his neck, wrapped in his embrace. He knew it would never happen again, despite how much he wanted it.

It couldn’t.

“Noctis?” Her voice was soft, thick from the tears she’d shed.

“Yes?” They were almost whispering, but in the tranquil quiet of the night, the sound seemed to echo in his skull.

“I’m in love with Prompto.”

“I know.” His reply was gentle, but the feeling in his heart was anything but. The admission shouldn’t have been a surprise to him, he’d known it for a while. He could tell just by how she looked at him, the pure adoration for Prom in her heart. It still hurt. He wished she’d look at him like that.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He uttered, one hand absentmindedly reaching up to tuck a stray hair back behind her ear.

“It’s me who should be apologising. To everyone back at camp, but mostly to you. It wasn’t fair for me to dump all of my baggage on you like that. I just... felt I had to.”

“No... I’m glad you did.” She had lowered her voice, and it came out slightly mumbled into his shoulder, but it meant the world to him anyway. It felt like she’d accepted what he said, and that was the best he could hope for right now.

“Thank you [Name].” He whispered, his voice trailing off, leaving what he wished he could say hanging in the air between them both.

I love you. 

[cxmetery-gates]

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER FIVE: COFFEE AND TINDER

SUMMARY: Lynn and Gabriel have a heart-to-heart talk about her last lover, with Gabe offering barely-legal suggestions. WORD COUNT: 2.45k NOTES: Gabe is probably my favorite character WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston, mentions of past relationships, break-up talk, h*tler reference?? never thought i’d write that

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

THE SOUND OF A BELL alerts the classroom that the period is over. Everyone had been already packed and ready to go minutes before Mr. Hiddleston even began wrapping up his lesson. Even when I suffered through chemistry or dragged my deflated soul through finance, I never thought of putting my notes and pens away so soon. I know more than one student saw the icy glare I sent across the room but, most importantly and unfortunately, I also know nearly all of them didn't catch the slight disappointment in Mr. Hiddleston's tone.

I truly despise most people.

From the moment class started, it's been so unmistakably clear how much he loves what he teaches, that he enjoys what he spent thousands of dollars on just to show people how great literature is. I understand that all too well— save the going into debt part. Teachers are often times so mundane with their knowledge, not realizing how the way they present the information affects our understanding and interest in such. This is why high school teachers are stereotyped as people who just want a paid summer vacation. However, Mr. Hiddleston really put effort into his theatrics, like his lecture was a play. People with a teaching degree should teach in this way— why else go penniless willingly? The overall excitement was entertaining. And for that, I have to give the man some credit.

"Alright, guys. We'll be diving into the second part of this lecture tomorrow. Have a good one, you are dismissed." I don't think Mr. Hiddleston needed to announce the last blip of his closing statement. As I said, people are so rude.

Ellie begins to shove her notepad and other items into her bag after our teacher finishes speaking, reminding me of my kind company. I, on the other hand, am scrambling to take the last bit of notes, trying to relay any possible concepts mentioned on to paper. While there might not have been much depth in today's class, jotting down every last tidbit of information could be life or death. Or perhaps I'm just anal-retentive when it comes to note-taking. By the time I finish the note, Ellie is already standing.

"Girl, hurry up. We gotta go!" She drags out the last vowel of the last word humorously.

I wave my hand at her, flipping pages and dodging paper cuts. "Go on without me. I'll be fine," I say, remembering that Ellie's homeroom is on the first floor and the farthest down the hall.

Rolling her big brown eyes, she sighs, walking backward. "I'll miss you poppet. I love you." Her fake British accent is terrible, but I don't bother enlightening her. Perhaps the slight discoloration in her cheeks and how fast she dashed out of the room was due to finding Mr. Hiddleston in ear-shot of her terrible accent. I bite my lip, forcing myself to look away out of sheer second-hand embarrassment.

Once all my belongings are together, I turn to leave.

"That truly was an awful mockery," Mr. Hiddleston says in my direction from the whiteboard. His long toned arms wipe the marker away as I begin to walk past him.

I chuckle. "I'll let her know you said that."

Mr. Hiddleston fakes a groan, placing the eraser on the marker tray then turning to face me with those oh-so-charming eyes. There's no other way to describe them other than mesmerizing. "Oh, don't tell her I said it. I like being liked."

"Being 'liked' is the least of your worries with these girls," I mumble, mostly to humor myself. However, I must have been louder than anticipated. The innuendo is heard and doesn't fly over his head.

A titter of a laugh is heard from the man, and I now regret the words I mumbled. "So I have been told," he replies, making a slightly uncomfortable face. I can't blame him; anyone would feel incredibly awkward if teaching a class full of people who would sell both kidneys just to see them without a shirt.

Not in my dreams would I have imagined having a conversation with Mr. Hiddleston about how everyone wants to nail him. While such a phrase hasn't been explicitly noted, I have a feeling both our minds are in the same gutter. And with that recognition, an awkward heat embraces me. I press my lips together tightly and offer a shrug. "I think the proper thing for me to say is good luck."

Seeming to take my word, Mr. Hiddleston passes me a smile. I can't read what the meaning is, but I'll take it nonetheless with a cough to clear my throat. "Ah, well, as much as I love juicy gossip and scandals, I've got a stuck up prune for homeroom, so I definitely need to get going." I send him a wave, making my exit as awkward as possible.

"Warntz?" He asks.

My nose wrinkles at the name. It eve sounds terrible, almost as terrifying as Trunchbull or Umbridge. "You betcha."

"Good luck, Lynn. You've got two minutes."

I want to give another sassy remark, but the teasing look I find when I look over my shoulder sends my body into another blush. Muttering something close to 'whatever,' I decide that leaving is for the best, even if that means awaiting an angry, shriveled up raisin.

══════════════════

Exiting the high school front doors a few hours before the final bell is like the biggest sigh of relief and 'sucks to be you' to everyone else. An arm wraps around my shoulder, one I embrace kindly.

"So, we've got an hour on our hands," Gabriel reminds me, hinting we'll have to come back to grab Ellie and River. As he speaks, I toss my head back on his toned bicep. I swear he works out too much for an unpopular loser. "What would you like to do?"

I groan, dragging my chin down to my chest. "Why do I have to decide? You know I hate making decisions."

"We're taking second lunch here, Lynn. It isn't life or death, you weirdo," Gabe chortles.

"Can we just go get a coffee? I feel like I'm about to pass out." For effect, I pretend to faint, nearly going complete limp before his arms can hoist me back up.

Rolling his dark eyes, my partner in crime pulls a set of keys from his pocket, swinging the lanyard around his fingers while we head towards a tattered white truck being held together by zip ties, duct tape, and love. "You and Elle with your coffee addiction."

"Could be meth," I retort.

Snorting, Gabe slips a key into the slit on the driver's side. I stand on the opposite, sending a humored smile. "Yeah, as if that's any worse."

We make it to the local coffee shop in no time. Luckily for us, the lunch rush hour in this town ends just as we hit the road if we avoid the main highways that is. Gabe's truck and the coffee shop have a similar aesthetic: crowded, old, falling apart with an overwhelming sense of home and personality. I can't count how many times I've broken down and received well off advice from him in both locations. It feels safe here and being around him. Gabe's like the much older brother (by a month) that I never had. We're both complete, utter assholes to each other about 60% of the time, enforcing the sibling-like bond we have.

"Thank you," I say sweetly to the barista as he places my cold brew in front of me and Gabe's hot chocolate in front of him. Mimicking my gratitude, Gabe gives his thanks as the employee shuffled away, awkwardly patting at his frizzy hair.

We both take a sip and visibly relax. "So, the first day of our last year of high school." Gabe is also the mom friend. "Tell me, dear, how were all your classes?"

"Oh, dearest mother, I feel so content with my choices," I reply with a vintage accent, acting as though my voiced popped in from the 1920s. "How ever will I pick a favorite?"

Wiggling his brows, Gabe replies, "I hear someone landed themselves in the hottest teacher's class."

Prompting to return to my normal voice, I roll my eyes, a huff expelling from my diaphragm. "He's definitely a piece of eye candy, I'll tell you that."

"Took four years to figure that one out? I didn't realize unobservant you are." Taking a pause, Gabe brings to smirk widely. "Maybe that's why you haven't asked River out yet."

My eyes grow wide, my skin goes red. Looking at anywhere other than Gabe's eyes and smirking lips is a must. "I don't know—"

"Lynn, everyone knows."

"Sure, but he doesn't." I pause. "Wait, does he?"

"Dude, no, of course, he doesn't. He still thinks you're heartbroken over Trinity."

Ah, yes, Trinity. Who knew a happy year and two months could be wholly demolished beyond reconciliation in a single weekend? Certain not I, as I have spent the past three months moving on and over the ordeal. An annoyed grunt leads my cheek to rest in my fist. "He thinks I'm not over it?"

Gabe leans forwards. "None of us do, Lynn."

I stay silent.

"What happened... you didn't deserve that. Hell, Hitler wouldn't have deserved that. Probably."

"Weeeeell—"

"Point is, I know you're still trying to find a way to heal. You've done a damn good job, duh. But River thinks you're still in love with her."

"Ugh. I'd rather eat hairy horse shit than see her ever again."

Gabriel nods, "I was hoping that would be the case."

Knocking my knuckles on the wooden table, I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Man, I'm tired."

"You know we're all here for you, right?" Gabe asks, leaning in just a few inches. I want to roll my eyes, tell him that he worries too much, but I can't. I can't tell him, not because I want him to shut up or to change the topic, but because he knows me. To Gabe, I'm an open book.

I run out of words to say relating to the topic. The breakup is old news, everything following the incident becoming irrelevant memories and irreplaceable time. I'm kidding myself when I say I've moved on entirely because Gabriel is right: I haven't. Sometimes my thoughts get stuck on what I could have done better or what I should have done to convince her to stay. Despite these annoying blips, I know deep down that it was inevitable, that her consistent cheating and the emotional manipulation would only surface for everyone to see in due time. If they hadn't— which I tried to keep from happening— I have a gut-wrenching feeling I'd still be in the situation. I had a feeling Trinity and me wouldn't last, but it wasn't until after things ended did I realize how well she had me wrapped around her finger. It's taken months to find my way out of her web, but I now face the scary journey of recovery. Thankfully, the process has not been as hard as I anticipated. After all, living two cities away certainly helps.

"Yeah, I know. I'm still going through the motions. I just want it to speed up, you know?"

Smirking and pulling his hand back, Gabriel replies, "Maybe a Tinder will help?"

My nose wrinkles at the mere consideration. Hooking up, dating apps, meeting strangers behind a phone— not really my thing. "Nah, I'll pass on that offer, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"Hmm, maybe I'll look into a sugar daddy site. Money from older men might make me feel a bit better."

Gabriel takes a sip of his hot chocolate, grinning. "Well, you have an interesting way with teachers. If you're struggling in a particular class, maybe that little fantasy of yours will come true."

"Oh yes, I can't wait to hop on Mr. Riley's seventy-year-old dick."

"Mhmm, yummy."

At this, I bark into a laughing-while-painfully-cringing fit. Never being a fan of the phrase "yummy" and having it tied to a man that's so old he's basically decaying, I find every part of this new conversation revoltingly hilarious. I guess my sudden outburst of laughter caught Gabe off guard, staring at me with a shocked grin and fixing the infamous beanie he wears. I couldn't count how many times I've seen him without; you can't count to zero.

"It really wasn't that funny," he says with a small hiccup of laughter in his voice.

I settle myself now that I feel the eyes of everyone in the coffee shop staring. "You're right, but something about it made me crack." I flip my phone over to check the time. "Should we be getting back? They've got twenty minutes left."

Gabe nods and lets out a content sigh. "Yeah, I guess so."

We decide to chug the rest of our beverages quickly— now room temperature and not as satisfying— before heading back out into the world. Away in the parking lot, the truck seems to beckon us to its forty-year-old, duct-tape-bound seats. As Gabe unlocks the truck doors, I let out a content sign and stare up at the sky. Above, the sun beams down on us and, like an idiot, I managed to look directly into it. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust but by that point, a dark cloud rolled over the blinding, distant star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

TAGLIST:

@khadineberry​

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, LET ME KNOW!

[imaginesforyourfandom]

Believe Me - Christen Press Imagine

A/N: This is for @gaaysatan​. Just because I love her.

(Y/N) POV:

“Wake up” I groaned when I felt someone continuously shaking my shoulder. I turned to whack their hand away when they caught my arm and pulled me out of the bed. “I’m serious.”

“Pinoe go away.” I said as she pulled more out of the bed. “Stop!”

“You need to get up! We have a game today.” I sat up and pouted at her as she shook her head with a smile.

I got up from the bed and headed towards the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. Once I had got all my stuff together, I headed down towards breakfast with Pinoe. I walked in and headed towards the table that had Ash, Ali, Alex, Kelley, Allie, Christen and Tobin. I took a seat in between Alex and Christen.

I smiled at both forwards as I stood to go get a plate of food for myself. The game talks were in full effect as I came and sat back down.

“Who’s in the starting eleven again?” Ash asked as we started discussing the lineup. Alex was dealing with a minor ankle injury so Christen would be starting in her place. I was starting which was a great. I was going to get to play on the wing in Pinoe’s place. Usually, I was pushed back a little more.

“You good?” I looked up to see everyone staring at me.

“What? Sorry. I zoned out.” I said as some of them smiled.

“We asked how you feel about starting…” Ash said as I nodded my head

“Oh, I feel good.” I said smiling as they all shook their heads at me. We went through breakfast pretty quickly after that and then sat around for a few minutes before we had to leave.

“Hey, can I talk to you real quick?” I turned towards Christen giving her a smile and nod. She took a breath I noticed out of the corner of my eye Pinoe and Tobin giving her a thumbs up.

“What’s up?” I asked as we walked together. She looked really nervous as I paused and stared at her with a look of concern.

“I need to tell you something, but I don’t know how you’ll react, and I don’t want it to ruin our friendship at all. I just…need to tell you before I lose my mind.”

“Okay…”

“I have feelings for you.” She said as I stared at her with my jaw falling open a little.

Let’s stop the music for a second…it is no secret on the team that I have the biggest crush on Christen Press. I mean…how could you not? Have you seen her? Anyway, I was almost 110% sure that she knew damn well I had a crush on her and I was truly fine with her not feeling the same way. This feels like a curveball.

“Umm…what?” I stared at her as she gave me a nervous expression.

“I have feelings for you.” She said firmly as I looked around for a moment before pointing at myself.

“Me?” she nodded her head with an amused expression. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure.” She laughed as I stared at her feeling overwhelmed. I was trying to come up with something else to say. I wanted to tell her that I feel the same way, but honestly this conversation does not feel real. I need a second to think.

“I…will be back.” I said turning and walking away.

“Wait…(Y/N)…” I turned the corner and immediately booked it in search of literally anyone else. I kept walking before I found Kelley, Alex, and Allie walking. They were headed towards the bus as I ran past them grabbing Alex’s arm and pulling her with me.

“Ow!” she said as I pulled her onto the bus. I dragged her all the way until we got to the seats she usually sit with Allie in. I took a seat as I stared at her. I could hear some of the other girls laughing at my antics as she gave me a look. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Christen just told me she has feelings for me” I said as Alex stared at me her eyes widening a little.

“What?” I nodded my head as she smiled

“(Y/N) that’s great.” She said as I shook my head.

“No” I said as she gave me an odd look.

“Why is it not great?” she asked as I bit my lip. “What did you do?”

“I panicked said I would be back and came and found you.” I said as she gave me a incredulous look.

“Are you stupid? You just left her standing there.”

“I panicked!” I said defensively as she started slapping my arm.

“You’re!” slap. “So!” slap. “Stupid!” slap.

“OW! Stop” I said as she glared at me.  “Stop hitting me! I know I messed up.”

“(Y/N) she definitely is going to think you feel the same.” She said sarcastically as I frowned.

“I just…I panicked. I’ve got to a point that I’ve accepted that she won’t feel the same and so when she said she did I just…panicked.”

“You need to go find her and apologize.” She said as I glanced up. I watched as Christen came on to the bus and immediately found her seat with Tobin. She didn’t even look in my direction. I sighed knowing I needed to fix this.

“I love her Alex.” I mumbled as she gave me a somewhat sympathetic look.

“I know. You should have told her that.” I looked at her before looking down.

“It didn’t feel real. I have got to a point that I believed truly she would never feel the same way. I want to believe that she does and even though she said it my mind is still struggling to accept it.” I said as she nodded her head.

“I know but you have to take the chance…if she is saying that she does then you have to trust that she does.” I nodded my head as I noticed that everyone was on the bus. We made our way to the stadium for the game.

I realized I probably wouldn’t have time to talk to Christen privately until after the game, which was fine, but I felt bad knowing that she probably thinks I don’t feel the same. That hurts my heart a little bit. Pre-game seemed to drag on a little before it was time to walk out for the game. As I had guessed, Christen and I had no chance to really talk before the game, so it was me mostly trying to send pointed looks at her, but she was outright refusing to look at me.

“You good?” JJ asked me as I stared at her.

“As good as I can be.” I mumbled as we then walked out for the game.

Once the game started, I could tell immediately felt off. Most of the first half seemed to drag with me not being able to really connect at all with Christen. She was able to get some shots off and to be honest she was carrying us in this game. When does she not though…

By halftime, I was being told that I was most definitely being subbed out due to the terrible game I was having. The second half seemed to be a little better with Christen getting a brace and JJ also getting in on the scoring. It finished 3-0 as I was pulled to do media. I wasn’t thrilled because no doubt I would have to explain my poor performance.

After I was done with the media, I went in search of Christen. I saw her talking to Alex and their conversation seemed to be serious, so I decided to just leave them be and go sign autographs and visit with the fans. That lasted a lot longer than I originally anticipated because it was time to leave before I realized it. I practically ran into the locker room grabbing all of my things much to the amusement of my teammates.

“I’m here. I’m here. Don’t leave me.” I said running onto the bus and finding a seat next to Alex. Most of them laughed a little as Alex shook her head at me.

“Way to be on time.”

“I was frolicking with the fans.” I responded as she laughed.

“Frolicking?” she raised her brow at me as I smiled at her.

“I don’t actually know what that words means…I heard Becky use it though, so I figured it meant something smart.” I shrugged as she and some of the other girls started laughing.

“Idiot.”

The bus ride back to the hotel was spent with Alex teasing me over my word choice and pestering me over why I played so bad. Once back at the hotel, I beelined it for my hotel room to get myself cleaned up. Once I was done, I decided I needed to go find Christen. Just as I opened the door to exit the room, I noticed the forward standing there with a nervous look on her face.

“Hey.” I said softly as she gave me a thin smile.

“Hi”

“Come in” I said moving aside as she walked into the room. “I was just about to go find you.”

“You were?” she gave me a doubtful look as I nodded.

“Yeah. I wanted to explain earlier.” I bit my lip nervously hoping she would hear me out. “I shouldn’t have left you standing there. That was a huge douche move.”

“Yeah a little bit.” She responded as I stared at her.

“I find it really hard to believe you have feelings for me…not because I think you’re lying, but because I have liked you for so long and have convinced myself that you could never feel the same way. The idea of you actually feeling the same…it just doesn’t feel real.”

“I know.” I gave her a confused look as she sighed. “Alex told me. Don’t be mad at her. She was just trying to help.”

“oh”

“My feelings are genuine.” She said as I nodded my head. “I have liked you for a while and I didn’t really know how to deal with it at first, but I know I want to be with you. I need you to be believe me”

“I do. I want that too.” I mumbled quietly as she gave me another look of uncertainty.

She stared at me for a moment before taking a step closer to me, she grabbed my face and very softly placed her lips on mine. I immediately responded by pulling her closer and melting into the kiss. Her fingers buried themselves into the back of my hair as the kiss deepened a little. Eventually, air was a necessity as we leaned our foreheads against each other.

“I like you so much.” I mumbled as she laughed a little. She brought her hand to my face

“I like you so much too.” I looked at her as she softly ran her thumb against my cheek.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled again as she smiled at me. She gave me another short kiss.

“I know.” She moved closer pulling me in for a hug as her head rested against my shoulder.

“Can I take you on a date?” I asked quietly as she let out a little laugh.

“I would love nothing more than to go out on a date with you.” I pulled away a little shooting her a wide smile.

“Like tonight?” She nodded her head as I immediately started thinking of places to take her. I would need to do some checking into local restaurants.

“What time should I be ready?” I checked my watch and saw it was about 10 pm.

“Can you be ready in like half an hour?” she gave me a small look before nodding her head. “Okay. Then, you go get ready and I am going to get ready and then we will meet back in 30 minutes.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She kissed my cheek before exiting the room. I stood for a moment before doing a little dance with myself.

“I have a date with Christen Press.” I muttered before realizing the time and running to get ready. This needed to be the best date ever. Nothing less for Christen.

The End.

[skvaderarts]

Happy Holidays everyone! For once in my life, I’m actually geting a holiday post out on the day of the actual holiday! Can you believe that because I know I can’t! Anyways, I stayed up until 7 am on Christmas morning to get this done, so I hope you like it!

It’s about time Vergil got some love, damn it!

READ BELOW (Hiden to save long post scrolling sanity)

P1: To Reciprocate What Was Given

Note: In an attempt to get something DMC related prepared on time for once to celebrate a major holiday, I stayed up until 6 am on Christmas Eve night to get this done. This is just a short introspective dabble to celebrate the festivities. It takes place in my AU, but that honestly has very little bearing on what's going on overall, but you can think of it as a follow up to my one-shot "The Rest is Silence" as having read that first will make this more enjoyable since it references an event in that fic. You can find it on my Ao3 page. There will be a part two for New Years that will hopefully be a little longer, but for now, happy holidays and enjoy the short.

If anyone had told him that one day he and Dante would be sitting in the living room of the Devil May Cry office surrounded by friends and family who were eager to celebrate the holidays with them, he would have thought them insane. He and Dante had not fostered a healthy relationship with one another their entire adult lives. Why would the holidays change this? If anything, the occasion seemed, at first glance, to be a perfect opportunity to drudge through the bottomless lake of bad memories and regrets that the twins shared collectively between them; a perfect opportunity for misery and suffering. And yet the only thing at this party that could pass for true misery was V trying to get into a festive mood and not grow like moss on the wall in the far corner. Parties just were not his thing, regardless of how comfortable he was with the people involved.

No, Vergil was almost having a good time tonight. Not quite of course. Joy was utterly beyond him at this point. But he was, daresay, content with the way things were going at present. Nero and Kyrie had hauled Kyle, Carlo, and Julio with them from Fortuna, Lady showed up to show off her new outfit, Trish had just about physically dragged V to the house from his comfortable perch on his couch at home, Patty had stopped in to drench the house in awful neon pink adorned gifts, and Morrison had stopped by to wish everyone a pleasant holiday and drop off a purposefully ironic fruit cake that absolutely no one was going to eat. Ok, V was going to eat it because he was peculiar, but he didn't count for that very reason. But that was beside the point.

For the first time in what had to be the better part of his life, Vergil had nothing notable to concern himself with. Kyrie had made dinner, the children were keeping Nero busy, the girls were fulfilling their new roles as pseudo wine aunts, and V was... well to everyone's shock, he was helping Kyrie cook dinner. No word yet on his capabilities. Vergil had survived in the underworld for nearly two decades. V's aforementioned cooking skills (or possible lack thereof) wouldn't be the end of him. Maybe he was content with the presence of his children, or just so tired of pizza that anything would suffice at this point. At this moment, he honestly didn't care. This was the first time he had a reason to acknowledge the holidays since he was the age of Nero's oldest child, and that was quite literally a lifetime ago.

At that moment, something stirred him from his idle thoughts. He glanced over at Dante who was sitting reasonably close to him on the couch. And by reasonably close that meant sitting on the same couch to start with. His younger twin had slumped over on the arm of the sofa, sleeping as if to actively defy the ambiance in the large, festivity filled room. He was not the source of this sudden change in the space's atmosphere. Vergil pivoted his gaze back around to the floor in front of him and mentally chastised himself for somehow managing to overlook someone standing so close to him.

It was V.

The slender young man stood before him with his back to the rest of the guests in the room, a look somewhere between anxiety and anticipation on his face. For someone so akin to a wordsmith, he was clearly searching for the right words. His change in demeanor wasn't so much obvious as his mannerisms were easy for Vergil to pick up on. It took the perceptive eye of a nonverbal recluse to read another with any degree of ease, and he had always had a knack for this sort of thing. He couldn't be sure if it was the number of people crammed into the building, the lack of private places to retreat to, of the awful sweater that Trish had somehow blackmailed V into wearing, but the younger descendant of Sparda was noticeably crawling in his skin.

Just as Vergil was going to ask the white-haired poet what he wanted, he retracted his arm from behind his back and produced an overly wrapped gift. The box was clad in shiny metallic navy blue and gold wrapping paper, bound with gold and silver weapon, and topped with a black bow, a set of color choices that did not go unnoticed by the eldest son of Sparda. Vergil cocked his neck to the side thoughtfully as he took in the sight of the box. What on Earth...

"... May I join you...?" V gestured towards the plethora of open space between Dante and Vergil as the couch was longer than the most.

Vergil gestured towards the space with a silent tilt of his head, still taking in the fact that this situation was actually happening. After taking a seat and managing to retreat even further into himself than he already had up until this point, V handed Vergil the neatly wrapped box and leaned forward, clasping his hands together in his lap. Vergil accepted the gift and turned it over in his hands a few times as if he were trying to memorize every fold of the paper and centimeter of ribbon. It was almost a shame to take apart something so flawless.

Vergil dismantled the wrapping paper at the seams, deliberately taking it apart with the same precision and care that had gone into wrapping it. This somehow flattered and terrified V in equal measure, and he was starting to get the impression that Vergil was trying to elicit this very reaction from him. When he finished unwrapping the box, he opened the box and stared.

Inside of the box was an ornate metal covered book with Sparda's sigil inlaid into the cover. slotted into a label window was a rectangular piece of parchment paper with the words "family photo album" scrawled into it. He could tell by the weight that Vergil moved to open the book and then hesitated, unsure if this was the correct time before electing to simply open the cover. The first page contained a photograph of an all too familiar family painting and superimposed into the inside cover was a quote in what could only be Sparda's handwriting.

"Amor vincit omnia.

Improvidus, apto, quod, Victum.

Citius, altius, forties."

Vergil sighed and closed the book, placing it down onto his lap. "... Where did you get this?"

V gestured across the room towards Nero. "We were delving into the ruins of Redgrave, and Nero managed to find your childhood home. This was in the remnants of what I think was a Library. I can only assume it has otherworldly properties, considering the number of fires it has survived. I suppose we both found, though it was never truly lost. Consider it a gift from us both, though I am not sure it was ever ours to give."

He considered V's words for a moment before looking back down at the book again as if to make sure it was real. He would have to reminisce over this with Dante when he woke up. "Thank you. This is..."

Kyrie cut in from the kitchen, shouting something about whatever dubious project the two of them had been concocting together under the guise of cuisine. V nodded thoughtfully and stood, politely excusing himself to go attend to his prior engagement. "You don't have to tell me. I understand." He gestured towards Nero and then towards Dante. "Tell them."

As V exited to room, Vergil made eye contact with Nero from across the room. He gave a simple, appreciative nod towards his son, thoroughly perplexing him before turning towards Dante. His hand lingered over him for a moment before he elected to wake him. The younger twin sat up groggily and stretched, clearly unamused. "Vergil, what's your pr-"

Vergil extended the hand that held the book out towards him, stopping Dante dead in his tracks. "A gift. It might be worth your time, brother."

Dante stared at it and shook his head in disbelief. "You know what? It just might, Vergil. Maybe there's some pictures of you looking like a dumbass in there that I can laugh at."

Vergil rolled his eyes and smirked ever so slightly. Of course he would say that.

End Note: I guess this turned out to be longer than I originally figured it would be. I wrote all of this in a grammar checker, but I'll do a second edit run when I've actually slept. I'm sure I've missed something. And as for that Latin bit, each line is a quote. I won't ruin the surprise for you. Go check it out! Happy Holidays and thank you for an amazing year of support for an amazing franchise! I can't wait to see what 2020 has in store for us!

And yes, Nico was at the party. She was just hiding in the kitchen with Kyrie!

[gremlinkweenarchive-blog]

Death of a Salesman Pt. 2

Summary: You were picked up by the salesman and now he’s all you know.

A/N: Can you fucking believe that I actually finished this two parter???? Neither can I tbh, but it’s finally here! Anyway, this is fucking wild and not proof read because in this house we die like men. And this is also a shoutout to @travel-sell-repeat for being the best and their interruption may have influenced this jfkldsfj

Other Parts: Part 1

Warnings: dirty talking, degradation, bondage, wax play, anal stuff, pussy slapping, fire play, spanking, rough sex, squirting, and aftercare

Word Count: 3.0 k

Tagging List: @langdonsinferno, @ccodyfern, @americanhorrorstudies, @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul, @codyfernss, @sojournmichael, @langdonsoceaneyes, @wroteclassicaly, @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning​, and @n30n-dreams

 You never quite understood how you never understood how the Salesman traveled. It seemed like you were one place, then the next, with no memory of how things transpired. This time it was even worse as you were barely conscious from the encounter at the bar. You were laid in the bed, it creaking under your weight, and then the weight of the Salesman as he climbed on top of you. 

"What a gorgeous slut you are," he praised as his lips ghosted over the delicate skin of you neck, his hot breath tickling you. "You took that stranger with everything you had, and yet you still only got off when I strangled you. What a beautiful little pet you are. I made the right call picking you up on the side of the road and keeping you." 

You mewled at the sensation and his words, but even you couldn't will your eyes to focus on anything. Your hands roamed his back though, needing to feel contact with him, needing to confirm he was real, that he was real and you belonged to him. In this moment, you realized you were fucked. You truly belonged to this mysterious man, and you didn't even know his name. All you knew is that you would fuck other men, do whatever the hell he told you, just to be touched like this. Just to hear those words whispered to you again. 

"My dirty, filthy bitch will do anything for me, won't you?" It was like he could read your mind, and you shuddered. He was kissing your neck nome, something soft and kind before he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck. Hips crashed together as you let out a tired yelp, but it felt so damn good to be marked like this. Your over-sensitized core was burning, and the cum that was clinging to your dress and thighs didn't help at all. 

His mouth continued the assault on your neck, the kisses and bites were certainly going to turn your neck into a perverted version of Starry Night, but you could hardly care. All you were concerned with the feeling of this man's lips against your skin. That's all you could ever want. 

He smirked, it was less of a smirk actually and more of a feral grin as the thoughts of what he'd do to you filtered through his mind, "Oh, my darling, I have a reward for you tonight." It was a terrifying and exciting thing all at once. 

The dress was slipped off your form, and your bra was quickly removed, leaving you bare before his eyes, his favorite sight. He was tearing at his tie, having little patience for things that weren't deriving some kind of pain or pleasure from you. It was off his neck ,and he was looping it around your wrists, pulling it tight. A whimper fell from your lips from the the fabric digging into your wrists and the anticipation welling in your core. It was impossible to tell what he was planning, but you were sure it was going to be blissful torture. 

With a tug at the tie, he secured her wrists to the bed, no way for you to get out of that without him letting you go. He went to the briefcase, somehow pulling candles out to light and set around the motel room. This somehow seemed entirely too romantic for him, and you were beginning to have your suspicions as to his motives for this. 

He came back to you, grinning down at you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and he sighed. There was some tenderness, and while you welcomed it, it always made you nervous when he got tender this early in the night. It was a way to disarm you, make you feel safe, only to yank that comfort from out under you. Nothing gave him more satisfaction than to see that betrayal on your face. 

"You've been such a good little pet tonight," he was stroking your cheek, and it was hard not to let your eyes flutter shut and melt into the sensation, "I'm going to bring you to new heights tonight, I promise." You were so distracted by this words that you didn't notice the other of his hands reaching for the candle by the bed. 

It was a shock to feel the hot wax spill onto your neck and down your chest as it cooled. You cried out in pain and shock and all you could hear from the salesman was a bout of chuckles. "I'm just getting started, little one." 

He grabbed you ankle, holding your leg up to pour more wax, watching as it spread down, taking note of wear it stopped. He left only briefly to grab another candle that had more built up waiting to torture you with. He grabbed the other leg, smiling in twisted satisfaction as it rolled down nearly to your dripping cunt, mixing in with the drying semen on her thighs. You were trembling, but now all the wax did was serve to make you pant. 

"You are truly a beautiful mess, Y/N," he laughed. 

You whimpered in response, not trusting your voice with this. With another tilt of his wrist, he was pouring wax over her neck, making a pained groan leave your throat but your legs were rubbing together, trying to get some form of friction. He watched the delicate skin turn to a bright shade of red underneath and around the wax. What a delightful sight. 

There was another predatory grin, a hint to the sadistic idea that formed in his head. "Oh, my love, are you feeling a little neglected?" He put down the candle and grabbed another, "Do you need a bit more stimulation?" He wretched her legs open and poured the wax down on your mound, watching the wax drip down onto your folds. Your back arched at the pain sensation, crying out, pleading for relief, but both of you knew that you loved this. This was more of a reward than either one of you could ever put into words. 

He was proud of you, being so needy for him when he was dealing out cruelty. Oh, you didn't even know the half of this. You were just a little plaything to him, but his most beloved and prized plaything. He flipped you over easily, pouring wax down your back and humming in delight at your groans. 

This was going to be fun. "Pet, I don't want you making anymore sounds until I tell you." She stiffened and he was living for that. He was giving her an impossible task, and they both knew it because they both loved what came of that. 

He was doing something behind your back, and you couldn't guess what it was, no idea what he was planning. It really could have been anything. That was until you felt something cool and slick being lathered between your cheeks. A finger moved to press against the tight hole and you had to bite your lip. It was going to be that kind of night. A second finger was added, then a third, for good measure. The stretch was taking everything in you not to cry out, biting the motel pillows to keep the sounds at bay. 

A sharp crack came across your ass, "That's cheating, pet." It was a warning, you knew. You let go, having to settle for biting your lip. He was really testing you tonight. 

Next, came the cool metal pressing against your newly stretched hole. Even though he prepared you for it, it still hurt. You back arched and there was blood pearling on your lip at it's widest part before the plug finally seated itself in you and you could breathe for a moment. 

Suddenly, you were flipped over, and you lost your composure. The sudden movement with the thick plug in you had a brand new wave of arousal falling from you, mixing with the wax, and it was too much. You moaned, your legs rubbing together to get some friction. 

A frown of disapproval and he tsked. "You can't even keep a simple command. What am I going to do with you?" He was wrenching your legs apart again and he delivered a sharp slap to your cunt, like how he woke you up this morning, yet harder, more unforgiving. It was three strikes in quick succession and tears were springing to your eyes. The only saving grace here was that it hurt too much to make a sound. 

"Don't you dare make another sound, am I clear?" He sneered, something dangerous in his eyes, and you swear you could cum right then and there. 

You nodded your head and his expression softened. "Good girl." 

He pulled you so that your core was just over the edge of the bed, the motion almost enough to make you break the command again, but you bit your lip and kept strong. The new position made you have to support your own weight. You had no idea what he was planning on doing, but you knew he wasn't done. That would be too easy. He pulled something out of his pocket and waved it in front of your face. 

It was his lighter. His nice, fancy, engraved zippo. 

No, you thought, wanting to gasp, but you didn't dare do that, not now. 

He flicked the lighter on and waved the flame in your face, letting the fire heat you up. Your eyes were wide and he could see the apprehension. He flicked the lid over and stroked your hair softly. "Don't you worry, baby girl. You'll like what I have planned for you." 

You trusted him, and that's all you had in this moment, the tie was digging into your wrists and there weren't many other options for you in this moment. 

Kneeling in between you legs, you heard the light flick open and you just focused on your breathing, not sure what to expect.

Then it happened. There was a heat, something soft and soothing, running back and forth on your thighs. It was pleasant and you relaxed into the bed. 

That was a mistake. You felt the flame get closer to your skin, and closer, then it was licking your skin. You jumped and the movement made the plug massage your inner walls. It made you light headed but you were being good, no noises. 

There was a hand on your thigh, "Steady now, you're doing good. I want you to try to resist the urge to flinch away, okay?" 

Another nod. 

He repeated that process over and over again, climbing higher on each side, and each time letting the flame lick and touch your skin longer but for an equal amount of time on each side. Your breathing was getting ragged. It was getting harder and harder to stay quiet. He finally reached the top of your right thigh, letting the flame sit there, and sit there, and sit there until you are squirming to get away. You can feel how raw and sensitive the skin is, and it's still hot, even when he moves the lighter away. 

Holding you down, he does the same thing to your left thigh, but it's too much. Tears are springing to your eyes and you cry out, the painful process too much. He keeps it there until you're sobbing and finally then he grants you relief. 

"What did I say, babygirl?" His tone was even, but you didn't trust it. You knew you were in trouble. 

"Not to make a sound until you told me I could," you answered, steadying yourself, trying to stop the tears. 

"That's right," he was stroking the outside of your thigh, in thought of what to do with you. "Alright," he finally decided on something, "I know what to do with you." 

With that, he was flipping you over again, careful with the raw skin in between your legs. You heard the clink of his belt and you knew what was coming. 

He hummed, "You know darling," he ran his hand across the bare skin of your ass, then tugging at the plug just to tease you, making your toes curl, "I should make you be silent for this, but I'm feeling generous tonight. Anyway, I don't feel like being here all night because you can't keep your mouth shut. Go ahead, darling, make as much noise as you need to." 

There was a crack of leather, making you jump, but he only laughed, he was messing with you. 

Finally, the sting of the leather against your skin happened, making you call out. You could just feel his enjoyment at your pain as he cracked the leather down, twice in quick sensation. A weak scream left your lips, and the to the salesman, it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard. 

It was one hit after another, no mercy for your whatsoever. The tears had returned and you were sobbing into the mattress. Only then, did he give you a reprieve. He gently massaged the raw skin and soothed you. 

"That's it, darling. You're okay, Y/N. You've been a good girl for me tonight. You can go ahead and cum as many times as you want." 

He turned you over to face him for the last time tonight. He looked so amused, even a bit proud at the way you took the pain he dealt out. He knew he put you through the works tonight. You took his pain, now it's time for his pleasure. He released your hands from their bindings, allowing you to latch onto his shoulders. He hiked your legs up around his waist, thumbs moving over the raw skin on the inside of your thighs, making you groan.

There was no trouble slipping inside you, your slick was already coating your thighs, and with a fast and rough thrust, the salesman was seated fully inside you. Your head fell back with a high pitched moan. You felt so full you could split between his thick length and the plug inside of you. With every little movement of his hips, it reminded you of the bright red and pick skin of your thighs, irritating it more and only serving to excite you more. 

The pace was set fast and hard, he knew you didn't need any buildup, your body was ready. It was barely a minute into it before your walls were fluttering over his cock. He groaned loudly as your moans filled the room. It felt like heaven, but he wasn't done with your body. His hips continued to snap into yours, not letting you rest for even a moment. 

You were in a daze, the pleasure, the overstimulation, the pain from your burns, it was too much, but all the salesman cared about was fucking into you harder and faster. The pace was brutal and animalistic, and there was sweat forming on his forehead, but the fucked out expression on your face and the little gasps leaving your mouth as enough to spur him on. 

He angled his hips a bit differently, just hitting that spot inside you spot on, making you moan, begging him. What for? You weren't sure, but you were begging him. There was a pressure building up inside you, something you weren't used to. 

His thrusts were getting a little sloppy, you could tell he was getting closer, so his fingers came between where the two of you were connected and started rubbing your clit harshly. "Come on, baby. I want you to cum one last time on my cock, I know you can." 

The words, hitting your g-spot, and the harsh circles on your clit was too much, you felt that coil rise and snap all over again, more intensely than ever before. You felt that pressure leave you with force, and you heard a strangled groan come from your salesman. 

Warmth filled your core, and a blissed out smile formed on your face at feeling his seed fill you so completely. It was heaven. The next thing you became aware of was how wet the bed was. 

You looked down in alarm and your cheeks started flaring a pink. 

"Holy fuck, you came all over me," he groaned, running a finger through the liquid. He looked up with a smile. "I'll have to work to make that happen again." 

That made you feel better, but as soon as he started pulling from you, you whimpered. Your skin was on fire and everything was tender and sore. 

He hushed you, "Don't worry, darling. Let me take care of you. Just lie back." 

You did was he said, and he was throwing on a fresh pair of underwear and leaving with the room's icebox in a flash. He came back with it full, and he sat it down for just a moment. He grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, and some clothes for you. He cleaned you off gently, taking care not to scrape the raw skin of your thighs. Twisting your form slightly, he gently pulled the plug out of you and there was a great sense of relief.

Helping you to stand, the salesman was slipping a pair of soft sweats on you and slipping a tank top over your head. He was satisfied with his work and lifted you effortlessly to set you on the other side of the bed. He went to the ice bucket and tied off the bag inside before putting that in between your legs to relieve the burns. You sighed in the pleasant feeling. 

He was satisfied with his work, and he was crawling into bed, pulling you on top of him. He kissed the top of your head and you smiled into his skin. 

"Are you okay, darling?" His voice sincere. 

"I'm just perfect, thank you." 

[moonstruckbucky]

Don’t Stay

SUMMARY:  PLZ BILLY HARGROVE ANGST. He makes a mistake by sleeping with another girl because he's scared of how much he's changing for you. And tries to prove that he doesn't want the player life anymore

PAIRING: Billy Hargrove x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

WARNINGS: Language, angst, angst, angst

He had no idea why he’d done it, had no idea how he even thought he could get away with it. Sara Christensen had a mouth like a largemouth bass, and even he knew word would get around school on Monday and spread like wildfire.

It was why, when you inevitably found out, he had nothing to say to you as he stood on your doorstep after school on Wednesday. You didn’t know what to say either; your head was void of all thought and emotion, but inside your chest, your heart was cleaved in two.

He at least had the nerve to look sorry; in fact, he looked absolutely distraught over what he did. His hair was mussed and his eyes were ringed in red, suggesting he spent quite some time crying over his stupid fucking mistake. A mistake that most definitely wasn’t worth losing you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled, hanging head low. He raked his hands through his curly blond locks, tugging at them in distress. “I don’t even have a good fucking excuse. I’m just...so sorry.”

You could tell he was being sincere; you’d come to know him pretty well and you wanted to believe he had changed. In some ways, he had, such as keeping his anger in check. He no longer flew off the handle quite so quickly, choosing instead to take a few deep breaths before proceeding. He didn’t fight quite as often either, and you were proud every time he chose to walk away. However, it was clear that his issues with commitment hadn’t changed, and that broke your heart. Not just for you, but for him as well.

“Okay,” was all you said before you closed the door in his face. Billy’s face crumpled, and the worst pain he’d ever felt in his life exploded in his chest. It was worse than any of Neil’s blows or jabs at how he was a constant disappointment. The one good thing he had in his life was gone, and it was all his fault.

Billy walked dejectedly back to his car, his shoulders slumped and head bowed. The slamming of a door made him look up towards your bedroom window. It was wide open, giving him full access to hear the agonizing wail that left your mouth as you knocked a few items off your desk in rage and heartbreak. It killed him to see you react that way to something he did; he never wanted to see that look on your face as you sat on your bed, crying heavily.

He watched you for a few minutes, his heart sinker lower and lower into his gut, until he felt like a huge creep and got into his car and drove away. He didn’t go home; instead, he went out to Lover’s Lake, where the two of you spent your fourth date, and he’d taken your virginity in the backseat of his Camaro. It hadn’t been exactly how you wanted it to go, but when he asked you to be his, it made it all worth it.

You thought you’d tamed the untameable Billy Hargrove. What a fucking joke.

You woke up the next morning like you had a hangover. Your head was sore, and your eyes were puffy from all the crying into your pillow you did, until you realized it smelled like Billy and hurled it across the room. Your chest felt like it was on fire; you hadn’t imagined heartbreak would feel like this, but you fell for Billy harder than you anticipated. Once he let you in, he made it easy. The Billy you got to see outside of school was a complete opposite to the front he put on for his friends; he was sweet, and genuinely funny, and even a bit cheesy in the horrible pick-up lines he’d murmur into your bare skin was he was in one of his rare goofy moods. He was still possessive as hell, giving other guys a threatening glare if they so much as blinked in your direction, and you never walked without at least an arm over your shoulder or a hand in your back pocket. It was a classic telltale sign that you belonged to Billy, and only to Billy.

Normally you’d balk at the idea of belonging to any man, but you were irrevocably and unapologetically his, and you didn’t mind it in the least, because he was just as much yours.

Well, until Sara Christensen decided she wanted a taste of him.

The name sat bitterly in the back of your head as you sluggishly got ready for school. You’d slept like shit anyways, awake at 4 AM, so you used the extra time to make yourself up as if you hadn’t been ugly-crying into your sheets a few hours earlier. When you finished, you looked normal; the bags under your eyes were hidden by concealer, your red-rimmed eyes lined in eyeliner and mascara, and a pretty shade of caramel eyeshadow coated your lids. For the hell of it, you swiped on some burgundy lipstick. Fake it till you make it.

Your outfit was a pair of form-fitting jeans, your tennis shoes, and a pretty floral blouse. You’d be damned if you let anyone see how truly broken up you were over Billy Hargrove. With this new outlook in mind, you left for the school, arriving thirty minutes before the first bell was supposed to ring.

You sat at a bench outside the school, going over the homework you finished last night before your entire world came crumbling down. You were halfway through proofreading your English essay when Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, and Jonathan Byers sat down around you at the bench. It was a ragtag group, that was for sure, since Steve and Nancy were ex-lovers and Jonathan was the wallflower of the school.

“We heard,” Nancy began empathetically. “We’re so sorry, Y/N.”

Despite Nancy and Steve’s obvious dislike for Billy (especially so for the latter), they were sincerely sorry to hear your relationship had taken a nosedive into a concrete floor. It made your mouth quirk up at the corners, thankful that you had such understanding friends. They didn’t badmouth Billy, no matter how badly they wanted to; they weren’t his biggest fans at all, and the same could be said for Billy, too.

Thirty minutes went by in a blur, having lost yourself in making plans with your friends; a movie night on Saturday was the perfect way to distract yourself from the turmoil warring inside. The bell echoed across the courtyard and you stood up with your friends to venture inside. Out of habit, your eyes scanned the parking lot and they found Billy, leaning up against his Camaro with his arms crossed. You couldn’t really make out the expression on his face, so you averted your eyes and followed Nancy into the school. Fortunately, you had first period with Nancy, and so she stood by you at your locker, glaring off anyone who dared whisper within five feet of you.

When you entered your first period class, all conversation ceased, and your classmates looked at you with a mixture of sympathy, disgust, and humor. Did she really think she could change Billy Hargrove? How stupid can you be?

I heard he actually loved her, then he went and fucked it all up. If you ask me, he’s the idiot.

Nancy squeezed your shoulder as you sat down at your desks, side by side towards the back of the room. You were positive that she was the only thing keeping you from bolting from the room and hightailing it home.

By lunchtime, the whispers and gossip was a constant flurry of white noise. Nancy helped you tune it out, pulling you into a conversation instead about your upcoming English project. She knew you loved the subject, and she kept you occupied by keeping you talking about the book you planned to write about. It helped a bit, until lunch was over and you walked back to your locker to swap out books for the second half of the day.

Billy was down the hall, leaning his shoulder against the lockers and looking every bit disinterested in what Sara Christensen was saying.

You inhaled sharply once you figured out who was latching onto his arm and you had to look away. Nancy glared at him down the hallway, harshly enough that even Billy winced.

“He really has the nerve?” she hissed angrily, tossing another glare over her shoulder. “What an insolent ass.”

“He isn’t listening,” you mumbled before you could stop yourself. You closed your eyes tightly before opening them again. You risked a glance over Nancy’s shoulder and wished you hadn’t. Billy had spotted you, and he was giving you his best ‘please forgive me’ look, an expression you hadn’t seen since the last time he got in a fight after he promised you he wouldn’t.

“I wish it wasn’t so hard,” you said, leaving Nancy no time to respond to your earlier comment. “Seeing him.”

“I know,” Nancy sighed, running a hand down your back. “It was like that with Steve but you just...learn to tune it out.”

As you opened your mouth to speak, Sara Christensen came sashaying down the hall. When her snake-like eyes landed on you, she smirked cruelly.

“How’s it feel to know you’ll always be second choice?” she taunted, spinning gracefully on her heel to address you as she walked backwards. “Billy and I are headed to the drive-in tonight, but I doubt we’ll be watching the movie.”

You huffed angrily and slammed your locker closed, your eyes glaring at her as she turned and walked down the hall. You turned towards Nancy, who was giving you a saddened look.

“Let’s go,” you muttered, letting your shoulders sag. You startled backwards though when a body stepped in front of you. The familiar scent of cigarettes and cologne wafted into your nose and it made your eyes water from the memories it brought forth.

Slowly you let your eyes meet Billy’s. He was chewing on his lip in a way that he knew drove you crazy, but his eyes were broken, lifeless almost. Good.

“Whatever she just said to you,” he mumbled, gesturing vaguely in the direction Sara had gone, “it’s a lie. I’m not into her.”

You scoffed loudly, relishing a bit when he winced. “That’s funny, considering you were into her on Saturday. But I’m glad to know that all of those months together meant fuck all to you. Do us both a favor, Hargrove, stay away from me.”

With that you brushed by him, bouncing your shoulder off of his in what you hoped was a definitive manner. But Billy never was good at picking up hints, no matter how blatant.

“I’m proud of you for that,” Nancy told you honestly as the two of you continued to class.

“Thanks Nance. I think this might be easier than I thought it would be.” She smiled. “It hurts a bit but, let’s be honest here, who’s the real loser? Me or him?”

“Definitely him,” she replied on a laugh.

Once school was over, it was a relief. You’d get a reprieve from the stares and the murmurs and the rumors about why Billy Hargrove would cheat on you, or what you weren’t doing in bed to keep him satisfied. It was disgusting really, the lengths your peers would go to to get a rise out of either you or Billy.

And a small part of you was relieved to hear he wasn’t rising to the bait.

You bid Nancy goodbye in the parking lot, parting ways as she headed off to Jonathan’s car and you to yours. In the back corner, Billy was once again leaning against the hood of his Camaro, only this time, he was arguing with Sara. His booming voice carried clear across the parking lot, and you had to bite back a triumphant smirk when he told Sara where she could shove her propositions.

Even though the two of you were over, you weren’t going to pretend to feel sorry for her. Not one bit.

He met your eyes as Sara stomped away, ever the petulant child who hasn’t gotten her way. Unfortunately Billy could read you like a book, and even from the distance he could see the smirk you were fighting. His expression turned loving as he watched you walk to your car, and he merely nodded slowly in your direction. You didn’t return it.

Once home, that painful wedge that Billy had unintentionally driven into your heart began to shift again. You had no distractions now except homework from the utter heartache that coursed through you. You felt faint as you carried yourself up to your room, quickly explaining to your mother that you weren’t feeling well. There was no Nancy, no teachers, no classes or notes needing to be taken to distract you.

So you dropped your bag on the floor and sat heavily onto your bed, your eyes blurring as they fell out of focus and a fresh wave of tears rose. You didn’t bother holding them back. Rather, you grabbed a pillow and buried your face in it to muffle the sounds of your sobs. The last thing you wanted was to explain to your mother that her predictions about the boy you were seeing were right.

For two hours you hadn’t moved except to change into a pair of pajamas and pull your photo album into your lap. You knew you’d be treading on thin ice by looking at them, but you needed to. A sick form of self-validation for not taking him back after word got out that he fucked Sara Christensen.

With a sniffle you opened the album, flipping past the baby photos that your mom had given you, past the photos at Christmastime, and Fourth of July, and your 8th grade graduation. You choked up when you came to the first set of photos; you’d just gotten the polaroid camera as a birthday gift from your father, and Billy was the first person you wanted to try it out on. The first photo was his hand as he tried to block you from snapping his picture. When he realized you wouldn’t stop until you got him standing still, he gave up and posed for you.

That was the next set, a collection of goofy poses of Billy. Your bottom lip trembling, you touched his face in one of the photos. He was so different when he wasn’t at school or taking insult after blow after insult from his dad. He was a normal teenager.

Looking at your history together only served to make you cry harder; it didn’t make you angry with him, didn’t help you decide it was better to move on. It just made you sad, so incredibly sad that you buried your head in your hands and cried. The photo album slid off your lap, hitting the carpet with a muffled thud, but you didn’t pay it any mind.

God, your throat was sore from crying.

Wiping your eyes as best as you could to hide your upset, you headed to the kitchen and pulled a water bottle out of the fridge. Your parents were on the couch in the living room, engrossed in a movie so they didn’t even hear you creep back up to your room. You sipped at the water as you headed back to your room, gasping aloud and clutching a hand to your chest at the figure suddenly in your room.

“Billy,” you hissed through clenched teeth, closing the door softly behind you. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He was swaying on his feet, and as you got closer you noticed his eyes were glassed over.

“Are you...are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He held a hand up and pinched his fingers together. “Just a bit.”

“You can’t be here.” You crossed your arms over your chest to keep yourself from reaching out to him. His presence was causing both great relief and great discomfort.

“‘M so sorry, baby,” he mumbled drunkenly. He attempted to take a step forward and instead face-planted into your mattress. It took all of your strength not to run to his side; you’d always taken care of him when he was drunk. Usually it was after a particularly bad night of him playing the role of Neil’s punching bag.

“How did you get in here?” His arm lifted and pointed at the window. His arm hit the bed with a thump. “You picked the lock?!”

Billy sat up as if he was in slow motion; his face was pinched as he sat cross-legged on your bed, picking idly at the quilt on the bed.

“Had to see you,” he mumbled. His eyes lifted slowly to yours before dropping back down. “Had to tell you I was sorry.”

“I know you are. But that doesn’t mean you get to break into my room whenever you feel like it,” you shot back hotly. Having him in such close proximity was doing terrible things to your self control. You dug your nails into your arms, creating crescent moons into the skin.

“Had to tell you that I-I love...I love you. Had to tell you that….”

You scoffed rudely. “You have a hell of a way of showing it, Hargrove.”

“Please don’t call me that. You only call me that when-when you’re really angry….”

“Because I am really angry! You cheated on me, Billy, thinking I wouldn’t find out but Sara Christensen’s lips are as loose as her vag!”

“I didn’t do it to hurt you….” His voice was thick; the alcohol in his system was loosening his tongue.

“Then why did you?” Honest curiosity was niggling at your brain. This oughta be good.

“I was scared.”

Your arms dropped to your signs in a brief moment of surprise, but you pulled your resolve back together and crossed them again.

“What could the great Billy Hargrove possibly be scared of?” you asked scathingly. He looked up at you, insecurity slowly creeping behind his irises.

“You.”

This time the surprise registered clearly on your face, and Billy took the momentary pause to plow forward, his speech becoming clearer the more he spoke. “I’m scared of you. I’m scared of what’s happening to me because of you. I don’t recognize myself anymore because I’ve changed. Because of you. You got in my head somehow and you made me want to be better. And I….I fucked up because I was scared. I thought I was going soft, falling for you the way I did and so I….and Sara was there and….fuck, I’ve never regretted anything so much in my whole life. I don’t want to be that person anymore, Y/N. The “Keg King of Hawkins”, a manwhore who sleeps with girls and then breaks their hearts. I don’t want to pick fights anymore. You made me like that, and for the first time I actually liked the person I’d become. I want to keep being that person because I know that person actually stands a chance of being good enough for you. But I can’t….I can’t do it by myself. I need you.”

His gaze wandered to you, standing stock-still in front of your closet, your eyes squeezed closed as tears fell down your cheeks. You inhaled a sob as you heard the bed shift, and you felt him before you saw him standing in front of you.

“Baby....” he murmured, reaching hesitantly for you. You opened your eyes, waved him away, and he lowered his arms but remained where he was.

“You....you make it so hard, Billy,” you sobbed. Your hands came up to run through your hair. He was frowning deeply, feeling his throat close with emotion as you all but fell apart before him. “You...you make it so...so goddamn hard to be angry with you! But I should be! I am! Because you broke my heart, Billy. You...you made me trust you and then you turned around and went back to the person everyone told me you were.”

He didn’t bother hiding the flinch from you. Your words stung.

You pushed on. “You hurt me, Billy, so, so badly and I...I can’t forgive you for that. Not yet. I’m....I’m not ready to. I can’t trust you now, and I hate that that hurts me to say, because I should be able to trust you. I gave you everything I had and you...threw it away. You threw it all away!”

You had to fight to keep the hysteria out of your voice. Billy’s bottom lip was trembling and he bit it to keep himself in check. All he wanted was to hold you against him, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a small step back and you felt like you could breathe again for a moment.

“Can I....is there any way you can trust me again?” he asked in a small voice.

You breathed deeply. “I don’t know yet, B.” The nickname brought a small flicker of relief to his eyes. You gestured between you. “This is still too fresh and too painful to really think about that right now.”

He nodded, accepting it because at least you were talking to him.

“I’ll give you all the time you need,” he agreed. “I just needed you to know how important you are to me, and how sorry I am for fucking up and especially for hurting you.”

You nodded once, keeping your eyes averted because you knew you’d go back on your word if you looked at him. He made to step away, but then he was struck with an idea that may or may not get him smacked.

He moved slowly to wind his arms around you and pull you into his chest. You didn’t fight him; instead, you selfishly relished in his warmth and even rested your hands on his sides, relaxing a bit in his embrace. You squeezed your eyes closed when he pressed a firm but gentle kiss to your forehead. Before you were ready he let you go, taking steps backwards to the window he came through.

Your watery eyes met him and he gave you one last longing look before he turned to duck out of the window. You didn’t want him to; you wanted him to stay, curl up beside you on your bed and run his fingers through your hair as you fell asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

But you needed him to go. If you wanted any chance to heal, he couldn’t stay, no matter how hard your heart pounded against your ribcage, as if it was trying to fight its way out of your chest to be with him.

Because even you knew that it belonged to Billy, and only to Billy.

[notimetoblog]

Summer Plans (Pt.4)

Summary: Planning a trip with Bucky takes a turn when someone new comes into his life. Will it all change or can you still manage to have the perfect summer you planned?

A/N: HI!!! This part switches between reader and Bucky’s perspective. I hope you guys like it!! We get to see how Bucky is going about  sharing his feelings with you (or not) and how you react (or not). Tumblr is being a jerk and hasn’t been notifying me when I get tagged in some things, so please let me know if you’re also not being notified. I got a couple of requests (!!!!) and am super excited to get to write those this week. Thanks for reading!!! HOPE YOU GUYS HAVE AN AWESOME WEEK <3

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 /  MY STORIES

Two weeks had passed since your day at the park with Bucky. That day had been fueling your dreams every night. It was impossible for your thoughts not to wander to the way the soft light of sunset had made him glow. To that hug, that had a magical aura to it. The way he had held you close, almost as if memorizing the way you felt, made you happily sigh whenever you remembered it. You could still feel his warmth and your mind thought the perfect time to remind you of it was just as you were trying to sleep. The never-ending sounds of the city, unable to drown out your thoughts.

You could also easily spend all day conjuring up those images, imagining possible scenarios where you were brave enough to confess how you felt. Where you poured your heart to him and he would reciprocate your feelings.

It had also been two weeks since you’d had a full conversation with him. He had texted you the pictures of the park he mentioned but replied only in short texts after.

You had been excited to share your thoughts, but you noticed he wasn’t as interested in the conversation, so you tried to change the subject, asking about his day and what he was up to, but his responses had been the same. Never more than “just busy”, or a “running a few errands”, or simply a “can’t talk right now, sorry!”.

Your constant daydreaming of him needed to stop now. If he wasn’t answering you, it was most likely because he was spending his time with Jen and that was fine. He deserved to be happy. He was a great guy who deserved a great girl. One that could make him smile, one that could give him all the love he deserved, who was as equally kind as him. If he believed that girl was Jen, then you would be happy for him.

You knew this was coming. Knew it since the moment he had mentioned her name and seemed so hopeful she would be the one. Knew that he would slowly be pulling back from you, too busy with his thoughts of another to spend time with you. It had been silly to allow yourself to rejoice in the way he had seemingly treated you different that day in the park because truth be told, your crush on him had probably distorted the way things happened. Just like it had so many other times before.

Two weeks without talking to him seemed like the perfect indicator of what was happening with Jen and the perfect cue to become determined to once and for all move past your feelings. Your heart was already going through hell picturing him with Jen, so you could not wait to deal with your emotions until after things got even more serious between Bucky and her. These feelings needed to be overcome, especially if you wanted to be able to go on the trip with him next summer. A whole trip with him and still suppressed feelings did NOT sound fun.

And it was easy to convince your mind this was the way to go. Sure, you could be happy for him. He was your friend, whatever made him happy should make you happy for him.

He likes her! you constantly reminded yourself as your heart refused to give up the thought of Bucky. He doesn’t think of you the same and the faster you realize that the better.

You needed to stop the constant thinking of Bucky. His absence only made him seem so much more special and that needed to stop for the sake of your heart. You were not going to let your misplaced feelings for him, ruin the possibility of keeping his friendship as he fell in love with someone else.

Waking up one Saturday morning, determined to finally begin getting over Bucky, you sat up in bed, with your laptop on your lap and planned the heck out of the rest of the trip. It had been set aside thinking you would finish up when Bucky had time to plan. After finishing, you picked up your phone and sent a quick text; beginning your “Get Over Bucky” Plan.

Hey! Itinerary is done! Everything is booked and prepped. No more planning, you’re finally off the hook.

Step 1 of the “G.O.B” Plan: Cut off your go-to excuse to hang out with Bucky.

Spending time away from Bucky had been difficult, but it was time to see it in a more positive light. If you were away from him, it could mean you could think more clearly without his handsome face clouding your attempts to get over him.  

You heard your phone buzz and your traitorous heart leapt at the thought that it could be Bucky.

You need to get your act together stupid heart, you mentally chastised it.

This was going to be much harder than your hopeful and naïve-self had made you think this morning.

Awesome 😊 FINALLY!, read a text from Bucky.

That was it. That was the full extent of his text, and suddenly the determination from this morning came pouring back to you. 

But then, your phone buzzed again.

Can I see you today? I know I’ve been MIA.. sorry ☹

Oh, for fuck sake!

You put your phone down. You had to be rational about your approach to this. You couldn’t avoid him forever, hell you hadn’t even BEGUN avoiding him. You wanted to be friends with him, his friendship meant the world to you. But, if you met up with him it would mean delaying getting over him, because you just knew that seeing him would only make your heart that much more determined to keep torturing you with images of Bucky and you, together. On the other hand, avoiding him today would create a pattern. It was easier to avoid an issue than face it head-on. Avoiding him today could possibly lead you to avoid him more and more often.

So, what was it going to be? Hang out with him and delay getting over him or avoid him for today and risk developing a pattern.

For ten whole minutes you just stared at your phone, unable to come to a decision.

Finally, you typed your response and sent it, not giving yourself any time to debate it.

Step 2: Cut off ANY excuse to hang out with Bucky, until your heart got its act together, you figured.

---

No worries.. and sorry but I cant today.. super busy.

Fuck, Bucky thought after reading your text.

He had called Nat and asked if she knew of a possibility of you feeling something more than friendship towards him, but the redhead had refused to comment.

“Grow a pair and ask her your damn self!” she had told him. “I’ll lend you mine if you can’t.”

So, he had spent two weeks trying to do just that. His phone would buzz with an incoming text from you, and he felt like a boy facing his first crush. His heart would beat fast, as if he hadn’t had multiple conversations with you before. He found himself needing to limit his words  in order to avoid saying anything stupid, wondering how he hadn't realized his feelings for you sooner. 

After speaking to Jen, everything had become much more real. She had understood, saying it was important for him to be honest,not just with her but also with himself. He still saw her at his office and they would still be friendly towards each other. She really was a great girl. Without the guilt of seeing her while thinking of you, he was able to fully delve into his feelings for you and boy was he completely head over heels for you! Playing back all the times you had spent together put the biggest smile on his face. That smile only grew when he thought of the perfect summer you had planned for next year. He had been an idiot being oblivious to his feelings, and he knew it was time to act.

Today had seemed to be the perfect day to set his plan in motion. The weather forecast for the weekend was just the way you liked it, the sun out without a cloud in the sky but not melting everything under its rays. And to top everything off, there was a farmer’s market a block away from his place set up for the weekend.

Waking up today, he felt a sudden sense of determination. It had been two weeks, long enough to truly miss you and finally grow the pair Nat had suggested (more like ordered) him to grow. Today would be the day. He had had enough of simply dreaming of you, he needed to know if he had a shot at the real you.

But… you were busy. He’d just have to try again tomorrow.

Busy today? He texted you the next morning, a Sunday. The anticipation of seeing you again had been waking him up early, even on the weekends.

And for hours there had been no response. He checked his phone multiple times to see if he had accidentally missed the ding of his phone letting him know he had a text.

Finally, around 4pm he heard his phone ding. He had tossed it as far away from him on the couch as possible because the sheer sight of it made him nervous. He threw himself over to the other end of the couch, grabbing his phone and brought up the new text.

Hey man, you in for the game next week? We need wings.

Sam Wilson. It was only Sam Wilson and his heart began to settle in his chest again after racing at the thought of it being you.

What could you possibly be doing? He searched his mind in the hope of maybe remembering you saying something about this weekend. Maybe you had an event for work? You hadn’t traveled back home, at least he didn’t think so. If you had, you would’ve told him yesterday when he had asked to see you. Were you upset with him? Shoot, had he actually said something stupid while he was trying his best not to?!

He scrolled through the thread of texts you two had been exchanging over the last two weeks, but he couldn’t find anything that could have made you upset. All his messages were short, not leaving any room for messing anything up.

He texted again, maybe you’d missed his first text.

there’s a farmer’s market by my place... wanna go?

You loved farmer’s markets, always looking for homemade cookies and other baked goods. He hoped your love for them could entice you to finally text him back.

He nearly dropped his phone when he saw three dots pop up on his phone letting him know you were typing. FINALLY!

Cant.. sorry B. Have to get things done for work tomorrow.

He sighed. He missed you and needed to talk to you, start looking for clues on whether or not he might have a chance.

I can get you some food from the farmer’s market… drop it off at your place??

He had to try one more time.

That’s really sweet, but I already ate and really should get back to work. Talk to you soon ok?

Well this wasn’t off to a good start. The work week was starting off tomorrow and if you were swamped with work over the weekend, his best chance at seeing you, it didn’t look likely he would see you over the weekdays.

Could he really get through another week with just short texts to you? 

NO HE COULD NOT!

---

Seemed like Jen is busy this weekend, you thought as you put down your phone with a sigh. If she wasn’t, he’d probably be hanging out with her and not wanting to meet up with you.

Bucky had always been sweet so his offer to bring you food from the farmer’s market was not something unexpected, especially after saying you were working. But you couldn’t focus on his sweetness now. You needed to focus on yourself and your determination to work through your feelings and finally leave them behind.

Grabbing your computer, you went back to what you were doing. Not working, like you had told Bucky, but watching all the John Mulaney comedy specials you could get your hands on.

Step 3: Distract yourself enough with John to stop thinking about Bucky. 

So far, not so good.

That man and his charm were making this almost impossible. Even John and his charm were having trouble competing. You needed help, you needed Nat. 

Just as you were going to call her, you heard a knock on your door. Not expecting anyone, your brows shot up in surprise. 

You approached your door and looked through your peep hole.

Fuck! 

It was Bucky. 

PART 5

---

Bucky Tags! (Let me know if you’d like to be added to either list!)

@camillechan @just-add-butter @buckyisthepuresthuman

 @carry-on-my-fandom  @creideamhgradochas @sixweekcure4dreams @verycoolveryunique @dugan365 @jitterbuck @buckysmusculararm @headinthe-fridge @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @hedwigthelegend @sappybarnes @sold-my-soul-in-2016 @coal000 @the-soldiers @natcad @winters-beauty @dixonsbugaboo     

“Summer Plans” Tags

@sweet-barnes @angieptt @lilypalmer1987 @pinkfairyfluff @lordemjay 

@softhairbarnes

[misfit-among-the-angels]

His guitar tech

Word count: 1893 Genre: SMUT Pairing: Janick Gers x Reader Warnings: Little bit of alcohol drinking, smut and bad writing lol Summary: Being temporary guitar tech for Jan, having secret crush on him andtrying not to show him any feeling but in the end Jan’s knows everything. Pure smut with a hint of plot. You also can find this on Archive of our own

A/N: Pretty old fanfic, from 2016. My first Janick fanfic. 

His accent, his personality, his hair, his arms, his neck, his presence on stage, his everything…

I was new in Killer crew, Jan’s guitar tech got sick few days before the tour, so I ended up being his temporary guitar tech. I’ve never thought that I will develop crush so fast. I made sure that this crush would be the secret one, so that even other members of the band wouldn’t know anything, at least I thought so. But here I am, it’s the fifth concert of this tour and I’m watching Jan from the backstage and daydreaming. He’s playing another solo now and ‘damn, that neck of his, I want to bite it so badly. Oh and those arms with strong and long fingers, I wonder-‘. My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed that Jan was looking at me, can he even see me? Probably can’t. I took some deep breaths and shook my head trying to get rid of all those dirty thoughts. The rest of the night went pretty good, though Jan again ‘fucked’ his Strat. After that he came up to change his guitar and I was red like a tomato and hoping that he couldn’t see how red I was, but he just smiled and I gave him another guitar and he went on stage again. The concert was over and I thought that I got away with my secret crush, but oh boy, I was so wrong.

I love talking to Janick, he’s smart and well educated, so we were sitting in his hotel room, drinking our beers and talking. The rest of the band went to sleep, since they have the day off tomorrow, but not Janick. Even in a regular day he likes to stay up late either talking with fans, if he can, or talking with me, if we’re on the road. There was a small silence between us and I took a chance to admire him once more and I got caught.

‘I’ve seen ya watching me tonight,’ Janick broke the silence and looked at me with his blue eyes.

‘I’m watching you almost every show,’ I tried to keep my cool while taking some sips from my beer can.

‘Yeah, but you’ve been biting your lip this time. And what is with you blushing?’ ‘Oh shit, he noticed!!’ I felt that my cheeks started to burn and couldn’t think what to say, ‘It was just hot, that’s it. Nevermind that’. I was avoiding his gaze, though I saw wicked smile playing on his lips, that gorgeous bastard have something in his mind. I stood up and walking to the window. I couldn’t say I was embarrassed, but I just couldn’t stand his gaze.

After some time I’ve felt his presence. I did not know what to expect from him, since Jan is free spirit and like to improvise. Then I felt his hands on my waist slightly pulling me against him. My heart was beating fast and I was just waiting what will happen next.

‘I know that there’s something you’re not telling me, what it is?’ his northern accent thickened, which caused me to bite my lip. I cursed in my mind for being such a weak person, but I wouldn’t lie if I’d say that his accent does things to me.

‘It’s nothing. Really,’ my voice sounded so small. And at this point I was leaning against Jan. I wasn’t even trying to keep my cool now, I was hopeless.

The blonde guitarist chuckled and whispered in my ear, ‘You know, you’re terrible liar. Don’t wanna say what is it, then I’m gonna make ya’. After that everything went so fast, somehow I was turned around and backed to the wall. My hands were pinned above my head. He pinned them with one hand. 

‘Don’t bite your lip too hard, luv,’ I wasn’t even aware that I was doing that, but I didn’t had time to think about it, because his lips crashed on mine. The kiss was heated and passionate. Soon Jan bit my lover lip and I moaned for the first, but not last time in this night. Janick broke the kiss, but only to kiss his way to my neck. He kissed and nibbled at my neck while his free hand traveled to my boobs and giving them a light squeeze. And then he suddenly pulled away, admiring his work to make the hot mess of me, which I definitely was. That bastard was smirking...

I took a few deep breaths, calmed a bit my mind and looked straight him in the eye, ‘you’re right, Jan. I have something to say’. I stepped closer to him, not breaking the eye contact. Janick was still smirking. ‘The reason behind my blushing is… you. You see, I really like the way you shake your hair while playing-‘ Jan was a bit taller than me, but I managed to took my hand to caress his blonde strands and suddenly I pulled his hair just a bit, just to expose his neck ‘-but what I like more than your hair, is your neck. To be really honest, I was biting my lip tonight, because I was thinking about biting this perfect neck of yours,’ I was still pulling on his hair and I could swear I’ve heard and felt Jan growl while I nibbled at his neck. I smiled against his skin and then pulled away, releasing my grip of his hair. Janick was breathing heavily, when he finally opened his eyes and met my gaze I could see his pupils dilated. I was teasing him and he knew that. But I wasn’t finished with him, not yet. At least that’s what I thought.

I wanted to continue my teasing, but he spoke first, ‘and what about my fingers, luv. You clearly forgot ‘em’. I wasn’t expecting this, ‘how he even know about this, am I that obvious?’ I lost my cool, my domination over situation. I was backed up against the wall again, but this time Jan wasn’t wasting time. My shirt were first to go, then my bra.

‘Oh yes, I know. You’ve been too obvious about this. Always staring at my fingers, but let me hear what you truly think about ‘em,’ Janick squeezed my boobs and started to pinch my already hard nipples. Pleasure shot straight between my legs.

‘Jan…’ I couldn’t keep myself from whimpering his name, I was completely at Janick’s mercy. He stopped what he was doing, slightly pulled away, ‘Hun, I’m not gonna continue unless you gonna say what I asked ya’. His accent will be the death of me, I fucking swear it!

I was shaking because of anticipation, but once again, I tried to regain my coolness and maybe the domination, though at first I stuttered a bit, ‘You-you are right. I was thinking about your fingers quite a lot-‘I paused, closed my eyes for a second, trying to collect all my will power, and when I opened them I was ready to speak again ‘-they seemed quite fast and long. And I love how they are working while playing solos. I wandering what else these fingers of yours could do…’ I was biting my lip and I noticed that this action was driving Janick crazy, well, judging by the bulge in his pants.

‘Good girl,’ Jan smiled at me. ‘But I’m not so sure if I should give ya what you want’. His smile and his voice tone gave away what he had in mind. Janick doesn’t know how to be subtle, neither do I.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ I knelt before him and unzipped his pants, leaving him just with his boxer briefs. ‘Do I need to drag you to bed or you gonna walk by yourself?’

‘Oh, I’d love to see you try,’ the blonde teased me, but did what I asked and oh dear, that view of him laying on the bed… I wasn’t wasting my time and pulled his boxer briefs down releasing his cock. I licked my lips, then leaned down and swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. I did this few times more, just teasing him and making him moan. I was taking my time, I licked all the way through his length. After few licks I wrapped my mouth around his cock and started sucking and using my tongue. I felt his body tense up a bit, so I looked up to see him throwing his head back, exposing his neck. His eyes closed, his lips slightly parted. This view alone was almost too much for me to handle. I moved even faster, feeling that Jan is soo close. Then I again swirled my tongue around the head of his cock and he was done for. Jan was quite vocal when he came, which was pretty hot.

I looked at him, smirking and when I tried to stand up, he moved fast, grabbing me by the waist and slamming me on the bed, ‘I’m not done with you, luv’. Again pinning my hands above me, Jan leaned to nibble at my neck while his other hand was pinching my nipples, then traveling to my pants. Janick pulled away only to get rid of my pants. I wiggled out of them quickly and Jan just threw them somewhere on the floor. ‘I bet you gonna sound better than my Strat’. Bastard was still teasing me! He kissed me and for a few second our tongues were battling for dominance. Jan broke the kiss and his right hand slipped into my panties, ‘You’re basically dripping. I’ve never thought that I will have this effect on you’. He pulled my panties down and I spread my legs wide, giving him better access. Jan took his index finger and applied a minimal pressure on my clit.

‘Fuck,’ I whimpered and slightly arched my back at that single touch. Jan only chuckled at my response to his little action. His finger was making circles on my clit and occasionally teasing my pussy, but not giving me what I really wanted. Jan literally got me at his fingertips. He leaned in to suckle on my nipple and then I felt one single long finger slipping inside me and slowly starting to slip in and out of me, while his thumb rested on my already sensitive clit.

‘Oh god, Jan,’ I couldn’t suppress my moans. I almost came when he slight bit my nipple. Soon he slipped second finger and now he was fingering me faster and making tiny circles on my clit with his thumb. My orgasm was slowly building up, I was bucking my hips to meet his fingers.

‘Cum for me, luv, I know how badly you want it,’ Jan whispered into my ear. He pumped his fingers in and out even faster and it was it. With a lot of curses and his name on my lips I came hard on his fingers. I could swear by all the gods, Janick definitely knows how to use his fingers.

I was still breathing heavily when we’ve heard loud bang in our room wall followed by angry voice of Steve, ‘Bloody hell Janick! Can you be quiet? I’m tryin’ to sleep here!’

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Downton Court Hotel pt.3

I seriously wrote part three ages ago....and hated it. So I’ve been waiting for something better to come along. I’ll post it to Ao3 after I’ve chewed on it a bit, tweaked the phrasing, etc. For now, though, here it be.

(Also, I know bachlorette parties normally take place the night before the wedding. This one was done several days before to allow for everyone’s work schedules. Haven’t figured out how to work that information into the actual story yet...)

Fandom: Downton Abbey

Relationship: Baxter/Molsley, canon pairings

Characters: Thomas Barrow, Phyllis Baxter

Warnings: Sop, mentions of past bad relations of multiple sorts, cranky Thomas.

https://bitletsanddrabbles.tumblr.com/post/165776433184/downton-court-hotel-pt-2

There was still eyeliner clinging around his lashes. No matter what he tried, Thomas couldn't seem to get it all off. The rest of the makeup had come off well enough with soap and water and he'd finally been convinced the eyeliner was diminished enough to go to tea, but tea was over. The rest of the bridal party, sans bride, had already left for work. Soon he'd have to join them. Eyeliner was just the sort of thing Carson would notice if he showed up in it, and bachlorette party or no, he would not approve.

Damn Anna and Gwen for talking him into this. He was going to take his full weekend off and spend the whole time so smashed that the hangover lasted for two days. Assuming, of course, he wasn't sacked for wearing eyeliner to work.  "Phyllis?" he finally called, trying not to sound panicked. "Is there some trick to getting this crap off?"

For a moment he wasn't certain if she'd heard him. Then there were footsteps on the other side of the door and her voice, muffled slightly, saying, "I have some makeup remover in the medicine cabinet. Try that."

Dutifully he pulled open the cabinet, but was at a complete loss as to what he was looking at. Phyllis Baxter was not the sort he expected to have a medicine cabinet full of beauty products, and yet there were creams and conditioners of every sort on the shelves. "What does it look like?"

"May I come in?"

He wasn't quite certain why she'd asked. It wasn't as if he was using the loo, and it was her bathroom, after all. Still, he appreciated the thought. Without a word, he opened the door. He expected her to just come in and fetch the bottle for him, but instead she also got some cotton swabs and had him sit on the closed lid of the loo.

"Here, let me." With a somewhat strained smile, she popped open the cap on the little bottle and applied some thick cream to the swab. "Close your eyes."

"Thanks," he muttered, following her instructions. He flinched a little when the swab touched him, simply because he couldn't see and wasn't used to things that close to his eyes.

"You're welcome," Phyllis replied. "Although there's so little left, I don't know that it's necessary."

Thomas snorted at that. "If I come in wearing anything that might be considered makeup, Carson'll spot it straight away, I promise you. Then that will be that."

"Mr. Carson doesn't care that much." Her voice took on the gentle, chiding tone she used when she thought he was being silly, but didn't want to upset him.

As usual, it only served to irritate him. "Yes, actually, he does. He's almost as bad as Dad used to be, only he doesn't yell as much and..." He didn't finish the thought. "Anyway, I don't feel comfortable is all. I think about it and all I can hear is Dad yelling at Margaret for putting me in her Easter dress and Mum's heels."

"Well I think it did a lovely job of bringing out your eyes, but it's gone now. Hold still a bit more and I'll make sure there's no left over remover." The cotton swab was replaced with a warm, wet washcloth. "There."

Thomas opened his eyes, blinking a little as the wet lashes stuck together. He then immediately checked the mirror to be certain that, yes, it was all gone. "Thanks," he muttered again, then gave her a sideways glance. "I'll be sure to remember all of that if I ever want to bring out my eyes."

"The waiter at lunch seemed to agree with me." That was said in her teasing voice, the one she used when she wanted to make him smile, but wasn't certain he was ready to.

At least eight times out of ten, he wasn't ready to. This was not one of the lucky times. "The waiter was flirting with at least three different girls," he retorted with an eye roll. "At best he was bi curious and would figure out after one night that men weren't his cup of tea. At worst, he just thought I was tipping and hoped he'd get more from flirting."

"Thomas!"

"No, I've given up on romance," he insisted, leaving the bathroom for the comfort of the living room, his hostess trailing behind him. The one good thing about the other bride's people being maids (well, except for Daisy) was that they'd tidied up the debris from the gifts before they'd left. There was one chair occupied by boxes waiting to go out for pick up, but beyond that, Thomas could sit where he liked. He chose the recliner and, once seated, looked up at Phyllis with his best 'devil may care' expression. "It never goes well for me, so I'll leave it to other people and you can turn your attention to hooking Gwen up with someone."

Phyllis gave him one of those worried frowns she wore so often. Really, she fussed more about him than his own sister ever had. "Is this still about Jimmy?"

"What?" he scoffed. "Of course not. That was years ago and I'm over it. Better a best mate than a failed boyfriend any day." He paused and gave her a hard look. "And don't bring up Andy. That was never even a possibility, no matter what everyone else decided, thank you." "I wasn't going to mention it." Phyllis took a seat in the arm chair across from him, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "Really, I didn't ask you to stay so I could lecture you about your love life, I promise."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I had a question for you." She straightened and met his eye, smiling. She didn't say anything further. She didn't ask anything. The silence stretched long enough that Thomas was about to prompt her when she finally asked, "Would you like more tea?"

It was not the question Thomas had been anticipating. It was, in fact, so far from that he couldn't help a short, bewildered laugh. "What, another? I've already had six cups."

Phyllis's eyes dropped immediately to her lap. "Right. Of course."

"Is something wrong?" Thomas asked, eyebrows drawing slightly together. While he might complain about Phyllis fussing over him more than his real sister, the fact remained that he returned the favor and nothing was calculated to make him set aside his own troubles quite so quickly as signs that she was unhappy. If called out on the fact he would, of course, deny it or make some excuse, but there it was. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

The question seemed almost startling. "Oh, no!" Phyllis quickly assured him, her face lighting up with a very genuine smile. "No, I am very certain that I want to marry Joseph. It's only that the wedding is in three days and, well, I've not officially named my Maid of Honour."

Thomas frowned at that. "I thought that was going to be Anna. Or, well, I suppose she wouldn't be a maid. Not at a wedding."

"No, that would be Matron of Honour, and I think everyone's assuming it will be her. I haven't asked her, though. I've been thinking about it and..." She paused, then looked him dead in the eye. "I've realized what I truly want is a Man of Honour. Thomas, would you please stand next to me at the wedding?"

Someone else might have asked if she was joking. Thomas knew better. She wouldn't joke about something like that, not in that earnest manner. She wasn't the sort. He suddenly wished he'd paid more attention to what actually went into weddings, since the question was clearly an important one, but he had no idea why. "Well," he mulled the request over, "Would I have to wear a dress?"

This time it was Phyllis's turn to be startled into laughter. "No, no, I would never ask that of you. I promise. It's really no different than any of the other bride's maids, except you'd stand directly next to me and..."

"Catch you if you pass out from nerves?" Thomas guessed. It earned him another laugh.

"I suppose there's that although really, if I didn't pass out the first time around, I'm not going to pass out now." She paused, then shook her head with another smile. "No, the only real concern I had was that the...Person of Honour, I suppose, walks in with the Best Man."

That bit of information hit Thomas like a wet towel. "I'd have to walk in arm in arm with Bates?"

"I wouldn't insist on arm in arm."

"Good," Thomas huffed, settling back in the chair, his posture leaving no question as to his feelings on this development. "I don't need him hitting me in the shins with his cane."

"Thomas! I am certain Mr. Bates is capable of not accidentally hitting you."

"Who said it would be an accident?" Thomas protested. "Really, you all act like he loves me and if I'd just stop being stubborn, we'd be best pals!"

Phyllis gave him a disapproving look. "You do start things, most of the time."

"Most of the time isn't all of the time." Under his breath he added, "Although try telling Carson that." He picked absently at a loose thread. "Are you really certain you want me to do this?"

The disapproval softened a little. "I trust you and Mr. Bates both to behave. How's that?"

"Wasn't Margaret your Maid of Honour last time? Another Barrow might be inviting bad luck." He watched her carefully from the corner of his eye.

With a sigh, Phyllis closed her eyes for moment. "It's not Margaret's fault that Peter was a con artist and a thief. It's not her fault that I didn't get to know him very well before marrying him." She opened her eyes again and looked straight at him. "You're not bad luck, Thomas.

" "Well then," Thomas shrugged. "I suppose I'll do it then. I just hope you don't wind up regretting it, is all."

Phyllis stood and walked over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "I won't. No matter what happens, I won't."

[llexeh]

Santa Baby (2-2) - Steve Rogers / Tony Stark

Part 2-2 of “Steve Is Going to Lose His Damn Mind”

Summary: All Steve wanted was to make some nice memories with his new family. You know, get a tree up, have a nice dinner, sing some carols. So what if he got a bit overenthusiastic? He absolutely did not want to google Tinder, or be struck by how attractive Tony Stark was. Again.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, ridiculousness, sad handjob, mild angst  

Potential trigger: Brief scene that can be construed as self harm on Steve's end. Just for full disclosure purposes, he uses scalding water knowing it would heal almost instantly. This is not done in a fit, or with the self harm end goal in mind. But I know first hand it can be triggering so I thought it would be worth mentioning. (Stay safe x)

Rating: mature

Pairings: Steve Rogers / Tony Stark, Darcy Lewis / Bruce Banner

Tags: pre-slash, crack treated seriously, slowburn, everyone is alive, Christmas fluff, group chat trope, auto correct trope

Word count: 5592

Pietro was allowed around the tower on the 24th. They’d visited him and decorated his hospital bed and even put a nice wreath on the door. Wanda tied bows on it, and Darcy covered it in glitter and silver beads. They took to singing loudly whenever Pietro’s whining got too much, which was roughly eight times a day that they knew of. Bruce kept feeding him sweets to quiet him, and Clint smuggled pizza in one night.

When he was finally allowed to leave the room, his anticipation was palpable. He literally shook with excitement, although if it was for the holiday or for being anywhere else, Steve didn’t know.

He shrieked when he saw the tree, trying to make his wheelchair go faster. “It’s so great,” he said in awe. He turned to Wanda, then to all his teammates gathered around it. “It’s been -”

“Yeah,” she said and ruffled his hair. “Come on, we saved the star for you.”

Pietro’s eyes widened. “Really?” he asked Steve, who was always the man he turned to for confirmation and orders.

“Really,” Steve replied and handed him a large silver star. “Darcy and Clint insisted that we put the A on it,” he said and pointed to the cardboard letter that was glued to the glass ornament.

Pepper pushed Tony in, throwing a sweater at him. She put the large box she was carrying on the floor and joined them. “Hello Pietro, are you excited?” she asked, a beaming smile on her face.

“Yes!” Pietro said and turned to Wanda. The girl gently lifted him up to the top of the tree. He slid the upright branch into the ornament and clapped loudly. The A was truly ugly. Steve loved it more than anything. Wanda lowered Pietro to be at their level.

“Do it, Tony,” Pepper ordered. “Remember I have blackmail material and I am not above using it to make you do things for me,” she said, her voice getting that singing lilt again.

“You used to be such a nice girl, Pepper,” Tony said, sliding the sweater over his head. He emerged with crazy hair and a scowl. When he rolled it down his torso, the knitted Grinch on it was his spitting image. “What happened?”

“I started working for you,” she replied and pushed the box towards them. “Come on, grab a sweater, put it on, stand around the tree. Someone help Pietro, please,” she instructed quickly. “We need a photo of the official team - Rhodey go next to Tony, maybe some of your maturity will rub off on him. Photo for the auction first, and then we can take some for us.”

She arranged them and fixed the camera on the tripod. “Okay, on three say ‘Avengers’! And because that doesn’t work, also smile. One, two…” The shutter went on a couple of times. Pepper went through the photos she took and consulted Darcy. “Okay we got it! Now for the other ones.” She urged them all to gather up once more for their personal photos before setting the timer. “Go crazy, guys, it’s our first Christmas together.”

Steve could have kissed her.

They had to take a vote on when to open presents. Some of them advocated for Christmas Day, others for the Eve. Once they started on the eggnog, the vote swayed towards the Eve, and in the end it was settled for midnight.

Steve had been prepping for the dinner for days. He had a lot of help from Darcy and Clint and even Vision, and it was a labour of love but he was extremely ready to not cook for a while. He was also nervous about the food; he tried cooking people’s favourites, and foods that were traditional to where they were from. Some ingredients were impossible to get, and he improvised the best he could. When they sat down to eat, Steve was so tense he could barely touch anything. It was a litany of appreciative noises from around the table, and Steve felt his shoulders relax slightly.

“Kholodets!” Natasha exclaimed as she lifted a lid. “Steve, kholodets!” She turned to look at him and leaned over the table to kiss his forehead. Pietro joined her in wondering at the traditional Russian dish while Wanda mouthed her thanks.

“We normally celebrate on the 7th of January,” Wanda said casually.

Steve stopped eating. “Why didn’t you say something? It’s not fair to -”

“Hey,” she interrupted him, “Christmas on the 25th is better than no Christmas. Pietro and I, our parents weren’t religious and back there it was religious for a lot of people. So it’s the thought, the family,” she told him, trying to keep the conversation private. It didn’t work at all, of course.

Natasha smiled. “I remember when Christmas didn’t exist. They moved it to the 1st of January. In the… in the Red Room we knew there was a celebration on the 7th and we knew what it was, but we were never allowed. It was just another day.”

Bruce coughed once to draw attention to him and immediately regretted based on his lost look. Darcy touched his hand and smiled. “My aunt gets drunk every year and slaps the turkey,” she offered with a shrug.

Natasha snorted and turned to look at the large bird on the table. “Do you take after her side of the family?”

Darcy grinned and fluttered her lashes. “I guess we’ll find out,” she said and winked at the turkey.

Clint shoved pigs in blankets in his mouth, throwing Steve a thumbs up and an enthusiastic nod. Bucky thanked him for making the roast potatoes the way his mother used to. Steve smiled widely and pointed towards the turkey. “Not that slapping it wouldn’t be amazing to watch,” he rolled his eyes, “but who wants to carve it?”

They looked at each other, trying to figure out what he meant. Tony was surprisingly the one to answer, not even lifting his head from his potato salad. “You, of course. And hurry up, I want to get to that crisp skin sooner rather than later.” When no one said anything, he looked up. “What?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s your tower, Tony. Maybe you should do it?”

Tony made a show of leaning back and rolling his eyes because he was the biggest drama queen, no matter how many tantrums Steve threw. “This is your tower as well. You all have rooms and little nooks of happiness and the building is actually in all of our names.” He sipped his mulled wine. “What?” he asked again in that impatient voice.

“Tony did you forget to tell them?” Pepper’s voice taking a slight shrill quality. “Tony, I sent you thirteen god damned emails and got Friday to sing to you. What did you do, sleep through all of it?” Tony stayed quiet, looking anywhere but ahead of him, where Pepper’s hand shot up to rest on her hip. “You’re an idiot,” she announced and kicked his shin under the table.

“I was working on a space suit and then I passed out and when I woke up Mr Fantastic was calling me and I just flew out to beat the crap out of a Doombot and to avoid Reed’s annoying voice. And I guess I forgot,” he finished lamely.

“Tony.” Steve’s voice was serious, he knew, but there was no accusation behind it. Tony forgot to eat and sleep and sit down, this was not new.

“When we rebuilt this,” he gestured around him, “I put it down with the Avengers as the owners. Then I kept adding people to the list of what the Avengers mean. It’s not a big deal, your name on the papers or not this is your home.” He pushed the turkey symbolically. The bird was huge. “Now carve it and feed us, Captain… Captain? I’ll have to think about it,” he told Steve, and that was the end of it.

On his part, Steve did his best to carve it as neatly as possible. It wasn’t like he had a lot of experience, or any really. Steve didn’t know a lot about a great deal of things. So he stood and tried to remember any circumstance in his life where carving a turkey had been a thing. If he’d known this was going to happen, he would have allocated three minutes to a youtube tutorial, risking the merciless teasing from Tony. In all fairness the scientist had been good with mocking Steve about his searches, but there was a knowing look. Maybe Steve was also paranoid on top of everything else he was discovering about himself.

He picked up the fork, feeling very self conscious about how slow he perceived his movement. Maybe they had drunk enough not to notice the slight tremor in his fingers. Steve bashed people’s heads in with his shield. This was ridiculous. He went for one of the legs, trying to position the knife as well as possible. The small shriek when a manicured hand shot out and slapped the turkey’s breast absolutely did not happen. Steve would go to his grave claiming that. Darcy howled with laughter at his little jump, and the others were in various degrees of hysterics. Steve hated all of them. He cut through the crispy skin with a scowl on his face. This was ridiculous. Again. He pushed the leg down with the fork, then cut straight through the ball joint.

The drumstick went on a plate, and it was out of Steve’s hands how they were all going to fight over who wants what. He kept going, piling up slices of almost-evenly-carved meat on a large platter. He was about to sit back down when he remembered. He picked the fork up again and poked through the skin on the remaining breast, then pulled slightly.

“Plate,” he said quietly to Tony, whose head snapped up looking around frantically.

“Don’t let them see us,” he whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear him.

“Stark give me the damn plate before I eat all the skin off this bird in front of you and make you watch,” Steve said in a normal voice.

“Promise? I love watching,” came the reply and Steve was about half a wrong breath away from smacking Tony’s hands with the carving fork.

“I’ll make sure to put on a show,” he said sitting down, trying hard for unimpressed and annoyed. That should definitely be the title of his autobiography if he ever decided to write it. Actually, a couple more words: frozen, frustrated, confused - the usual.

Dinner was a success as far as Steve was concerned. The teasing was familiar, and they shared stories of the few happy things they could remember about Christmas. When the conversation turned darker, Vision starting blasting “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and then awkwardly singing along. They tried to keep Steve from helping with clearing the table, but he still managed to sneak past them and start loading the dishwasher.

There was a sharp poke between his shoulderblades just as he was bending to rearrange some plates. It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable enough to make him turn and look up.

“Come on, you can do dishes tomorrow as well,” Tony said and started pulling at his shoulder and then tried to push him towards the door. “There are about eighteen mugs in my lab and at least six bowls you can wash if you feel like it. Tomorrow,” he added, and tried moving Steve again.

“Just go sort out the drinks, I’ll be done here in a minute,” he tried for reason.

“No more doing things around the house tonight, you’re too big to be a house elf. And they’re not as cute. Now move,” he kept prodding at his chest, pulling at his arms, and even yanked his hair a little.

“Harry Potter, right?” Steve checked.

“Yes, yes, now come along.” When there was no sign of success Tony sighed, cocked his head, tutted, sighed again, and lightly backhanded Steve’s shoulder in the quickest succession Steve had seen. “Wanda!”

“Told you,” came her voice, and Steve found himself being floated away from the almost loaded dishwasher.  He scowled and waited for it to be over.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn? Literally one more minute, Stark.”

“Yeah, yeah, and then you’d have wanted to scrub the oven, and polish the silverware, and knit some warm tiny socks for homeless kittens, and we’d have been here all night waiting for you. Now sit down,” he said just as Wanda lowered him on the sofa, between Bucky and Pepper.

Getting presents was always an uncomfortable experience for Steve. After his mother died, Bucky was the only one who got him anything, and even that was cut short when he left. So Steve was awkward and a bit uncertain what to do with his hands. He tried to be as normal as possible when he unwrapped them, and he was grateful at everyone’s enthusiasm for not noticing the slight shaking of his fingers. He was amazed at how much thought they’d all put into what they got him. Steve received a new sketchbook, all the Star Wars movies, new pencils and -

“T-shirts that fit. Yeah, that’s right, no more gallivanting around the tower looking like your arms are being strangled,” Sam said with a smirk.

“What is wrong with you?” and “Are you actually insane Wilson?” and “What’s next, getting him in a bin bag?” and “Pepper, now! Take them away now when he’s not looking!” and Steve was honestly baffled.

“What are you talking about?” he asked looking around the room.

Natasha patted his head gently. “You don’t worry about this now,” she told him slowly.

“Nat…”

“Oh, it’s about your clothes.” He shook his head. “You know, the two sizes too small, match the sky blue colour of your eyes… the usual.”

“What?”

“Some of us have an appreciation for nice things in life,” Pepper offered. “Like how your back looks in blue t-shirts that are two sizes too small. And Sam Wilson The Traitor,” she added casually, “wants to take that away from us.”

“Pepper, I don’t -” Steve tried, but got interrupted again.

“Pepper, just take the damn things away and we’re all going to be okay!” Tony shouted and Steve reacted by holding his new clothes tighter.

“I think I’ll keep them,” he told them with a smile. “I wouldn’t want Sam to be offended.”

“You ruined Christmas,” Darcy shouted and then turned to Bruce. “You know I don’t -”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he said, and kissed her temple.

If Steve was more conceited, he could have sworn Bruce said “I know he’s hot”, but he refused to accept it. He urged them all to keep shredding wrapping paper and they mercifully agreed. He caught Tony’s eye for a second and was left confused about what the scowl on his teammate’s face meant. There was a distinct annoyance in the way Tony stared at the t-shirts. Steve moved on to unwrap a cologne from Natasha and a foldable easel that had his initials brutally carved on the side. He could recognise Bucky’s ugly handwriting everywhere.

“What did you use, a butter knife?” he asked.

“My teeth,” came the quick reply and Steve burst into laughter.

Clint’s new controller set was a great hit with him, and Bucky caught the one the marksman threw at him. They settled on the floor quickly and immersed themselves into their usual friendly competition that involved about twenty swear words per minute. Natasha kissed his cheek softly for her new necklace, and Darcy threw herself at him in “eternal gratitude” for her new taser.

“Tony can add to it, I’m sure,” he told her as she hugged him repeatedly.

“We can probably put a small arc reactor in it, maybe even make it sing,” Tony confirmed. “Come to my lab some time, we’ll talk,” he said and nodded at Steve. “Thanks for my mug, Darce,” he added, using both hands to hold on to the huge mug. It had bad drawings of the Avengers and it was absolutely glorious.

Pepper thanked him for the leather journal, and Bruce thanked him for his new fountain pen. Steve decided again he loved giving presents because it was never about him. He accepted the hot chocolate with a nod, and settled to watch his family rejoice in their gifts.

As a general rule, Steve could go with almost no sleep at all. Sure, he felt tired, but it wasn’t a tragedy. He tried to keep a balanced life, tried to sleep enough and eat right, and exercise - all of which Bucky called overkill, and used to mock him endlessly. Steve remembered what it was like to feel like no air would ever enter his lungs again, or how it felt to not be able to jog for ten feet. So Steve was grateful, and honestly? he actually liked salads and working out. Bucky mocked him for that too, saying that it was natural he liked it when he already had the body for it. Steve punched him then, and all was good in the world again.

Steve spent hours watching the ceiling after their casual party finally broke up around two in the morning. He got up and tried drawing, but his hands didn’t cooperate - it seemed a common thing these days. He tried reading the new book he got, but he couldn’t focus. He tried doing crosswords, but his mind was loud and eventually he gave up and waited. He could normally fall asleep as soon as he wanted, courtesy of years having to do it in various army settings, but it seemed not even that worked right. Steve was a downright mess.

He kept hearing Tony’s harsh words, then Tony’s protests towards the t-shirts that fit better, then what he thought was some sort of friendly flirting, and it took forever for him to actually manage to sleep. When the knock came on his door, Steve felt like it was too soon, and grunted his dismissal. Much later, when he finally got up and showered, his head hurt in a way it only did when there was a physical injury. He wondered if it was actually a memory of the headaches he used to get before the serum. It was close to noon when he emerged from his room, and his stupid fast metabolism reminded him that it needed food and it needed it soon.

It was one of those split second things when he saw the red and gold wrapping paper. He had actually shut his door when the thought sunk in, and walked back in to investigate. The second he realised what he was looking at he could have punched himself in the face. The present for Tony, the one he spent ages on was sitting on his desk patiently. Steve was an idiot.

He picked it up and hurried to the living room. As soon as he walked in, hair sticking out from running his hands through it, present perched on his hip, and eyes looking around wildly, Steve felt it. The same train from last time, with the same precise speed and the same merciless power. Steve felt like someone stabbed him in the kidneys. The force of his recurring epiphany was enough to make him stop abruptly and any words he might have thought of saying died in his constricted throat.

Tony was on the floor, wearing a Christmas hat and his Christmas sweater, surrounded by children who rallied around him. There was a little girl on one of his knees, and a little boy on the other. They both kept touching his beard and his face, as if to make sure he was real. Steve had a very distinct urge to do the same. Behind him, the tree was revolving slowly, and Steve checked around the room for Wanda. There was no one else there except for Tony and the children. Wouldn’t that be a great band name? Even a great superhero team name.

Outside, the snow had some fairy tale qualities to it, falling down peacefully with large snowflakes that were sure to stick to everything. Steve wasn’t fond of the snow or the ice, or even the cold really, but it bathed the room (and subsequently Tony) in some dreamy-fairy-crap light and Steve found that he could start liking it.

“Look kids, it’s Captain America! In his glorious tracksuit bottoms and mercifully tight t-shirt, and sans shield but with a present inste - Steve that won’t help in battle,” he said, tickling the two kids on his lap slightly.

Steve was in love. This was it.

Some of the kids looked up and their eyes widened dramatically before they ran up to him. They all stopped just shy of jumping up into his arms, and turned back to look at Tony. “Go on, he’s not gonna get mad at you! Are you kidding me, this is Captain America! You could shoot at him and he’d still hug you!”

Steve would have denied it, but he knew it was true. He put the gift down and squatted to be closer to their heights. “Hi, I’m Steve.” he offered simply.

The kids smiled and started shouting their names at him. He shook every single one of their little hands and accepted that Ben, who was almost five, wanted to hug him. He picked up the kid and walked back to sit down opposite to Tony.

“Did you know our tree’s called Ben?” Steve asked the little boy who shook his head from his hiding place in Steve’s neck.

“It is?” Tony asked.

“Oh, yes,” Steve said and patted Ben’s head slowly. “Darcy named it when she was riding around it on her mighty steed.”

“There was a horse in here?” Tony asked, his tone even more perplexed.

“Not a horse, Tony, a mighty steed!” he emphasised. “How about you bring the box of decorations over here,” he asked the kids, “and I can get you up on my shoulders so you put them in the tree?”

Ben leaned back and looked at Steve. “Is that okay?”

“Of course! Go on, we’ll be here.” As soon as the kids were half into the box, Steve turned to Tony. “Did you seriously think there would have been a horse in the tower?”

Tony shrugged. “There’s a Norse god, The Hulk, and two enhanced kids who can kick as - butt! I said butt, Steve!” Tony yelped at the kick in the shin.

“Tony said butt!” one of the kids yelled and Steve loved the blush spreading on the scientist’s cheeks more than anything in the world.

“Would it be hard to believe there was a horse? Our washing machines sing ‘Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?’ when we put them on,” he whispered.

“When was the last time you touched the washing machines? Actually when was the first?” Steve whispered-shouted back.

“When I made them sing!” Tony said and burst into laughter.

Steve was gone. This was it, he was gone. Good bye forever. Tony’s eyes crinkled and it physically hurt Steve because he just wanted to hold the man. He wanted to hold the man and sit on the floor and look at the stupid revolving tree -

“Tony why is the tree moving?”

“Ah, well. You see. There was a sort of. You know, I don’t actually know why. Maybe it’s some Christmas miracle -”

“Tony.”

“I just fiddled with this scrap metal I had in the lab, put an engine on it, it’s no big deal,” he finally replied, looking around the room to avoid Steve’s face.

“When did you even have time to do it?”

“Well, last night when I didn’t sleep?”

Steve didn’t know how it happened, but he just found himself blurting, “I forgot to give you your present!”

Tony nodded, then shrugged. “It’s okay, I just figured you didn’t get me anything.”

Steve spluttered. “How? I got everyone something.”

“Sometimes you don’t like me much, and I don’t blame you, it’s not a big deal.”

Steve honestly, honest to god, as honest as he could possible be, felt like crying. He also felt like kissing Tony, and punching him a little, and hugging him, and kissing the stupid lines in the corners of his eyes, and run his hands through his hair, and Steve needed to get a fucking grasp on reality sooner rather than later.

“That’s bullshit,” he whispered, wary of the kids hearing him.

Tony gasped and clutched at his chest. “Captain! America! How could you? Kids, Steve says we should all sing some carols while he picks you up and you can ride him like a horse - AH I see!”

“Told you. And I’m a steed.”

Marie had a lisp so when she said “steed” repeatedly while perched on Steve’s shoulders, he struggled not to laugh and shake her even harder. Tony started singing ‘Santa Baby’ before it dawned on him that it was not exactly appropriate or a carol, and moved on to ‘Deck the Halls.’

All the Avengers came in to say hi, shepherded by Pepper who brought them cookies and hot chocolate. Jane was a hit with a couple of little girls who wanted to be scientists, and Natasha showed some of them how to get out of a hold before she was rushed away. “I’ll be good,” she shouted, “just let me tell them what not to do when they’re attacked from the side.”

Vision let all the kids touch him, and giggled when tiny fingers poked at the Mind Stone. “I don’t think it likes the tickling,” he said trying to stifle his laughter. The kids were fascinated by Bucky’s arm, even though he wore a long sleeved top to try and hide it. They lifted the sleeve and started counting the segments, asking what it could do and if they could draw on it. When Bucky informed them crayons wouldn’t show, he offered the alternative of paper and his company. They readily agreed.

Steve found Tony sitting on the kitchen counter by the fridge. He was waiting for the coffee to be ready, idly rearranging magnets. “You okay?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. I’ll be back to belting out Rudolph’s name in a minute.”

“Please don’t,” Steve said with a smile. “I don’t think the serum was meant to protect me from such things.”

Tony smiled back and it warmed Steve’s heart. “Is that for me?”

Steve nodded and handed him the box. “I don’t know how I missed it, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, how dare you not reciprocate my thoughtful gift of an improvement on the shield that isn’t ready because I didn’t get round to manage to steal it from you and now it’s too late cause you already know so can you bring it downstairs soon?”

Steve huffed, trying not to get closer to him. He was leaning on the kitchen island, safe from giving in to his now constant wish of touching the man in any way he could. “I thought you gave me the Star Wars boxset?”

“And the Avengers figurine collection,” Tony added patiently.

“The shield’s fine as it is, don’t worry about it. We had a spending limit anyway!”

“Steve, I’m Tony Stark, I’ve never had a spending limit,” he said and sipped his freshly poured coffee. “Now hand it over and let me see.”

Steve fiddled with it. “It’s really not that great,” he told him. He really wished he’d remembered to give Tony the present the day before so he could have opened it then and it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

“Shhh, hand it over, there you go, that’s a good Captain, okay now let go, okay? Okay, great, now step back a little? Perfect, thank you.”

Steve was more nervous than before battle. Battles were routine, he trained for battles. They ran scenarios, sparred, tried to plan for unpredicted, and Steve was a soldier so battles gave him a rush of sorts. But this was new and horrible and Steve really wanted his shield.

“I’m gonna go back to -”

It wasn’t like Tony said anything, but he was halfway through unwrapping the box - and this time he didn’t just tear at it like a savage. Steve wanted to go, maybe even to get the shield and bring it back, and he was sure there was something to do with the kids, but Tony took the lid off and gasped and Steve was rooted to the marble tiles he was standing on.

It took weeks to be able to put together the photo album that Tony was currently caressing, apparently afraid of opening. Steve had talked to Peggy and Peggy had directed him to some other old SHIELD members, who then pointed out archives for him. Then he had to physically spend time sifting through papers and reports, then to make more phone calls and pull rank in order to get copies of the photos. A couple he actually stole because there was a limit to his patience, and rude people were not a helping factor.

The pages were filled with black and white photos of young Maria and Howard, of baby Tony, of Jarvis holding Tony, of Peggy cuddling him on the floor, of a toddler Tony sleeping with a toy Captain America shield. There were photos of Howard trying to calm Tony down as he was holding a meeting with what looked like officials. It spread out over years, and Steve had to persuade Vision to put in a good word with Friday to get some photos of teen Tony, and he was now torn between regretting everything and moving to the depths of the Arctic Ocean, and kissing the man’s watery eyes.

“How?”

“Called in some favours, talked to Peggy, the usual. Is it okay? I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped the line or -”

Tony hopped off the counter and took the few steps to where Steve was standing. “No no don’t. I mean I could have lived three content lifetimes without you ever seeing that photo of me and the toy shield. Or the one where I’m drooling on Peggy’s shirt - that’s not even really cute and I’m pretty sure I don’t do that anymore, I don’t actually know, there was no one to comment on it so I don’t -”

“Tony.”

“It’s perfect,” he said quietly, “thank you so much.” He placed it next to Steve and slowly lifted his arms to envelop Steve in a hug. On his part, Steve was still, letting Tony do his thing at his own pace. Once he was sure the man settled, he hugged him back; they stayed like that for a few moments.

“Tony, why are there children in our living room?”

The man burst into laughter, shaking both of them as he pulled back. He went to wipe the dampness under his eyes that were not fully formed tears, but Steve knew. “You played with all of them for hours before asking, really?”

“I don’t mind!” Steve said defensively. “I love spending time with them, I was just curious.”

“I just forget how accepting you are of things,” Tony offered as a very subtle apology in case he offended Steve. “Pepper looks after them through the foundation. They’ve either been abandoned or orphaned. A couple of them… their parents were killed in action. She called this morning and asked if she could bring them over. Their caretakers were delighted with the idea and I said yes because Christmas is hard.”

Steve wanted to hug Tony again, but there was a time and a place and probably a limit on how many times they could do that. If Steve had his way he would hug Tony at the smallest of prompts. Oh, Tony woke up? Better hug him. Oh, Tony walked? Better hug him. Now there was a precedent - Steve thought fleetingly there were quite a few of those happening recently - and Steve knew how it felt. Things were not going to get any easier.

“I know you’re not a fan. I really wanted us to have a kind-of-family thing just to make some nice memories, you know?” Tony nodded. “Thanks for making the tree spin, Clint is ecstatic.”

“Thanks for making the tree happen,” Tony countered and they left it at that.

The silence was oddly not uncomfortable. Steve ended up getting coffee for himself and Tony would occasionally open the album at a random page and smile. It was a good feeling to have done something nice for someone he cared about.

“Come on,” Tony said, packing the album back in its box and heading towards the door. “The kids will leave soon and I wanna say goodbye. Pepper’s got gifts for them, as well.”

Steve nodded. “Go ahead, I’ll tidy up a bit and -”

“Seriously? You’re going to load up the dishwasher now? This is deja vu. Why are you doing this to me again?”

“Just go!”

“Fine. But Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“You know you could have ordered all the decorations and everything on Amazon, right? I mean we do have Prime and just saying, you could have if you wanted.”

Steve was mindful of the kids hearing, but he still couldn’t help himself. “Fuck off, Tony.”

A/N: Natasha’s talk about Christmas is based on her age according to the MCU wikia and historical developments in the Soviet Union. “Khodelets” is a traditional dish in Eastern Europe, although whether this is the word actual Russains use or not, I really can’t be sure. My apologies if I got something wrong. 

The 7th of January is the actual date of Christmas according to the Julian calendar. Many Orthodox people celebrate it then. Sokovian customs are influenced by the Eastern European customs I grew up with since it’s not an actual country. 

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Masterlist

This can also be found on Ao3. 

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