#bout to vacuum the living room and bedroom

[duskythesomething]

it is Whole House Cleaning Day

...will I die later? yes.

[aussiepineapple1st]

That Time of Month

Leon x F!Reader

A/N: This is my experience with periods. I don’t know exactly how they should normally work other than getting them at the same time every month. So I just went with what mine are like.

Words: 1,672 Contains: Fluff, Period talk, Domestic Leon.

Leon was coming home today, he had been in quarantine for the passed week. He had been texting you through your cheap burn phones. He always hated being stuck in DSO's Private hospital rooms, they were nice as you have stayed in there multiple times before. But you liked the quiet time where you could just read, draw and listen to music while you passed the time slowly. Not having to worry about your job. For Leon, however, it was absolute torture after the first 2 days. He would get antsy try to find something to do, anything! Colouring the provided adult colouring books, reading, he would listen to his music, but he would soon start pacing. He was mainly extroverted, though he didn't need to be out and doing something on the town type of extroverted. He liked his company, yes going out was a bonus, but he liked to be around people. You especially.

Your phone buzzes. "Almost home :P" You smile at the text and begin typing your reply.

"Don't text and drive." 

"Make me"

You just chuckle to yourself, placing your phone back down on the island bench. You had been cleaning all morning, having gotten back from a job yourself, but didn't come into contact with any viruses or parasites, so quarantine wasn't needed. The house was usually tidy because both of you seemed to be on a lot of jobs lately, seeming to come home, get one good night's sleep then back out on the field. But you had been home for 4 days now and had been lazy with dishes, plus the bathroom and bedroom needed a good cleaning and vacuuming. 

You did this all despite getting your period. You didn't get them on the regular maybe skipping a few months at a time to a few years, those times would get Leon's hopes up that you could be pregnant, but the tests were always negative. Luckily you had felt that cramping last night and put a pad on just to be safe. You felt like crap and would sometimes have to stop what you were doing, bending over to put pressure on your pelvis to help with the bout of pain. Currently you were standing in the kitchen doing the dishes, looking around the large space of your living area, your sink being on the island bench facing out so you could converse while cleaning up. The thought of how lucky you were despite your job and the things you have seen, you had an amazing 2 story house out in the hills, a loving boyfriend who you were hoping was going to propose to you at any time, but honestly didn't mind if you didn't get married. It was mainly the thought. You were basically husband and wife already, just without the legality and paperwork, and rings were a slight hazard, even though you would both wear gloves when out on a job.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the uncomfortable crampage turning up to a 9, causing you to squat down in a ball of discomfort and pain. You feel your skin going clammy and was sure you lost all your colour, one hand still holding onto the edge of the bench above your head. You were in so much pain you didn't even hear the door opening.

"I'm home!" Calls an all too familiar voice from the front door, all the way across the room from where the kitchen was. 

Strange.. There was no response? Leon was sure you were home. Dropping his keys in the bowl beside the entrance with a clang, he drops his bag while looking around. He could smell the citrus of the cleaning products you liked to use and saw a nicely lit house. You had opened all the curtains to the windows and letting a nice cool breeze in. Yeah you were definitely here, so why were not you running at him and leaping into his arms like he would normally be welcomed home.

"(Y/N)? You here?" He calls scanning the kitchen area and seeing some fingers, white from gripping the edge tight. They lift up and give a wave.

"Over here.." You say grunting out your words.

That didn't sound good, Leon makes his way towards the kitchen and peers around the island bench to see you scrunched up in a ball. He walks over to you and kneels down placing a hand on your shoulder, you felt all cold and clammy. "Hey.. What's wrong?" He asked with worry in his voice. Seeing your flushed face as you look up to him, your nose wrinkled in pain.

"Period.." Was all you could get out, exhaling through the cramp, this one was lasting a while.

Leon's shoulders relax, he thought you had been hurt, well, you were hurting, but it was nothing either of you could really do and you weren't bleeding out. Well.... You were, but this was the 'natural' type. "Alright, up we go." He said lifting you into his arms. He gives you a kiss on the temple as he walks you over to the lounge.

"Welcome home, by the way." You were starting to come back to reality, the cramping finally starting to calm to a more bareable pain.

"We really should get you checked out, I'm a guy and even I don't think this is normal." He said skipping over your welcome home, but it didn't go unappreciated.

"I know.. But when have I got the time? The appointments have to be made in advance and we don't know when we will be back or going out on jobs." You say as Leon places you down on the couch. He gives a frustrated look as you were very right, but he hated seeing you this way. It wasn't often, thank god, but when it did happen he absolutely abhorred that your body would do this to you.

"Do you think maybe you could be pregnant? You seem to be in more pain than normal?" He asked. "I heard one of the office girls talk about the pain she felt before she found out she was pregnant."

You shake your head. "No.. I'm bleeding this time."

"Oh.. Right." He sounded disappointed. You knew he wanted at least one kid. Though you were both getting older, and having a child in your line of work was just a death wish for the child. That or easy orphanage, and Leon was an orphan so he didn't want to put any child through that. But he still would have that glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Leon makes his way to the hallway leading to the bathroom, toilet and 2 guest rooms. Opening the doors of a closet built into the wall, he takes out a maroon wheat pack. Placing it in the microwave for 3 minutes, he searches around the kitchen cupboards for some snacks. You had said you were out shopping the other day when he called you from how bored he was, then he suddenly remembered. Walking over to his bag beside the front door he picks it up and takes it over to you. 

Kneeling down in front of you on the couch he reaches into his bag, pulling out some sour lollies, a box of Ferrero Rocher's and a very crushed flower he had picked on his way home. "Oh.. um.. This did look pretty." He said with a sheepish smile, you take it from his hand anyway and smell it.

"It still smells nice though." You smile and lean towards him, Leon closing the gap between you as your lips touch and a quick kiss.

The microwave beeps and he makes his way over there, removing the wheat back and bouncing it in his hand as it was hot to the touch to start with. You realise the room starting to get darker, hearing the curtains being closed.

"You don't have to, I know you like the sunlight coming through."

"I do, but we can't watch a movie with the glare." He replies. Grabbing a blanket from the another couch before laying it over you, placing the wheat pack over your pelvis. You sigh with relief after a short moment, Leon standing beside you until he heard your discomfort lessening. 

"What movie were you thinking of watching?" You ask knowing what the answer was going to be already. 

"Do you even have to ask?" He said grabbing the remote controls, sitting you up he grabs a few pillows to place on his lap so you could lean against them.

"Kung Fu Panda 2 it is then." You smile as you lean back into the pillows and as Leon wraps his arms around you. You were already eating the sour lollies he had bought. "Did you just happen to grab these?"

"Well I was going to ask if you wanted a date night and this could be after snacks. But plans have changed and I'll go out to get some takeaway." He answers pressing another few kisses to your temple. He had really missed you, both dancing around each other with separate jobs lately over the passed month. You would come home and Leon would have been pulled out to work that previous night, then he would come home and you had been sent international that morning.

"Sorry.." You apologise feeling guilty that you had ruined his plans.

"Sorry? It's not your fault you're in pain." He reasons, not accepting the apology. "Besides, I get a week off so we can do whatever you want when you are ready." He smiled and starts to search for his favourite movie. 

You both spend the rest of the afternoon watching the movie then catching up, just talking about your jobs and what you had experienced, needing to talk to each other about it and how you were feeling. Leon then leaves to get some Chinese and sushi, coming home with many different options. Tonight was a night of alcohol, laughing and feasting.

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Hmmm... how 'bout some HCs about winding down with Ralph after a long day?

yay!! more ralphie HCs 🥰

(and i’m sorry this took longer than expected my love 🖤 i passed out the other night and had work all day the last few days 😅)

Ralphie has never said much about his job, but you’ve seen how exhausted it makes him throughout the week

Nevertheless, he still tries his hardest to always make sure you know you’re loved and adored by him

He can see how much work you get done when he’s not home and he’s always so happy to get to home home to you every day

Still, even on his days off, he can get exhausted quite quickly

You had your own list of things to get done during the day, but for some reason, today had racked on more things than you were used to

Dishes, dusting, vacuuming, and of course you had to go out shopping for the groceries and a few new accessories Ralph had ordered for the two of you to wear to dinner next week

The both of you laughed when you arrived home at the same time

Ralph brought his things inside before helping you bring the groceries in and you put them away together

The house was quiet and once the both of you looked over at each other after putting away the groceries you both agreed you needed a well deserved night of relaxation

No getting all dressed up, no going out, no parties, just peace and quiet at home together

You went upstairs into your shared bedroom and changed into your pajamas, letting your hair down and helping Ralphie brush out his curls

He gave you a sweet kiss onto your cheek before helping you brush out your own hair, making sure to be gentle

With one more kiss, you grabbed a few things from your bedroom and headed downstairs into the living room

Ralph grabbed his ukulele to quietly strum and you grabbed a book to read on one of the sofas

He had lit the fireplace and turned on the radio to play some soothing music for the two of you as you sat onto the couch

He had even grabbed one of the soft throw blankets from the hall closet and draped it over you on the couch before heading off into the kitchen

Once he came back he set a little tray of snacks onto the table before you as he sat next to you on the couch

Cheese, crackers, a few little fruits that were prepared in the fridge and some meat from the local butcher you had been saving for a night like this

As you snacked and talked about your days you couldn’t help but lean over to sneak a few kisses onto his cheeks as he sat next to you

You knew he loved it when you gave him lots of affection

He had laid himself onto the couch, his head resting in your lap as he quietly strummed on his ukulele, one of your hands holding up your book while the other was in his hair, massaging his scalp

It had been so long since the two of you were able to have a nice night in together, especially one as relaxing as this

Every now and then he’d stop his strumming and look up to you for a moment, only for you to give him a smile and lean down to give him a gentle kiss before going back to your respective hobbies

He always loved getting to relax with you after long days like this one, but just being able to come home to you was enough to put a smile on his face again

[zeroweeenies]

“Checkmate”

Desc: you and megumi play a “game” after your date plans get cancelled from the blizzard.

Character(s): Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

an: whichever anon requested this I hope you see this ♡

94: “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to”

98: “First one to make noise loses”

126: “Y-you’re not wearing anything under that are you?”

WARNINGS: 69-ing, reverse cowgirl, mirror fucking, anal mentioned, competitive reader, not proof read, aged up megumi, 18+ minors dni

The snowstorm had ruined all of your plans.

You and your boyfriend had been planning this date for your two year anniversary for weeks now, so you were disappointed when you found that your car was snowed in on the sidewalk. The city buses and trains were out of service as well, and cab services refused to travel in the frigid weather.

You were on the brink of tears before you felt Fushiguro approach you from behind and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I’m sorry baby, we can order out if you want.” he speaks into the crook of your neck

You push back the tears that were welling in your eyes “I was really looking forward to this ‘Gumi, do you know how long we’ve been talking about this? Tonight was important.”

It was true. You managed to get a reservation at one of the most renowned restaurants in the city. It also didn’t help that you put on your most expensive attire, a silken black dress that stopped just above your knee with a back that sloped down to the top of your bum and the neckline resting at the top of your breasts.

You even made efforts to do your makeup and style your hair neatly.

“And it’s all ruined because of this stupid storm,” you kicked your foot at the wall and crossed your arms in true brat frashion.

Megumi took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well it doesn’t have to be completely ruined. How ‘bout we watch some tv?” he suggested “Order some food, hm? I know you’re hungry” he planted kisses to shoulder and neck whilst rubbing your hip tenderly.

“Tch, whatever.” you stated, walking off to wherever.

Poor Megumi. He just wanted to make his girlfriend happy despite the unfortunate circumstances they found themselves in, and here she was being a brat.

The dark haired boy rubbed the area between his eyes and loosened his tie before taking out his phone to call the pizza delivery service.

You were sitting in the living room watching tv, legs sprawled across the length of the couch with your head in Megumi’s lap when you heard the doorbell ring. “I’ll get it!” you sprung up from your position on the couch, sprinting to the door.

When you open the door, you’re met with the pizza delivery guy.

“Thanks.” you grab the box from his hands containing the food. “How much do I owe you?” you avert your gaze

The male in front of you scans his eyes up and down your body, taking in your appearance. His eyes land on your breasts before speaking again. “It’s on the house,” he smiles nervously. “You look stunning. Can I have your number?”

You can’t even finish your next sentence before you feel a looming presence behind you, gripping the side of your waist firmly.

“She does look beautiful doesn’t she?” Megumi kisses the side of your cheek possessively, causing your face to heat up. “Anyways thanks for the free pizza, man” he smiles as the driver protests before slamming the door.

You stroll back to the couch, scolding Megumi for being rude. “You didn’t have to close the door in his face.”

“Are you really defending him? He was clearly trying to hit on you.”

“Yeah, but he was sweet” you smile, taking a bite from your food before you feel a stiff grip around your neck.

“Oh yeah?” he turns your face to meet his glare. “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to, bunny.”

You smile up at him “Don’t threaten me with a good time babe.” He releases your neck, turning his attention to the tv.

“You’re such a damn brat.” he chuckles to himself, finally taking a slice of pizza into his mouth.

“Mmm, but you love it” you reply cheekily, snuggling under his arm to get warm.

It felt like hours had passed, and you felt yourself growing bored. You complain to Megumi next to you, who was on the verge of sleep.

“How about we play a game?”

A game? You wondered what he had in mind.

“A sex game. It would be just like all the other times we’ve done it, with a few rules in place of course.”

You sat up to look at him “What are the rules?”

Megumi was interested now. He smirked before explaining the stipulations. “First one to make noise loses. Breathing is allowed, but if you breathe too loud you lose. Cursing is allowed as well.”

“And what do I get if I win?” you pique.

“What is it that you want?” You reflected over the question. There was a stuffie that you really wanted that you saw at the mall the other day, or you could make your boyfriend do something embarrassing. And there was always the option of making him do house chores for a certain period of time.

You think over it a while longer before the perfect idea pops into your head “If I win, I want to dom you.”

Megumi always fulfilled the dominant role in the bedroom, forcing you to always submit to him, bending you to his every will. As much as you enjoyed letting him take control, you sought to bring him to his knees.

“Okay.”

Your eyes widen, surprised by his answer. “You’re sure?”

He nods his head “Yeah. I don’t mind playing subby for you. But I still haven’t said what I wanted yet.”

Your eyebrow ticked up. You knew it was almost too good to be true. Your heart raced in anticipation over what Megumi could possibly want as his prize.

“Anal. If I win, I get to fuck you in the ass.”

Your mouth gaped open at the request. It’s not like you were uncomfortable with his request. Hell, you and Megumi were always trying new things in the bedroom. The most he’s done was stick his tongue in your ass. But full on butt stuff was a whole new territory for you.

Megumi encouraged you to step out of your comfort zone, but he’d never pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do. If there was something you didn’t like and you wanted him to stop he’d stop immediately, no questions asked.

“Okay,” you swallowed. “When does the game start?”

“Now” Megumi stated, attacking your lips hungrily. You were overwhelmed by the kiss, running out of breath as he pulled you into his lap.

You ran your fingers through his unusually styled hair, tugging lightly as he ground his hips up to meet your cunt. Megumi could feel your naked heat against his pants, causing him to let out a shaky breath.

“Y-you’re not wearing anything under that are you?” Megumi breaks the kiss, breath ragged as he stares down at where your bodies collide.

“Nope,” you state, popping the ‘p’ as you connect your lips with his jawline.

You were completely naked save the dress you were wearing in hopes that Megumi would fool around with you under the table at your date, but of course that plan was out of mind now.

Sucking bruises into Megumi’s neck, he trails his hand down to your already dripping slit to get you to moan, caressing your clit in small circles.

You nearly mewl at the sensation, almost forgetting the rules of the game. You knew what he was trying to do, but you weren’t going to let him win that easily.

“‘Gumi come on, I need it.” you rocked your hips against him, desperate for him to stop toying with you.

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, princess” he slows the motions on your clit tantalizingly, groping your breast with the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders.

“Fuck me, make me cum. Do something, anything, please.” In one swift motion, Megumi picks you up and carries you into the bedroom, practically throwing you onto the bed.

Situating himself on the bed, he pats his lap, a quiet gesture that you’re familiar with.

You bit your lip, turning your body until your pussy was angled right in front of his face.

You gripped his hard on through his pants that were already stained with precum, earning a whispered “fuck” from him.

You took his dick out, licking the tip before taking him all the way in your warm mouth.

Megumi threw his head back continuing to toy with your clit under your dress.

You were sucking him so good, taking his cock all the way to the back of your throat while vacuuming your cheeks. You bobbed your head up and down, gagging each time you felt his length touch your esophagus.

With Megumi’s strangled grunts and the way you were sucking him you were sure that you were going to win, until you felt his mouth on you.

Fushiguro’s cock slipped from your mouth as he sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around his mouth. The way he ate you felt so good, your orgasm already coiling in your lower belly.

Megumi was a fighter and he was playing to win, but so were you. As good as it felt, you weren’t going to let him have this, especially when you were so close to winning.

His cock twitched in your mouth, signaling that he was close. You sucked him harder, faster, your hand fisting him in an effort to get him to cum quicker.

Knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer, Megumi pulled you off of him by your hair, a string of drool connecting your mouth to his cock.

He positioned himself behind you, rubbing his length up and down your glistening folds.

“Can’t have you ending the game early, now can I?”

“You’re a dirty fucking chea-” you managed to get out as he plunged into you, his fat head grazing your cervix.

Your eyes shut from the sudden penetration, your mouth open with saliva running down your chin as Megumi thrusts in and out of you roughly, the only sounds filling the room being silent curses and the lewd squelches of your sloppy cunt.

“Look at you, what a desperate little cockslut,” he pulls your head up to face the mirror that sits in front of your bed, your ruined makeup on display. “Look at how I fuck you, only I can fuck you like this,” you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, Megumi pulling your hair harshly making your back arch at a painful angle.

“You gonna cum? Come on baby, cum for me so I can win. I’m dying to fuck this little ass”

You push him off of you causing him to fall back on his elbows. “Shut the fuck up.” You slide up and down him at the new angle, your ass bouncing beautifully as Megumi lets out a slew of curses from behind you.

Your victory felt so close as you felt his cock twitch inside you, milking him for all he was worth. Your win was snatched from you, feeling Megumi’s thumb press inside your asshole, causing you to let out a shriek.

“Checkmate,” Megumi sits up and begins to drill your cunt, your breasts bouncing as he ruthlessly fucks into your hole.

“Y-you cheated,” you sniffle, tears brimming your eyes as you realize your loss.

“Awww, don’t be a sore loser baby, you lost fair and square.” he drags his cock out of you before slamming back into you, every thrust making you cry out more than the last.

“Now cum for me like a good girl” he reaches forward to pinch your clit, making you cum instantly.

The moans you had been holding back the entire time spill out, the aftershocks of your orgasm crashing over you. Megumi pulls out, shooting his seed on your back. You sink into the mattress, sobbing over the realization of your defeat.

“Don’t cry pretty girl,” He smiled breathlessly.

“I haven’t even claimed my prize yet.”

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Loved your tags on the Brenda Strong reblog! We need it as the new supercorp au!

Well, sOMEONE gave me an idea of OG!Lillian losing her memory and staying with Eliza for a while, and all day during work I was daydreaming of amnesia!Lillian slowly being told her life and being eager and excited to meet her daughter, only to find herself facing off against each member of the superfriends first as they try to suss out whether the memory loss is legit and/or whether she deserves to be in Lena’s presence. But finally she passes the final test (Kara) and when Lena still resists meeting her, Lillian overhears her trying to explain why it’s a bad idea. “None of you get it: she is a master manipulator. Lex didn’t exist in a vacuum-- he had to learn it from somewhere, and he learned it from our father and from her.”

But Kara ultimately talks her into it, and Lillian finally finds herself face to face with the woman who is her daughter. Her beautiful, beautiful daughter. Except her daughter doesn’t do anything except sit there-- no eye contact, no attempts at conversation. Lillian finally breaks the silence. “It’s so good to finally see you...”

She reaches over to take Lena’s hand, but Lena pulls away before she can make contact. Lillian instead lets her hand rest on the table between them. A peace offering. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you. About your work in National City.”

Lena doesn’t respond.

“They say you’re a such a force for good--”

“Just-- stop,” Lena says finally. “You might have fooled them, but I’m not.”

“What they’ve told you is true-- I don’t remember--”

“And even if that were true, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Finally, Lena meets her eye, but her gaze is cold. Cruel. “You are not a good person.”

Lillian’s heart falls, and only now does she realize how bad an idea this had been.

“I spent half of my life trying to earn your love and the other half trying to get away from you. Don’t think for a moment that I’m going to let you weasel your way into my life after I’ve finally gotten you out of it.”

So... it doesn’t go well. Ostensibly, Lena and Kara are in Midvale to visit Eliza over the fourth of July weekend. Kara planned to spend the night in her childhood home, but Lena refuses. 

“I won’t be under the same roof as her--”

“I’ll leave,” Lillian says. 

Eliza looks at her in sympathy, but doesn’t protest. “Perhaps it would be for the best. We can put you up in the local bed and breakfast for the weekend, and then after...”

After. After doesn’t matter to Lillian. Not when her only free and living child wants nothing to do with her. She lets Eliza make the plans, and collects her meager belongings into a borrowed suitcase. In a bout of stubborn refusal to quit, when Eliza invites her to the community cookout and fireworks display, Lillian accepts. If only to be in the vicinity of Lena, to observe her daughter and feel a part of her in even so distant a way, if only for the opportunity to show Lena that she is different than whoever she might have been.

But when she arrives the following afternoon, she learns that Lena remained behind alone. “To watch the house,” Eliza says, though the excuse is clear to everyone who hears it. Lillian also notices that her daughter’s partner Kara is also missing. 

“Called back to work in National City,” is the official party line, but Lillian isn’t sure she believes it any more than she believes Lena’s excuse. She tries to enjoy herself, but her thoughts are blocks away, with the woman who refuses to be her daughter.

The evening deepens to night, and as the fireworks display commences, Lillian tries to lose herself in the explosions that rock the very air. Soon though, the feeling of wrongness that’s been following Lillian all night catches up to her with a foggy sky and the scent of not sulphur, but woodsmoke.

“Fire!” a voice cries. “Fire! Fire!”

All heads snap towards the distant voice, and widen when they spot the glow of a building fire in the direction of Eliza’s cul-de-sac. The crowd on the beach move as one towards the scene, Lillian at the lead. Heart pounding against her ribs, she hears the wail of sirens approaching: too distant, too slow.

“Lena!” she screams as the burning house comes into view. “Lena!”

Lena isn’t on the street-- she isn’t anywhere to be seen. Realization hits like a bolt of lightning, and someone tries to hook an arm around her as she makes for the front door. Lillian wrenches herself free. “My daughter is in there!” 

 They aren’t strong enough or quick enough to stop her before she barrels through the front door. Lillian’s brain works rapidly to piece together that if the fire started on the ground floor, then the only reason Lena wouldn’t have made it out is if she were asleep on the top floor, where she would likely be unconscious from smoke inhalation. She thunders up the stairs, coughing as the smoke grows dense. Staying low, she sweeps through each room until she finds Lena in the attic room, unconscious on Kara’s bed. 

Lillian gathers her daughter up as best she can and drags her back downstairs, through the front door and out onto the grass of the front lawn, coughing all the way. Eliza and her daughter Alex look at her as though they’ve seen a ghost, but all Lillian can think of is that her daughter isn’t coughing.

“She isn’t breathing!” she cries, desperately. Tears spill down her cheeks, and not just from the smoke. Without hesitating, she lays Lena flat and begins to administer rescue breathing. Counting and breathing and crying, her world narrows to her task alone, until the hands of paramedics crowd her vision, moving her aside even as they reach for Lena.

“It’s all right ma’am,” one says gently. “We’ve got her from here.”

Lillian follows them to the hospital, and waits as her daughter is treated for smoke inhalation. Soon, she’s informed that Lena is comatose, and on a respirator. 

“I’d like to sit with her, please.”

No one thinks to tell her no. And so Lillian waits, for hours, over a day for her daughter to wake. Doctors come in and apprise her of Lena’s condition, but nothing prepares her for the fear that creeps into Lena’s eyes when they finally open, and she realizes there’s a tube down her throat. Nothing prepares Lillian for the way that fear amplifies the moment Lena lays eyes on her.

“Sweetheart, please,” she begs, “it’s okay, you’re okay. Please, calm down--”

But when Lillian reaches for her daughter’s hand Lena recoils again, and begins to thrash against the restraints that have kept her from pulling out her tube. Choked, muttering sobs emerge around the tube, and sickening gurgles chill Lillian to the core even as a new body inserts itself between them.

“Lena!” Kara says, taking Lena’s face between her hands. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe. Please, calm down... come on, breathe with me. In... out... don’t fight the tube, Lena, okay? Breathe with it... in... out...”

Slowly the monitors cease their shrill screaming, and only then does Lillian realize that doctors have converged as well, only to hold back until Lena was calm again.

“It’s okay, Lena. She’s leaving. She’s leaving...”

And Lillian does. She leaves the room, and doesn’t look back.

---

She can’t leave the hospital. Lillian makes it as far as the emergency room doors before the pull of Lena draws her back. This time, she sits with the others, waiting with bated breath for Kara to come back with news. 

When she does, Kara sits next Lillian directly. 

“They’ve extubated her,” the girl says softly. Woman, really. Kara is young, comparatively, yet old beyond her years with a weight Lillian can’t quite place. She offers Lillian a tired smile. “She’ll be okay.”

“She was afraid of me.”

Kara nods, not bothering to deny the truth. “She thought.... well, it doesn’t matter what she thought.” She runs a hand across her eyes. “You saved her life.”

“She’s my daughter.” The words come soft, almost plaintive, as though Lillian herself can’t quite believe them. 

“Thank you,” is all Kara returns.

---

Lena’s released a few days later. Kara takes her home to National City, and Lillian believes it to be the end of anything she might have had with her daughter. She tries to banish it from her mind, and focuses instead on Eliza, who now has the unfortunate burden of having had her home burn to the ground. They, at least, are friends, and Eliza seems to appreciate her support, however meager it is. 

Two days later, Lillian gets a call she isn’t expecting. 

“She wants to see you,” Kara says.

Lillian leaves Midvale that very minute with Eliza’s blessing. She makes the drive in record time, and soon finds herself in an apartment that’s both lavish and cozy, full of a warm life she thus far hasn’t been privy to. 

In the bedroom, Lena sits propped up with pillows, a box of tissues on one side and a waste bin on the other. “Sorry for the mess,” Lena croaks, cracking open one eye as the door creaks shut behind Lillian. “What I’m coughing up hasn’t exactly been pretty.”

Lillian sits on the furthest end of the bed. She itches to reach for Lena, to care and to mother her, but folds her hands in her lap instead in deference to the undercurrent of wariness that still runs through her daughter’s voice. 

“You saved my life,” is all Lena says after a moment. “Usually you don’t do that unless you have an ulterior motive. Like murder.”

Lillian flinches, but then freezes when she catches the slight hint of a smile playing at Lena’s lips. 

“Joking,” comes the rasping assurance. “Old-you would’ve gotten it.”

Instead of jumping in on the joke, Lillian finds herself fighting tears. “I really haven’t been much of a mother to you, have I?”

“No, you haven’t.” But this time it comes without malice, without judgement. 

Lillian wipes her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lena. I wish-- I wish I had been better to you. You-- you deserve--- every happiness.”

“I do,” Lena agrees again. “But the good news is, I finally have people who let me believe that.”

“Good,” Lillian says breathlessly. “That’s... good.”

A long moment of silence passes between them. 

“I believe you,” Lena admits finally. Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “I don’t know what that means for anything between us, but--- I believe that you’re not... yourself.”

Lillian nods carefully. “It’s hard to hear the things I did. It feels like some other person entirely. I know it’s not,” she says quickly, “not really. But... I want to be better than her. Than who I was.”

Lena looks at her carefully. This time, Lillian looks back, holding her daughter’s gaze. 

“Will you help me?”

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

The 4 Times Luke Got Sick + The 1 Time He Got Julie Sick

Pairing: Julie x Alive!Luke (college AU)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: light swearing, non-fatal illness

Summary: Luke was always getting sick. It was probably the worst things about being roommates with him, Julie decided. That, and when they’d first moved into their dorm Freshman year of college he’d tried to hit on all her friends. It seemed like every year the poor guy went through at least one serious bout of illness that Julie would have to practically nurse him back to health from.

A/N: I got 2 anon requests for sick!Juke this week, one for a College Roommates AU where Luke constantly gets sick and Julie takes care of him and another where they’re friends and neighbors but have crushes on each other that don’t come to light until they both get sick together feat. Mothering Rose. I decided to combine them since they had a similar theme, I hope that’s alright! As per usual, let me know what you think and send me a message if you’d like to be added to my taglist! Also, I am taking requests right now so feel free to send those in!

Masterlist

___

1 - Freshman Year

“Juuuulie,” Luke called from his bedroom.

“Whaaaat?” Julie called back from her own room, making no attempt to get up from her bed.

“Can you come here so we can stop yelling?” He whined and she rolled her eyes but rolled out of her bed unceremoniously.

Given the coed nature of the dorms, they were each provided a small separate bedroom connected with a combined living room space that currently could use a good vacuuming, she noted as she walked through it before pausing at Luke’s door. It was only about three months into the semester and while Luke and Julie had become fast friends through their love of music, she hadn’t really been in his room before.

She raised her fist to give a hesitant knock, not really sure what the protocol was.

“You can come in,” he laughed but for the first time in their conversation, Julie noticed that his voice seemed a little off.

When she stepped into the room she immediately knew why. Luke lay in bed, slightly propped up by his pillow. She immediately noticed how red his face and nose, in particular, looked and the pile of used tissues next to the bed.

“Woah, dude, are you sick?” Julie exclaimed, immediately taking a step back in an attempted to put as much distance between herself and the sick boy as possible.

“Yeah,” he croaked sheepishly, “Sorry, I guess I should’ve warned you.”

“Ya think?” She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest but smirking to let him know she wasn’t that mad about it. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Um, yeah, actually. I was gonna ask if you could run down to the market and get me some chicken noodle soup?”

Julie nodded, happy to be able to help her sick friend.

“Sure! Is there any medication I can pick up from the pharmacy for you or anything?” She offered but he shook his head, pulling open the top drawer of his bedside table revealing that it was full of various medicines.

“I, uh, came prepared,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “My immune system is pretty shit.”

Julie nodded.

“I better get you that soup then, huh?” She said kindly, starting to feel awkward lingering in the doorway.

“My wallet is in my jacket pocket,” Luke offered, pointing to the coat hanging in his closet.

Julie nodded in silent thanks as she pocketed the piece of leather, closing the door on her way out. Despite the sunshine, it was a short but chilly walk to the campus market, which was fortunately only a couple of blocks away from their residence hall. She located the soup fairly quickly but stopped to look through the tea options, grabbing a box of peppermint and chamomile tea bags. The check-out process was fast and she was back in her dorm only a few minutes later.

Before even taking off her coat or slipping off her shoes, she put the soup in the microwave and started up her electric kettle. While she was waiting she then busied herself with hanging up her coat in her own closet and leaving her shoes in their designated spot by the door.

“What are you doing out there, Molina?” Luke groaned from his room when the kettle started whistling.

She quickly switched it off, bustling around the designated “kitchen” area of their dorm for a mug to start steeping the peppermint tea. No sooner than she placed the teabag into the mug had the microwaved beeped, signaling that the soup was ready. Bowl in one hand and mug in the other, Julie pushed the door open with her shoulder, slowly stepping into the room in an attempt not to spill either of the hot liquids in her hands.

She gingerly set the mug on a cleared space on Luke’s desk before handing him the chicken noodle soup.

“What’s that?” He asked, gesturing to the mug with his spoon before eating some of the soup.

“It’s peppermint tea,” she answered factually. “My mom always makes it for me when I’m sick, it supposed to help with congestion and should soothe your throat.”

“You’re the best, Molina,” Luke said graciously, slurping another mouthful of soup.

“Damn right I am!” Julie laughed, “Let me know if you need anything else, I’ll be in my room.”

___

2 - Sophomore Year

Julie wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t anticipated this. Maybe she’d hoped that all the elderberry and echinacea tea she’d made him drink last year had actually helped his immune system, but nope. November had rolled around and with it, cold season and cold season meant that Luke would undoubtedly get sick. He wasn’t lying, his immune system really was shit. This year was worse though. While last year it had been a series of bad colds, this year it was the flu.

She’d found out when he’d vomited in the middle of a rehearsal with the band they’d formed at the end of the previous year with two other guys they’d met in one of their music classes.

She’d been keeping an eye on him all day as he’d been shivering a lot and seemed especially pale but she had figured the boy knew his immune system better than anyone else and would say something if he was feeling sick. Obviously not.

“Oh my gosh, Luke! Are you okay?” She gasped, rushing over to rub his back soothingly as he bent over the trash can in the spare music room they’d occupied for rehearsal.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, waving her off as he stood back up with the intention of picking his guitar back up.

However, Julie stopped him, placing her hand against his forehead with a frown.

“You have a fever.” She said disapprovingly and he sighed.

“It’s fine Molina, we gotta practice.”

“Nuh-uh.” She insisted sternly, sticking out an arm to hold him in place. “You are not gonna get the rest of us sick. I’m driving you to the campus health center and then we’re going home.”

Luke huffed and rolled his eyes but relented, moving to slide his electric into its case and grab his jacket.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“We’ll see you guys later,” Julie sent Alex and Reggie an exasperated smile before following the boy out.  

The campus health center confirmed Julie’s suspicions, it was the flu. They picked up his prescription medicine at the campus pharmacy next door before heading back to their shared dorm.

“Will you make me soup?” Luke pleaded as Julie made sure he was settled comfortably in his bed, his lip stuck out in an irrefutable pout. “And Mama Molina’s special tea?”

Julie smiled at the nickname which Luke had coined last year as Julie often referenced her mother when taking care of the seemingly constantly sick boy. The name had stuck and then been made official when the guys had visited her over the summer break and Luke had accidentally called her mother it. Rose Molina fell in love with it instantly and now Luke, Alex, and Reggie all exclusively referred to her as such.

“Of course,” she said, rolling her eyes lightly. There was nothing special about Mama Molina’s tea, it was just a cup of peppermint tea with a little bit of honey but it had seemed to work wonders for Luke last year and he much preferred it to the cocktail of cough syrup and sinus pills he’d normally take.

As she delivered the steaming soup and tea, Julie prayed that her superior immune system and flu shot would keep her safe from contracting her roommate’s illness while she took care of him. Still, she tried her best to keep her distance while keeping an eye on him.

She started him on a new Netflix series in an attempt to keep him from going stir crazy in the dorm while she was in class. She picked up all his missing work and made sure he had plenty of soup and tea (peppermint in the daytime to clear up congestion and soothe his cough, and chamomile in the evening to help him sleep).

“You’re too good for me, Molina.” He said sleepily as she tucked him into bed one night.

“I know,” she responded with a smirk, patting his cheek lightly before leaving, turning off the light as she went.

___

3 - Junior Year

Luke’s annual illness came later the next year. All November and December Julie was on high alert, ready at a moment’s notice to grab a can of chicken noodle soup from their cupboards and start up the kettle, but the moment never came. They’d finally moved out of the dorms this year, now living in an off-campus apartment with Alex and Reggie, which meant they had more room for Julie to store her supply of soup and tea and she had two backup caregivers.

When the new year rolled around and Luke still hadn’t shown any signs of getting sick, Julie had remarked,

“Maybe you’ve finally built up your immune system enough.”

The next week Luke was calling for her from his room across the hall.

It was the flu again but this time it was easier.

Julie, Alex, and Reggie took turns taking care of their sick roommate while the others were in classes, though everyone agreed that Julie had to be in charge of the tea. Despite Julie’s insistence that it was easy to make, Alex and Reggie refused after their first attempts had been scorned by Luke who insisted they did it wrong.

“You are such a drama queen,” she’d said, rolling her eyes at the boy as she delivered the tea.

“You’re the best, Molina.” He’d said as he took a sip, ignoring her comment on his dramatics.

“Shut up and drink your tea.” Julie laughed, brushing off the compliment as she turned on Netflix, taking a seat on the other side of the living room.

___

4 - Senior Year

After what all their friends had insisted was years of tension and pining, Luke and Julie got together just in time for Luke to catch pneumonia. It was the worst virus Luke had caught yet and Julie was silently glad that their relationship was new enough that they hadn’t kissed yet. Judging by Luke’s state, she hoped she never got pneumonia.

He had a fever for the first few days and Julie, Alex, and Reggie did their best to keep their distance, only coming into his room to deliver soup, tea, water, and medicine. Once the fever had disappeared, Luke was allowed to rejoin the rest, though only from a distance. The four roommates spending the afternoons in the living room together to keep the boy company as he laid on the couch. Still, even with the fever gone Luke spent the next week and a half nearly hacking up his lungs every time he coughed and with stabbing chest pains.

“You’re not eating your soup,” Julie noticed one afternoon as she did her homework on the opposite side of the living room, Alex and Reggie both in class.

“I’m not hungry,” Luke whined, pushing the bowl farther away on the coffee table.

Julie frowned, getting up from her armchair to perch across from him on the coffee table, picking up the bowl.

“Babe, you’ve gotta eat,” Julie said pointedly and Luke frowned at the term of endearment, knowing she was using it to convince him to do what she said. “The doctor said you’d have a loss of appetite, but you need to eat.”

“C’mon, open up,” she instructed, holding out a spoonful of soup.

Luke huffed, glaring at his girlfriend but opening his mouth anyway, allowing her to spoon-feed him.

“Wow, I did not think Luke could get any needier,” Reggie remarked as he stepped into the apartment, Alex coming in behind him.

“Don’t get used to that,” he added, “Cause I will not feed you while Julie’s in class.”

Julie laughed, ruffling her boyfriend’s hair affectionately before feeding him another spoonful.

“I don’t deserve you, Molina,” he said affectionately between bites.

“Don’t you forget it, Patterson,” she smiled.

___

+ 1 Year Later

After graduation in May, Julie and the Phantoms released their first full album and began their first tour in the fall thanks to the large following they’d accrued through their posts on YouTube since sophomore year and the success of their album. They’d had been touring for a couple of months before they finally took a break, just in time for Christmas.

Alex, Reggie, and Julie had all made plans to spend the break with their families, Reggie staying with his older sister and their family and Alex and Julie with their respective parents. However, Luke’s parents had found themselves on a business trip out of the country which is how the boy ended up spending his first Christmas at the Molina’s. Ray and Rose had been more than happy to have the boy stay with them when Julie explained the situation, though Ray had insisted on a strict policy of the two never being alone in the same room before Rose reminded him that Julie and Luke had been living together for five years and were grown adults.

The Molinas and Luke had a lovely Christmas together but when Julie woke up two days later she wished they had instituted her dad’s No Alone Time policy. She groggily made her way to the kitchen, rifling through the pantry for the peppermint tea to soothe her sore throat and hopefully clear up her sinuses. Before she could get very far though, her mom walked into the kitchen, immediately catching on to what she was doing. Julie rarely reached for tea on her own, hot chocolate being her hot beverage of preference, so Rose knew something must be up when she found her daughter rifling through the tea shelf.

“Go lay on the couch, Niña,” she insisted, ushering her daughter out of the kitchen, “I’ll take care of this.”

Julie did as she said, finding her favorite blanket from the basket in the corner and cuddling up on the couch. Her mom came in a few minutes later with her favorite mug in hand, setting it down on the coffee table in front of Julie.

“Don’t burn yourself, it’s hot,” Rose warned, placing a soft kiss on the top of her daughter’s head and patting her shoulder gently before returning to the kitchen to start on breakfast for the family.

It was only a couple of minutes later that Luke stumbled down the stairs calling her name.

“Juuuulie?” he pouted as he made his way into the living room. “Will you make me some tea?”

Her eyes went wide with the realization of how she’d gotten sick as she clutched her own mug of tea in her hands.

“So this is your fault,” she gasped, voice thick due to the congestion.

“What?” Luke asked, tilting his head in confusion, the fogginess in his brain from having just woken up and being sick preventing him from connecting the dots quickly.

“You got me sick.” She accused, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend who’s eyes widened in response.

“Oh my gosh, seriously?” He asked, concern immediately filling his voice. “I’m sorry Jules.”

“I haven’t gotten sick in over four years and all it takes is one germy kiss from you,” she whined and Luke barked out a laugh before wincing at the pain it caused his throat.

“Well, the good news is we can recover together,” he said, plopping down on the couch and snuggling into her side.

“Luke, honey, do you need a blanket?” Rose asked as she returned to the living room, another cup of tea in hand, the woman obviously having overheard them from the kitchen. Luke nodded sheepishly and Rose smiled, setting the tea down in front of him and crossing the room to grab a blanket.

“Thank you, Mama Molina,” he said graciously, wrapping himself in the fleece material and picking up his tea.

“Anything to get the two of you better before you have to go back on tour,” she said, patting both their shoulders lovingly before going back to her cooking.

Julie groaned at the reminder. They were supposed to start back on the road in a week, but with Luke’s track record of illnesses, there was no knowing how long either of them would be sick this time.

Fortunately, thanks to a diet of Rose’s homemade chicken noodle soup and tea remedy as well as medication, Julie and Luke were feeling better in a couple of days.

“I’d always known, but now I really see where you got your nursing skills from,” Luke remarked on the first morning he’d woken up able to breathe through his nose.

Julie grinned.

“You sure are lucky to have the Molina women in your life,” she teased.

“Damn right.” He nodded sincerely.

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

[cherryeol04]

Boyfriend (M)

Pairings : Changbin x Reader Genre: Smut, funny, romance, cute Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: This story contains smut. If you are not comfortable with it, please skip!

The one thing Y/N is grateful for, is the fact that on Tuesdays, she doesn't have classes. That meant she was free to sleep in as long as she wanted, do whatever she felt like and she didn't have to worry about getting up and going somewhere. Unless she wanted to go out shopping with a friend, then that was a different story. But for the most part Y/N spent her days off in her cozy little apartment, just enjoying herself. Sometimes she would do a little cleaning, after all she tended to have her boyfriend over often and he wasn't the best at cleaning up behind himself. But bless his heart, he tried. Changbin was a terror normally, walking around the place like he owned it. Y/N was actually surprised that there wasn't a bigger mess when she got up that morning. All of his music producing equipment had been packed up and sat neatly in the small corner of the bedroom that Y/N had deemed his area.

He had complained, saying he should have a bigger spot. But she had countered that he hadn't moved in with her and wasn't helping to pay the bills. Once he did that, he could have as big an area that he wanted. It effectively shut him up because despite the fact they had been dating for over seven months now, moving in was a step that neither one of them was ready to make. It was hard to spend time with each other usually. If Y/N wasn't busy with classes and assignments, then it was Changbin who was locked up in a studio at the university with his friends and co-workers Jisung and Chan - working on their latest track for classes or to upload on Soundcloud. Changbin usually wouldn't leave the studio until the early hours of the morning, to sleep for maybe an hour or two before getting back up and heading to class. It was difficult for them to see each other, but they tried. 

Though not living together, they did leave things over at each other's places, an excuse they used to be over at odd hours of the day. Like yesterday when Y/N really needed a pair of shoes that would match her cute sundress, she had to drive all the way over to Changbin's apartment to get them. It was worth it because she saw his inability to care for himself and ended up making him dinner for that night and lunch for the next day, all neatly stacked in containers and left in the fridge with a sweet note waiting for him on the counter. It was the small things that made this relationship worth it. Because even if she didn't see him as much as she wanted, finding the sweet notes or receiving the crazy sleep deprived texts always put a smile on her face and reminded her how much she loved him.

Of course, those things didn't negate the fact that she was still a woman and she had needs. Strong urges and desires that struck at the most inopportune time. Recently she had been fighting a bout of horniness that always hit her right in the middle of her afternoon class and by the time she got home, it had left, leaving her very frustrated and unsatisfied. She had a plan, however, to fix that. Since it was her day off, she might as well spend it getting off to the thoughts of her boyfriend. A few good orgasms, a hot shower and Netflix sounded like the perfect way to spend her afternoon.

After making sure the apartment was in better condition than it had been, she started her little robot vacuum and made her way back to her bedroom. Stripping out of her pajamas, she situated herself on her bed and reached over to her nightstand, opening the bottom drawer. She was greeted with the sight of the many different sex toys she owned. A few dildos, but most were vibrators of different size, strengths and looks to them. She had one that mimicked the look of a real dick, but the rest were mostly pink and purple, some with bulbous mushroom heads. For the most part they were smooth and rounded, perfect for an easy glide inside, though she could never deny how much she loved the feeling of a head spreading her hole wide. She took a moment to think, eyeing each toy before she grabbed one of the smaller vibrators, purple and made of silicon. It almost mimicked the look of rubber and she loved it's squishy texture.  

Grabbing the lube, she closed the draw and laid the items out next her as she made herself comfortable. Parting her legs lightly, she slowly ran her hands over her thighs, just feeling herself for a moment - enjoying the pleasure brought to her. Working herself up was what she wanted to do as she grazed her fingers over every inch of skin she could reach, thighs trembling as she occasionally teased her clit. She wanted to take it slow, build it up. After all, she had all day to herself. 

———

Changbin hadn’t planned to go over to Y/N’s place. But when he got the email stating his class was cancelled for the day, he decided that maybe he could get in some early work at the studio and then spend the evening with his girlfriend. In his mind, it was a great plan, except for the fact that he had left his equipment at Y/N’s place. It’s not that he minded going over there, it was just that he couldn’t remember if she had classes today or not and he really wanted it to be a surprise that he was coming over. 

He could just simply not work and spend time with her now, but he knew that Jisung and Chan were at the studio already working, and he really wanted to go and help. Maybe he could just sneak in and sneak out? Or if anything he could just say he needed his things for after class. With excuse in mind, Changbin made his way to his girlfriend’s apartment, only a short 5 minute drive from the school. 

He easily let himself in with the key he had and when he didn’t see Y/N in the living room or the kitchen when he passed by, he figured that she probably wasn’t home. Which was great news for him. Walking to the bedroom, he had just pushed open the door when a moan filtered through his ears and he froze in his tracks. His eyes landed on the bed, watching as his girlfriend played with herself. Her hand twisted, moving as she thrusted a toy in and out of herself, vibrations growing louder before fading with each thrust. The fingers of her other hand worked over her clit shamelessly, pulling louder moans and sighs of pleasure. 

“F-fuck, Changbin.”

Changbin’s dick twitched at the sound of his name and he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress a moan that wanted to escape. 

“Deeper. Harder.” Y/N’s hand did its best to fulfill her wishes but even Changbin noticed it just wasn’t delivering the power she wanted. 

“Well, well, well. Isn’t this such a lovely surprise.” Changbin called out, voice conveying a sense of confidence he didn’t think he could muster with the way his heart was pounding rapidly in his chest. The noise surprised Y/N and she jerked, all movements stopping as she stared at her boyfriend with a guilt express. 

“What are you doing here?” She whispered, voice slightly horse from the loud whining and moan she had been doing moments before. 

“Well I came to get my mixing equipment but instead I found a sexy little minx on the bed, all spread out and playing with herself.” He said, watching as she closed her legs around her arm, trying to hide herself from his hungry gaze. Not that he hadn’t seen her like this before. They’ve had sex plenty of times before. This was just the first time Changbin had caught her playing with herself. 

“I-I-“

“Want some help?” 

Y/N nodded her head slowly, carefully pulling out the vibrator from within her and turning it off. She was thinking that if Changbin was offering help, he would fuck her. She didn't expect him to walk over and take the toy from her grasp and turn it back on as he knelt on the edge of the bed. His eyes raked over her naked body, taking in each and every curve - admiring how hard and beautiful her nipples were. Chuckling to himself, he moved closer, sitting between her legs and making himself comfortable. Y/N shivered at the new position and once again tried to close her legs and hide herself from view, but Changbin's hands reached out quickly, pushing her thighs apart once more. 

"Don't do that." he said lightly, voice barely above a whisper, even though there was no reason to be quiet. He stared into her eyes, gaze soft as he tried to convey reassurance and acceptance to her. It seemed to work as she slowly relaxed and let her legs fall open, putting herself on full display for the other. Licking his lips, Changbin grinned as he leaned forward, fingers twisting the top of the vibrator to turn it on the lowest setting. Reaching down, he carefully brushed the tip of the toy against her clit, chuckling as she jerked at the sudden touch to the sensitive nub. 

"Oh fuck." she panted softly, her back arching slightly. Her hips jerked as her abdomen tightened and she tried to pull away from the touch, but the toy followed. "Changbin." she whimpered softly.  Changbin chuckled as he moved the toy, rubbing it against her while watching the way her body spasmed against his touch. 

"You're so beautiful baby, do you like this?" he asked. She nodded her head quickly, soft whimpers leaving her as he moved the toy down further to press against her opening. The tip slipped in and vibrated against her sensitive walls and she keened for more - for Changbin to go deeper and harder. He didn't though. Instead, he pulled the toy out and brought it back up and teased her clit once more. A loud cry left her quickly and she jerked and trembled under his touch, chest rising and falling with quick breaths. "I want you to cum for me." he whispered. "Can you do that?" Y/N nodded her head, ready to cum for the other. She had been teasing herself relentless for who knows how long and she had been getting close to the edge when Changbin walked in.

"Please." she begged almost pathetically, head falling back as she let the pleasure wash over her body - back and hips arching to get more of the pleasure from Changbin. The toy slipped down once more and slipped into her, a deep gasp leaving her as it was turned up in volume and the vibrations increased. Changbin pushed the toy in deeply and Y/N cried out, feeling the vibrations through her core as he shallowly thrusted the toy in and out. "Chang-" Her plea was cut off as Changbin's hot, wet tongue ran over her clit and she spasmed at it. "Oh fuck yes." she cried out and whimpered. Reaching down, she ran her fingers through his hair once before tangling them into the soft strands. Her hips jerked down, rocking down against his mouth and hand. He thrusted the toy in harder, angling it upwards as it stroked her walls - grazing against her g-spot every now and then to heighten the pleasure. His mouth worked over her clit, sucking and licking on it hungrily as his noisy slurps filled the room.

Y/N was tense under him, toes curling as the pleasure mounted inside her. She could feel it, the pressure getting ready to be released and she was so ready for it. "Changbin." she breathed out. "I'm going to cum." she gasped out. It was the only warning she could give as the pleasure reached its peak too quickly. She cried out as the tension released and her body jerked, hole clenching around the toy that was still moving inside her. "Oh fuck! Fuck!" she cried out, panting heavily as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. As she slowly calmed down, Changbin slowly turned down the vibrations of the toy, letting her get used to each level before turning it off slowly and slipping it out. Pulling back from her, he smirked, licking his lips clean of the sweet juices he had been lapping at. Tossing the toy onto the bed, he leaned over and ran a hand gently over her stomach, dragging it up and over each breast, teasing her nipples light with a smile. 

Whining, Y/N smacked at his hand lightly, but didn't push him away as he went back to rubbing his hand over her body. Leaning down, Changbin pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, followed by a few more kisses to her neck and one to her forehead. "You did so good baby," he whispered. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing." she whispered and looked up at him with a wide smile, eyes sparkling with the remnants of pleasure and love and adoration. "Thank you baby." she whispered. Changbin chuckled and gave her another kiss before sitting back on his heels.

"You're welcome." Shifting, he climbed off the bed and grabbed the covers, pulling them up and over her body, tucking her in. "Take a nap babe."

"What about you?" she asked, frowning as she looked down at the obvious boner he was sprouting, before looking back up at him.

"I'll be fine. I need to go and do some work." he told her and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before pressing his face against the top of her head gently. "Get some sleep okay? I'll see you later tonight. We can play then." he assured her as he pulled back and stared down at her.

"Promise?" 

"Promise." 

She wasn't happy, but she accepted it and after pulling Changbin down for one more kiss, she let him go and curled up on her side. She watched as he moved and grabbed his things, blew her a kiss and left the room. She could hear his footsteps echo lightly as he walked down the hall and eventually the door opened and closed as he left. Alone once more, she let her eyes close, ready to nap with the knowing promise that she could return the favor to him later. And she honestly, couldn't wait.

Tags: @runningonkpop @clandestine-lixie @jisungsjheekies @luminouskalopsia​ @straysrachaa​ @mrbangchannie​ (to be added, go here)

[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.

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary ‘21 - Week Four: Future

So, do y’all remember a while back, when I asked for scenes from the Stanley McGucket AU that you wanted to see but I didn’t write?  Well, that’s because I had decided to choose that OG AU as my AU for this week, but was struggling to come up with how to handle the prompt.

Luckily, I managed to come up with an idea for it that I hope will bring the feels.  The first part takes place at some point in the “Stan Pines, Farmhand” sequel to “Stanley McGucket”, while the second part (which was inspired by the sub-theme of “Epilogue”) takes place immediately after the last chapter.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              The pickup truck came to a stop.

              “I’ve got some chores to finish up,” Pa McGucket said.  His voice was thick with emotion.  At the airport earlier, he had put on a brave face, but once Angie’s plane took off, he immediately burst into tears.

              Can’t really blame him.  I felt the same way.  Pa McGucket got out of the truck and headed for the barn.  Ma McGucket, sniffling softly, exited the truck as well.  With a sigh, Stan got out and followed Ma McGucket inside.  Ma McGucket promptly disappeared into the kitchen.  The clattering of pots and pans soon sounded.  Stan had figured out early on that Ma McGucket liked to bake when she was upset or stressed.  Hope she’s making cookies this time.

              Stan trudged down the hall sadly.  He came to the stairs that led to the second floor. After a moment, he began to climb them. The carpeting muffled his footsteps. He walked to Angie’s bedroom.  The door was slightly ajar.  He pushed it open the rest of the way.  The room looked as it normally did.  The bed was neatly made, books organized in a particular manner on the bookshelf, tchotchkes artfully placed on the dresser. Even the floor had been recently vacuumed.  Despite everything being in place, it felt wrong without Angie, scolding Stan for peeking into her room.

              Well, looks like we’re back to the house being empty.  While Angie and her siblings had been visiting for winter break, the house had felt full and happy, like when Stan first moved in.  But gradually, each sibling went back to school or their home, until Angie, whose spring semester started the latest, was the last one.  She’s so energetic and loud, I could barely tell she was the only one here.

              Stan stared at the empty room for a few more moments before sighing and closing the door.  The sound of Ma McGucket’s new stand mixer – a group Christmas gift from Angie, Lute, and Stan – carried to the second floor.  However, the radio kept in the kitchen hadn’t been turned on. Curious, Stan went back downstairs and into the kitchen just as Ma McGucket turned off her stand mixer.  Ma McGucket looked up.

              “I ain’t even put it in the oven yet, how’d ya know I was bakin’?” she asked.  Her eyes shone in a way that suggested she was holding back tears, but other than that, she showed no signs of sadness.

              She’s always been better at hiding her emotions than Mearl.

              “You bake when yer upset,” Stan said.  Sally pointed a wooden spoon at him.

              “Watch what ya say, Stanley.”

              “I’m just tellin’ the truth.”

              “Hmph.”  Ma McGucket crossed her arms.  “I’m beginnin’ to regret makin’ yer fav’rite.”

              “Chocolate chip cookies?”

              “Yep.  But I could easily change it to be raisins instead,” Ma McGucket said, raising an eyebrow. Stan held up his hands in surrender, eliciting a smile from her.  The smile quickly faded, however, as she searched his face.  “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

              “No, it, uh, it’s just weird havin’ the house be quiet and empty again.”

              “Yes, it certainly is,” Ma McGucket said softly. She dumped chocolate chips into the mixing bowl and stirred.  “But I don’t think that’s the only reason yer lookin’ down in the dumps.”

              “I…”  Stan trailed off.  Ma McGucket set the wooden spoon down.  She walked over to the kitchen table and sat.

              “Sit ‘n chat with me, Stan,” she said, patting the chair next to her.  Stan sat next to Ma McGucket.  She fixed her brilliant blue eyes, the same as Angie’s, on him.  “What’s goin’ on, son?”  Stan looked down at the table.  He idly traced the scratches in the wood, which he had been told Harper made shortly after getting his first pocketknife.  “Stanley, talk to me.”

              “What am I s’pposed to do, Sally?” Stan asked finally.

              “Yer goin’ to need to be more specific.”

              “I just-”  Stan sighed.  “All yer kids went off to college.  All the friends I made in school are at college.  Ford’s at college.  It feels weird bein’ the only one still at home.”  His volume dropped sharply.  “But, I guess I can’t really do anything else but stay at home.”

              “Ah.”  Ma McGucket leaned back in her chair.  “This isn’t just ‘bout secondary education.  This is ‘bout yer future.”

              “Well, yeah,” Stan mumbled.  He continued to resolutely avoid eye contact.  “I don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do now.  Can’t have a future if I don’t have a plan fer it.”

              “Now, that just ain’t true,” Ma McGucket said sharply.  Stan looked up in shock.  “I was older ‘n ya when I fin’lly figured out what my future was goin’ to look like. And plannin’ didn’t have anything to do with it.  Heck, the day I realized what my future was, that was the day I threw out the plan I’d had since I was a kid.”

              “Whattaya mean?”

              “To be fair, the plan weren’t really mine. It was my parents’.  From birth, they planned on me gettin’ a law degree and then settlin’ down with some high society feller that they would choose fer me. But then the plan went off the tracks when I met Mearl at college.  I started thinkin’ that maybe I didn’t want to do what I had always been told I would.

              “My relationship with Mearl got serious. Serious enough that I decided to finally tell my folks ‘bout it.  They…didn’t take it well.  They told me, in no uncertain terms, that they wouldn’t support my relationship with a poor farmer who barely graduated high school.  That day, I came to my crossroads.”

              “Crossroads?” Stan asked.  Ma McGucket leaned in, her eyes warm and wise.

              “Everyone walks their own path.  Ya come across a lot of opportunities to go a dif’rent direction, but they’re optional, where ya can stay the course instead of go somewhere else.  Most of the time, those optional routes ain’t that far from yer original path anyways. But in every path, there’s a crossroads. A moment where the road ‘fore ya fully diverges.  Ya can’t keep goin’ the same way anymore.  Ya have to make a choice.

              “When I came to my crossroads, I saw two futures ahead of me.  In one, I did what my parents wanted.  I would continue to live a high-society, comfortable life where I didn’t want fer anything.  But I wouldn’t be happy.  I wouldn’t be fulfilled.  In the other, I stayed with Mearl, and let my fam’ly disown me.  Money would be tight, I would have to work harder than I ever had just to get by.  But I’d be with the person I loved.”  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah, you told me before that ya gave up yer cushy life to marry Mearl.”

              “Only partially,” Ma McGucket said softly.  “I didn’t just leave my fam’ly fer Mearl.  I left ‘em fer myself.  When they told me I couldn’t stay with him, that I would have to be with one of the suitors they already had lined up fer me, everything came crashin’ down.  It was like I had been in a fog my whole life, only fer it to suddenly disperse, revealing everything I couldn’t see before.  I saw just how much I had been under their thumb, under their control.  I saw my future clearer ‘n ever ‘fore.  And I saw the crossroads up ahead.

              “I knew that if I left my fam’ly fer Mearl, there was a chance Mearl ‘n I wouldn’t stay together anyways.  But even if we broke up, I would still be free.  I’d say that it weren’t a choice at all, with how easy it was fer me to make it.  But that would be minimizing its importance.”  Ma McGucket met Stan’s eyes squarely.  “I chose my path.  I walked down it.  I never looked back.”

              “Why…why did you tell me that?” Stan asked, feeling slightly numb from the intensity of Ma McGucket’s story.

              “Because one day, you’ll come to yer crossroads. You’ll see yer future ‘fore ya and have to make a choice.”

              “But what am I s’pposed to do until then?” Stan demanded.  He could feel frustration growing.

              Just give me a straight answer!

              “What do ya want to do?” Ma McGucket asked.

              “I don’t know!” Stan raged.  “That’s the whole point, it-”  Ma McGucket held up a hand, silencing him.

              “Are ya happy ‘n healthy now?” she asked.  “Are ya content in yer life?”  Stan opened his mouth.  “Don’t give me whatever answer ya think I want to hear.  Give me the truth.”  Stan closed his mouth and stared down at the table again, the gears in his head furiously turning.  After a moment, he nodded.

              “Yeah.  I am.”

              “Then there’s no reason to change things, is there?” Ma McGucket said simply.  “You’ll know what you want someday.  You’ll see your future ahead of ya.  But until then…”  She placed her hand over his, smiling.  “Just stay the course until ya come to yer own crossroads.”

-----

              Finally, soft snoring sounded from the passenger’s seat. Stan glanced over.

              It’s about time Ford fell asleep.  Ford’s face was smushed against the window, his glasses askew.  His snoring almost harmonized with the snoring coming from the back seat.  Speaking of…  Stan looked in the rearview mirror.  He smiled.  The source of the snoring, as he’d expected, was Emily.  Even though she was much bigger than Angie now, she still had defaulted to resting her head on her mother’s shoulder while sleeping.  To his surprise, Angie was asleep as well.  Or is she?

              “Ang?” Stan asked quietly.

              “Shh, I don’t want yer pomegranates,” Angie mumbled. Stan chuckled.

              Yep.  She’s asleep.  He turned his attention back to the road.  With no conversation to hold his focus and the radio stations fading in and out, Stan’s mind wandered.  Eventually, it settled onto the day Angie had left for college, decades ago.  The conversation he’d had with Ma McGucket about his future.

              “Just stay the course until ya come to yer own crossroads.”

              “Never did find those crossroads, Sally,” Stan said out loud.

              Unless…

              Another memory resurfaced.  Sitting on the side of the road, his back pressed against a tire, gravel prodding his legs through his worn jeans.  A man walking over, crouching down, watching him with an expression so fatherly it felt foreign.  An offer.

              “We're lookin' fer a new farmhand.  We're gettin' on in years, and our kids are gone most of the time.  They can't help out as much as they used to.”

              “What are you saying?”

              “I'm sayin' that if ya want a job, a nice bed, and three square meals a day, we can give that to ya.”

              “What's the catch?”

              “Only that ya work hard.”

              “…Okay.”

              The beginnings of tears pricked the corners of Stan’s eyes at the memory of Pa McGucket’s kindness and warmth.  Ever since he had passed away, remembering Mearl made Stan wistful, no matter how positive the memory was.  Stan hurriedly wiped the tears away.  He smiled despite the sudden sadness.

              The only thing he knew about me was my name, and he still took me in.  Stan glanced in the rearview mirror again.  More memories bubbled to the surface.  First meeting the girl that would eventually become his wife, as well as his future brothers-in-law.  Making up with Ford.  Graduating high school.  Getting married.  Becoming a father.  None of that woulda happened if I had turned down Mearl’s offer.  Stan looked back at the highway, his smile broadening.

              Y’know what, Sally?  It happened a long time before we talked about it, but I did reach my own crossroads.

              And I think I made the right choice.

[lyssismagical]

27 and/or 30 for the prompt asks if you want!

27 - “Why is there glitter everywhere” 

30 - “Detention? Again?” 

(I don’t know if those are from the right prompt list oops sorry) 

Soft Parent!Parkner w a splash of Irongrandpa

Days at Stark Industries as CEO were always long. Peter would forever be grateful he has the opportunity to work there, it’s better than anything he’d dreamed of as a kid, even after meeting Tony, but the gratefulness for being allowed this opportunity didn’t mean his days were necessarily made easy.

Nine to five, though sometimes later as much as he hated missing dinners with his family, with some of the smartest people he’d ever met. He gets told on an almost hourly basis that he’s too young to be CEO, that anybody else could do it better than him, that he could be doing more, doing better, that his commitments to his family were taking away from his work.

Work was work somedays.

But everything was made better when he got home to his apartment in Manhattan to greet his wonderful husband and children.

And today was Friday, meaning the Stark family and May would be visiting for their weekly dinners.

When he gets home, bone-tired and heavy with the day’s work, Harley’s laughter is what greets him first. It makes his shoulder just a little less tense.

“I’m home!” he calls out, kicking off his shoes and sliding out of his jacket. He rubs the exhaustion from his eyes, tries to make his mouth lift into at least a polite smile, tries to appear put together when he makes his way into the kitchen to greet his husband.

“Honey! C’mere! I need your opinion on something.”

Almost immediately, his shoulders slump, body aching to rest for just a second but responsibilities never-ending.

Harley’s waiting for him at the stove, spoonful of what looks like stew held out. “Try this for me?”

He does as asked, thinking for only a moment before saying, “Bit more salt?”

Harley lights up in a smile. “That’s what I thought! But Tony started going on and on about blood sugar and cholesterol and health issues.”

“Tony’s here?”

“In the living room. He’s watching the kids while Pepper and Morgan pick up May.”

Peter sighs, almost too harshly because he knows what that means.

And he’s right.

He walks into the living room to find a huge mess.

“Tony.” Peter has to pause, take a deep breath and try to fix his tone before he continues, “Why is there glitter everywhere?”

Tony looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor with two of their three children. “Art project?”

Sensing Peter’s annoyance, Tony quickly continues, “We’ll clean up as soon as we’re done! It’s not my fault this time! June started asking and asking about a craft.”

“My one-year-old child who is only just learning how to talk, asked you to make a craft with her.” Peter’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. He rolls his eyes hard when he sees the amount of glitter that’s in Ben’s hair.

“I’ll clean it all up, I swear-”

“It’s fine,” Peter says, raking a hand through his hair. As much as Tony promises he’ll clean up, Peter will be finding glitter in the house for weeks after this and he’ll be the one who has to give the twins a bath.

Before Tony can argue anymore, Peter heads off to his bedroom, needing to get changed out of his button-down and slacks, needing to take a shower but knowing he doesn’t have the time, needing just a second to sit down.

“Daddy?”

Peter turns, fingers stilling on his buttons. “Hi, honey, how was your day?”

“Alright. Papa took us all to the park to see the ducks and the squirrels. You okay?�� Elizabeth moves into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed, wide blue eyes focusing on him with an absurd amount of worry for a four-year-old. “Sorry ‘bout the glitter. I told Papa not to let Grandpa.”

“It’s alright, hon, thank you. I’m just tired from work. Do you want to do me a favour though?”

Elizabeth lights up, always prepared to do anything. “What?”

“Could you go tell your grandpa to let Papa watch your siblings while he picks up a cheesecake from the bakery?”

She giggles and takes off down the hallway, shouting, “Grandpa! Grandpa!”

Peter changes into loose clothes, Harley’s old sweater and pyjama pants because he can’t help himself from stealing his husband’s clothing even years into marriage. And finally sits down.

Harley appears only a moment later, quiet and doesn’t need to ask. He sits beside Peter, hesitates for just a second, and then wraps his arms around Peter. Immediately, Peter’s whole body relaxes into his husband, breathing evening out and muscles soothed.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of Harley’s neck, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Peter shrugs. “It’s all the same stuff. I don’t know if they’ll ever get bored of telling me I’m too young to be CEO or that I’ve been given everything on a silver platter and don’t deserve it after all the work they’ve put in. I know they think I’m just some kid who got Tony’s attention, but I work hard, I went through a hell of a lot to get where I am, you know?”

“I know. You’re the hardest working, smartest person I know, sweetheart. You deserve the position more than any of those petty dumbasses. I don’t know how they don’t see how wonderful you are and I’m sorry you come home to this. I swear I asked Tony to keep the mess to a minimum and not to touch the glitter… I just needed a second to make dinner without kids on my feet.”

“But you’re…” Peter doesn’t want to ask the most insecure question there is. “You’re happy, though, right? Being a stay-at-home dad, spending all day with our kids. This is all still good?”

Harley smiles, kissing Peter’s head. “Of course I’m happy. I love you, I love our kids, I love us. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”

“Good.”

Everything’s quiet for a second and then they hear the pounding footsteps of Elizabeth, followed by the doorbell ringing. A second later, chatting fills the apartment signaling Pepper, Morgan, and May arriving.

“We should go,” Peter says, smiling.

“You can have another minute, if you want. I can get May to watch the twins and Morgan to watch Liz while I make dinner with Pepper. You can take your time.”

Peter links their hands together, smile widening. “I’m okay as long as you promise you’ll be the one to vacuum the living room if I bathe the twins.”

“Anything for you.”

They head out of the room together, to greet their family, hand-in-hand. Pepper and May are already each carrying one of the twins. Morgan’s kneeling on the floor with Elizabeth, complimenting her hair and asking about school.

They all smile when they see the boys, taking turns to give hugs around the family.

Peter takes June from May, pressing a kiss to her forehead, trying to avoid the copious amounts of glitter on her. “What took you so long to get here? Traffic really that bad?”

“No, Morgan didn’t leave school at three. She was there until five.”

“Detention? Again?” Harley pipes up, wincing. He ruffles a hand through Elizabeth’s hair. “What did you do this time?”

Morgan grins. “There was this hot guy in my English class and I was totally staring which is why I saw him staring at the teacher’s chest! And I was grossed out so I followed him to Spanish where he stared at pretty much every single girl in the hallway! So I, may or may not have, slashed his tires.”

“And you got detention?” Peter asks, avoiding Pepper’s eyes when she glares at him for encouraging Morgan’s behavior.

“Right?” Morgan exclaims. “I couldn’t believe it! I told them like a hundred times that he was the one doing wrong, not me, but they said slashing his tires shouldn’t have been my response. But my English teacher was so grateful she gave him the responsibility of cleaning the classroom every day after school.”

Harley laughs. “Small victories, I guess. And I can’t really say much. I think my total number of detentions over four years at Rose Hill was something around four hundred. Anyway, I’ll be finishing up dinner in the kitchen, you wanna help me, Liz?”

“I’ll pop a wine?” Peter offers, needing a glass just as much as Pepper looks like she does.

“Can I have some?” Morgan looks to Peter despite needing permission from her mom.

Pepper rolls her eyes, not even bothering to answer as she heads off to the kitchen after Harley and Elizabeth, May in tow.

Morgan’s sixteen, not quite old enough to be allowed one, but Peter doesn’t mind bending the rules for his little sister. “Just a tiny bit and then you’ll be on juice like the little ones for the rest of the night, ‘kay?”

“Hell yeah!” Morgan exclaims, bouncing off to the kitchen. “This is why you’re the best, Peter!”

Peter stands at the door for a second, June still tucked against his side on his hip, a smile on his face.

Even if work feels hard somedays, even if his family drives him up the wall with their endless chaos, even if there’s glitter everywhere in his apartment, even if Morgan’s going through the worst of her teenage years, even if he’s one of the parents to two one-year-olds and a four-year-old, even if it’s hard, life is good.

He’s happy.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spidey-reids-2003  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[joyful-soul-collector]

Blanket Forts and Midnight Stories

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

Rating: Teen and Up (for swearing)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, DUM-E

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Peter said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Blanket fort?” Peter said hopefully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Star Wars.”

“Again?”

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

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

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

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

It was only eight o’clock.

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

“Sleep good kid,” Tony whispered.

~~~

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

“H-help…”  

“Peter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter didn’t answer for a moment.

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

Tony sighed and looked at his watch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tony suddenly understood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[isolctions]

@thvndcrstrvck​ asked: ultimate relationship tag for mars & teyani :~)

relationship tag*

*only accepting for established ships. (domo gets a pass bc i luv them <3)

disagreements.

who is more likely to raise their voice? — i feel like they do an equal amount of voice raising. the only real difference is that i feel like mars is more loud in tone & the type to go “i’m not yelling!!!!!” whereas teyani’s yelling takes on more of a stern tone. who threatens to leave but never actually does? — mars, prbly. who actually keeps their word and leaves? — teyani. she absolutely served him papers while he was at work. who trashes the house? — nobody, tf? they’re too old for that shit. do either of them get physical? — i...would think not. because teyani is extremely passive & if mars would’ve tried it, she would have left earlier. so no. how often do they argue / disagree? — it prbly wasn’t often in the beginning of their relationship, but one of those “when it happens it’s messy” type of arguments. now, best believe it’s an argument every two hours as their relationship is incredible strained. who is the first to apologize? — teyani.

sex.

it’s me having no idea what their sex life is like bc we haven’t plotted out this far, #help. they did the do until they no longer liked each other, now they don’t.

family.

we also didn’t plot out this far. but i mean, teyani having her daughter is canon so she and ines were/are a package deal (like was she pregnant before this relationship??? after??? was ines already born??? chile, idk.) and i’m sure mars was cool with helping her while they were together. mmcht.

affection.

who likes to cuddle? — teyani is a big cuddler. who is the little spoon? — truthfully, mars! as much as she likes being held, she also likes to do the holding. you never know when ur partner needs that kinda comfort. who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? — while doing this, i kind of have this idea in my head that neither would like to inconvenience the other when they’re doing smthn important. but if they’re watching a movie on the couch or some shit, teyani might be the one to start sneaky touching. who struggles to keep their hands to themselves? — boffum. depends on the mood. how long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? — if they’re not already asleep, maaaaaaybe an hour? hour and a half max? who gives the most kisses? — teyani. what is their favorite non-sexual activity? — teyani likes hand holding. mars might like doing smthn hands on like helping cook or some shit. where is their favorite place to cuddle? — the practical places, such as the couch while unwinding or in bed before going to sleep. who is more likely to playfully grope the other? — maybe mars. how often do they get time to themselves? — not mf often!! which is why teyani tries making the most out of it whenever they’re around each other.

sleeping.

who snores? — mars. do they share a bed or sleep separately? — they once shared a bed, but now they sleep separately. either in different rooms or one is in a different location all together. if they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? — used to cozy up until one steals a blanket or gets hot. who talks in their sleep? — prbly teyani. what do they wear to bed? — um...pajamas? are either of your muses insomniacs? — it would more than likely be teyani. it can be hard to sleep sometimes when spirits keep bugging you at all hours. can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? — nope. do they wrap their limbs around each other or stay side by side? — it prbly was a slow transition from being wrapped around each other to laying back to back. real divorcee shit. who wakes up with bed hair? — um, mars keeps his hair short & teyani got a bonnet or a scarf on. who wakes up first? — teyani’s always been an early bird. plus she was prbly already up anyway. who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? — NO ONE!! get ur ass up to eat! like, they’ll make a PLATE for the other but you better get tf up if you wanna eat it. what is their favorite sleeping position? — teyani tends to lay on her side curled up, while i feel like mars is more of a ‘lay on the stomach sprawled out like a starfish’ kinda guy. who hogs the sheets? — mars. so selfish. do they set an alarm each night? — ya, they got jobs. can a television be found in their room? — i wanna say, like...tv’s in bedrooms are so common now...but also...i feel like no??? idk i’m making shit up who has nightmares? — mars? i mean he for the streets, so i’m sure he has nightmares? who has ridiculous dreams? — teyani has visions that mars would prbly write off as ridiculous dreams, ergnerjk. who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? — i said mars so it’s the law now what time is bed time? — uh? idk? 11pm maybe? any routines / rituals before bed? — bathing & brushing teeth. teyani does skin care and moisturizes and twists her hair. mars does...whatever he does...idk him like that who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? — depends on how much sleep they got

work.

who is the busiest? — they both have busy work schedules, considering they both have full time careers. but whereas teyani has more of a schedule, mars has the most unpredictable hours & his lil’ hannah montana ass double life. who rakes in the highest income? — hannah marstana. are any of your muses unemployed? — nope. who takes the most sick days? — maybe teyani? i mean she has a one year old? who is more likely to turn up late to work? — i feel like neither, but again, it would likelier be teyani. who sucks up to their boss? — eye roll. i think teyani did at first. what are their jobs? — computer analyst / medium. surgeon / liar. do their muses enjoy or despise their careers? — nah, i think they both enjoy it. are your muses financially stable? — with or without mars, she good!!

home.

who does the washing? — teyani. who takes out the trash? — boffum. who does the ironing? — teyani bc she already does laundry bc she likes it. who does the cooking? — boffum. who is more likely to burn down the house just trying? — HMMMMMMMidk. who is messier? — teyani is honestly more prone to being messy, but at least she cleans up! who leaves the toilet roll empty? — i feel like men always do this. so i’m choosing mars. who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? — teyani. but again, she goes back for it later. who forgets to flush the toilet? — ew, no one. who is the prankster around the house? — the spirits that follow teyani around. i’m not joking. who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? — teyani. who mows the lawn? — they pay somebody to do it, idk. who answers the phone? — whoever is near the damn phone? duh? who does the vacuuming? — they do their fair share. who does the groceries? — both? they’ll go together if it’s smthn specifically they want but it’s mostly just whoever calls the other and goes “hey what do u want” who takes longest to shower? — teyani if she’s washing her hair, but mostly mars. who spends the most time in the bathroom? — teyani! she has big hair! and glowing skin!

misc.

is money a problem? — no. teyani gets paid fairly well, mars is a surgeon, and also has...extracurricular activities. how many cars do they own? — teyani has to take a train to her job, so i guess one overall? maybe two if she has to go out somewhere? do they own their home or do they rent? — owned, but teyani now rents an apartment. do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? — closer to a coast. do they live in the city or in the country? — city, babey. do they enjoy their surroundings? — i mean, it’s what they’re used to. what’s their song? — ..........we’ll come back to this. what do they do when they’re away from each other? — teyani just works, really. she has a few hobbies that she tends to. has ines to care for. mars i feel like is the errand runner, and would spend his day like, doing Something. where did they first meet? — this is literally killing me i’m never doing this for a brand new ship again how did they first meet? — UHHHH whatever let’s go with they were set up. who spends the most money when they’re out shopping? — neither? at least, not intentionally? if so, it’d be on practical things like groceries. who’s more likely to flash their assets? — neither. who finds it amusing when the other trips over? — teyani. like mars is so serious...when he does smthn dumb, you just have to laugh! any mental issues? — i mean, teyani had a bout of postpartum once. who’s terrified of bugs? — not terrified, but teyani’s not exactly fond of them. who kills the spiders around the house? — mars, while teyani fearfully leads them outside. their favorite place? — the crib! who pays the bills? — boffum. do they have any fears for their future? — they are literally in the middle of getting divorced. maybe if one of them died or smthn? who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? — mars, when he feel like bein sweet. who uses up all the hot water? — mars. which is fine. who’s the tallest? — prbly mars. but teyani isn’t exactly short, either. she 5′7. who’s more likely to just randomly hop in the shower with the other? — teyani. who wanders around in their underwear? — neither. who sings the loudest when singing along with the radio? — teyani, but mostly to be annoying. what do they tease each other about? — teyani sneak-helps gianna make fun of mars abt literally anything. who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense sometimes? — i mean...they both dress kinda basic i think? do they have mutual friends? — shit, prbly. who crushed first? — teyani. any alcohol or substance related problems? — i don’t...think so? who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? — uh, maybe mars? who swears the most? — boffum.

[prideofthewest]

Westeros: an American Musical - Sentence Starters

From Act 2 of “Westeros: an American Musical,” a parody mashup of “Game of Thrones” and “Hamilton.”

Change the pronouns as you see fit.

"The Groom When It Happened" (The Room Where It Happens)

“what’s with the bag?”

“i’m getting married and movin’ on up, if i’m to brag.”

“she’s crazy ‘bout me, and i assure you she’s the one i prefer!”

“and i just had to do what i’m told.”

“_____ should try to learn that, if he wants to grow old.”

“you’ve a feast to attend.”

“i guess i’ll take a page from our out-of-town friend.”

"trust less, conspire more."

“i’ll put up with them just to keep my foot lodged in the door.”

“_____ seems tyrannical and merciless.”

“i’m no political beginner.”

“sorry, _____, gotta go.”

“_____ wed an inbred loon with no claim to the throne.”

“no one else was with the groom when it happened.”

“no one even sees that i'm not their man, but it's out of my hands cuz they think i’ve got plans that they presume that i’m hatchin’.”

“she was in _____’s bedroom one night, underdressed and full of spite.”

“she convinced him to kill for her delights.”

“I have one request.”

“well, you know i’m horny. i think that plan’s alright.”

“the guests all got acquainted, while she made sure the wine glass, in contrast, was tainted.”

“in the game of thrones, you either win or die.”

“the queen’s got more moves than you, so don’t you even try.”

“we must assume that it happened.”

“little birds have given me their word that they heard them making threats at _____.”

“i’m really sorry.”

“the witness may approach us with her intel and info, and maybe she can tell us ‘bout the person she knows.”

“they confessed to me his darkest machinations, and all his vices when we had our frequent fornications.”

“wouldn't you like to know he was a monster at home?”

“you are under oath.”

“i swear on my life.”

“and he acted alone?”

“he planned it all with his wife.”

“_____, where’ya taking’ me?”

“are we going somewhere ‘cross the sea?”

“what just happened?”

“i think it was _____.”

“what did you have to do to leave the city with a gaping power vacuum?”

“i didn't even see you at the dinner.”

“were there deals that were happ’ning in the backroom?”

“was the point of this plan that you wouldn't have to be in the capital?”

“i wed your aunt, i got my reward.”

“you’ve climbed even higher.”

“i’m the newest major lord.”

“if they don’t know where you’re going, you’ll never be seen.”

“if a pawn lives long enough, she gets to be queen.”

“those bastards killed your mother.”

“you were forced to ignore it. 

“i just wasn’t gonna wait for it.”

“whenever planning a regicide, secure an alibi for the night that the king dies!”

“how did it happen?”

“you pulled the strings, but tell me who’s the assassin?”

“i might’ve been near the groom when it happened.”

“did they have to take the blame?”

“well, someone’s gotta pay when we play the game.”

“the lion got a thorn in his paw.”

“they’re gonna be my grandson-in-law.”

“i had to be near the groom when it happened.”

“_____’s doom!”

[iggy-licious]

One Shot: Weekend Chores

This is the first Iggy one shot that I wrote. It's NSFW, smutty. PS, Iggy is called by his real name, Jim, in the story. ❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Saturday morning, cleaning time for you. Jim has just wiped the lenses of his wire-frame glasses. He reaches for the weekend newspaper, crosses his legs, and prepares to read.

Both of you are in your usual places for the start of the weekend. You like to wear something provocative to put on a show for him while you clean, and today it’s black cat ears and a studded pet collar, along with your favorite black lace bra and a black thong. He has helped complete your outfit, inserting the plug that leaves a black cat tail hanging suggestively from the entrance to your ass.

He has left behind many of the darkest bits of Iggy Pop from earlier in the decade and is now in what he jokingly refers to as his “normal man” phase, but it's in appearance only, because the uncontrollable, sexy wild man is just below the surface at all times. He's wearing a tennis sweater and jeans, feet bare, as always. His hair is back to its natural darker color, slicked into his best Brylcreem professional man imitation. The short haircut accentuates his angular, masculine face, and the shine of his large, childlike blue eyes is not thwarted by the oversized glasses.

The oddness of the scene turns you on every weekend--Jim, in the role of a fiercely middle-class man savoring every second of mundane activity on a weekend morning, and you, vamping seductively in costume and character. You know it turns him on, too--there have been Saturdays when he’s had to have you and you didn’t get to finish your cleaning--but he always plays nonchalant at first. It’s unnerving how he can turn off his normal chaos cartoon character personality for this indifferent mask of respectability. You know he has considered taking acting classes, and you're confident he'd ace that kind of work.

You make sure to have your back to him as much as possible, as part of the show. You water the ferns and African violets first, then you vacuum the beige carpet in the living room. It doesn’t take much time in the modest Berlin apartment that the two of you share.

When you’re directly in front of him, vacuuming near the coffee table, he rests the newspaper in his lap, palms your ass with one hand, and grabs his coffee with the other for a sip. The way he kneads you causes you to flash back to the feel of his hands on your ass earlier, when he slicked your asshole down with lube and, with the caress of a sinfully teasing finger, prepared you for the plug, if not for his slow, light-handed thrusting with the toy. His unexpected motions caused your hips to buck some more, after you were already on your back, flushed and wet from his expert tongue moments earlier in your pussy. You were close to coming again while he played with your smaller opening, but he said you'd have to wait.

You inhale sharply, enjoying the sexy memory and the feel of Jim’s warm hand on your ass right now.

“I believe there’s more to do, dollface, isn’t there?” He chides you gently with the low rumble of his unmistakably Midwestern accent. He spanks you swiftly. You turn to look at him for a moment and see a momentary flash of mischief in his eyes accompanying his shy smile. “Off you go,” he says. Then, it’s back to the newspaper.

You finish vacuuming and put the appliance back in the bedroom closet. You make a detour to the bathroom for cleaning supplies and then begin wiping all the glass down in the living room. First it’s the television, then the end tables and the coffee table. Jim hums Frank Sinatra tunes the whole time, and it excites you to feel like you’re in some twisted Norman Rockwell painting of the 1950s. But the year is 1977, and your game is certainly not beyond the pale in a place like Berlin.

Jim has finished his coffee and takes the mug to the kitchen. While he’s gone, you turn your cleaning attention to the large window at the side of the sofa. You can’t help but start humming Sinatra.

“You missed a spot,” Jim says of your window cleaning. You turn and see him peering at you from the kitchen. You know by the way he licks his lips that he is ramping up the game. You resume your work, and your lips swell furiously between your thighs in anticipation.

“Show me where you mean?” You call out once you’re facing the window again, playing along.

“One moment, sweetheart,” he calls back in a singsong tone.

You hear his brisk shuffle on the carpet. Once you see his reflection in the window you know that playtime is over. You can’t help but grin when you see his nude body: the lean lines and pops of muscles on his lithe frame, punctuated by the arresting sight of his thick cock. You’re surprised he kept his clothes on for that long. You feel flushed, but you get back to the task at hand, struggling to stay in character at this point.

His reflection makes a beeline for you.

He presses your body into the window with his. You gasp at the feel of the glass against your skin; it’s winter, and you imagine the window feels every bit as cold as it does outside.“Right here,” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to a random spot on the glass, pressing in closer on you. You are now soaked at your core, feeling his lips a hair’s width from your ear and his virile, low voice employed.

“Thank you for pointing that out, dear.” You can’t help phrasing your response this way, as you feel his hardness against you. He knows exactly what you mean.

He wages a silken assault on your neck with his soft kisses. He hums while he does it, and the vibrations and the undeniable masculinity of his tone edge you closer to the point of no return.

He turns you around, taking in the view of your body, gliding his large hands over you in a way he knows is never enough. He tosses his glasses on the sofa and gives you one of his provocative, model-perfect stares before he starts to remove your clothes.

He told you that a few years earlier, someone called him a degenerate with the body of a water polo player. You can see some after-effects of his strung-out, desperate years in his face, but now, during his tenuous recovery, he seems more settled and grounded than the man he's described to you. The man before you is calm, confident, and knowing, and has been head over heels for you, in his own understated way, for the past year.

He smiles. He's ready to devour you. He backs you against the window. He pins you to the spot. Your body rears and arches against the glass as his love bites at your neck and his fingering of your core send you to a place of wantonness. You gasp when his thumb hits your clit, easily gliding over the slick area. He grasps your neck softly with his other hand and kisses you deeply while his contact with your bud becomes more firm.

You tremble against the glass, and moans escape your mouth around his tongue. His dangerous bouts with asthma may have made him small, but he’s certainly as strong as larger men. He grips your neck a little tighter when he knows your climax is near. You’re shaking so much that you’re almost worried about the strength of the glass behind you.

“There’s my girl,” he growls and leers with his perfect smile. His eyes are wide and piercing on you; it’s one of the wild, defiant looks you’ve seen on his face in photos from the earlier concerts.

“Come for me… Come for me…” He chants in a husky whisper. Your sense of being expands at an alarming rate, while you tighten exquisitely at your core.

“Come for me…”

Your body feels like it’s going to burst.

“Come for me...”

You wail and keen. You can’t get enough air. You can’t get enough of the paralyzing euphoria that you’re in.

“Come for me…” You’re trapped in a divine loop of tension that ratchets higher, higher, higher. It feels wrong to call this extreme pleasure misery, but your nerves are going raw from the throbbing at your core, from his grip on you, his cold stare, the cold, hard glass, the thought of enterprising Germans going out into the sunny morning on the street below for the newspaper or a warm breakfast.

It’s too much. You explode inside. You tremble. You howl. Seconds later, your legs are doused with the warm rain of your completion.

You can’t stop shaking, can’t stop your rapid breaths. Jim cups your face with his hands and kisses you as tenderly as he did when the two of you woke up earlier. He gives you his shy smile and embraces you tightly. “That was beautiful,” he murmurs. “You’re beautiful.” His compliment makes you higher than you already are from his ministrations.

He tugs a bit at your cat tail and leers at you again. “Come on, pussy… cat… There’s more of that for you in the bedroom.”

[augustmoon259]

For I shall already have forgotten you CHAPTER 2: AN END AND A BEGINNING

When Madeline was seventeen, her life began to go downhill.

Her father was a former smoker. He smoked often before meeting her mother. After meeting Madeline’s mother, and subsequently falling in love with her, he vowed not to smoke again.

He didn’t keep his promise.

Following the death of Madeline’s mother, her father picked up smoking again, but it was far worse. He drowned his sorrows in a bottle of alcohol and a pack of cigarettes daily. It took much effort from concerned friends to make him see the error of his ways. More than that, it was the guilt. The guilt that his daughter would grow up without a father. With the loss of his wife, and no other immediate family, he was the only one who could take care of his child.

So Madeline’s father quit smoking, for good this time. Unfortunately, no matter how much you try to outrun your past, sometimes it catches up to you.

Madeline’s father began experiencing a persistent cough that worsened as time passed. Sometimes he would have trouble breathing; other times he would cough up blood. After these continued bouts of coughing and chest pain, Madeline’s father scheduled an appointment with his doctor. The diagnosis confirmed the worst case scenario.

It was lung cancer. Specifically, small cell lung cancer. The x-ray scans revealed that the cancer was now in its extensive stage, meaning that the tumor had grown and the cancer had spread to other parts of the body. Treatment was possible, but Madeline’s father had a low chance of survival.

When her father broke the news to her, Madeline was devastated. Her kind and dependable father, the one who was always there for her, had cancer? Not just any cancer, but lung cancer, the deadliest of all.

Madeline’s father wanted his daughter to focus on her last year of secondary school. So she did, albeit with great reluctance. Madeline juggled school and sports while monitoring her father’s health. Her father would be in and out of the hospital frequently for his chemotherapy treatment.

Madeline tasked her magical friends with observing and taking care of her father while he was in the hospital, and she could not be there for him. Inkblot flew to and from the hospital, updating Madeline about her father’s current condition. Susan stayed with her father and made sure that he was sleeping or eating well.

Madeline was grateful for the presence of her friends during these troubled times. Ever since the first night she met him, Woodstock kept a constant vigil beside her while she slept. He made her feel less lonely on the nights when her father was at the hospital. Oggy was wrapped around her neck, as always, while she was at school. Sneak reminded Madeline to take care of herself and to not be overwhelmed by her emotions. She meditated and joined a support group for family members of cancer patients.

Months passed. It seemed that Madeline’s father was doing better after chemotherapy. His symptoms were less severe and he was discharged from the hospital.

The best gift Madeline could ask for was having her father at home with her on Christmas day. That was all she needed. Instead, Madeline’s father surprised her with a polar bear cub.

Not an actual polar bear cub. A stuffed one. It fit in her arms perfectly, with the softest fur and black marble eyes.

Madeline felt that something was still missing though. She wasn’t sure what until she saw her reflection. Madeline usually kept her hair tied into two pigtails, with a maple leaf clip on each side of her head.

The thing that was missing was an accessory for her new polar bear cub. With this realization, Madeline went to her room to search in her drawers. She found the object she was looking for: a pink flower-shaped hairpin. Madeline attached the pin next to the stuffed bear’s right ear.

There! A flower fit for a princess. Now you look the part, but what will your name be?

Madeline thought for a while.

Princess. Are there any names that mean princess? Hime? Miki? No...It’ll have to be-

“Kumarie!”

The name felt right for Madeline. She felt strangely nostalgic, as if the name (or something similar to it) felt familiar.

Madeline was grateful for her father’s gift. He knew that she had a love of animals, particularly birds, polar bears, and turtles.

The remainder of Madeline’s Christmas break progressed peacefully. She would remember those pleasant days, the calm before the storm.

The new year brought the cancer back with a vengeance. The same symptoms, along with a host of others.

To Madeline’s distress, chemotherapy had failed her father. Madeline’s father chose to undergo other forms of treatment, and when those didn’t work, he participated in clinical trials.

So the cycle repeated itself again. Winter turned to spring. February turned into March, which turned into April.

Madeline found herself alone more often at home. She found herself clinging to Kumarie as she fell asleep.

Eventually, treatment was no longer an option. Madeline knew that since her father was in the later stages of his cancer, he had little to no chance of surviving, but to hear her worst fears confirmed was heartbreaking. After Christmas, she had thought that things would get better.

Madeline could do nothing as her father deteriorated. All she could do was make sure her father’s last months were spent with no pain. Madeline made sure her father took his medication. She worked with medical and healthcare professionals to provide her father with the best hospice care. Madeline watched as her father began to lose interest in things that he used to enjoy: gardening, watching documentaries, bird watching. He slept more often and for longer periods each time. He had difficulty eating and drinking.

Her graduation came and went. Madeline was envious of her classmates whose family came to support them. She was alone once the ceremony ended.

In the last week of June, Madeline’s father became confused and delirious. When he looked at her, she could see in his eyes that he didn’t know who she was. The ache in her heart remained until the first day of July.

When Madeline was eighteen, her father died.

The two weeks following her father’s death were hectic. It felt like she was in a bubble, her mind elsewhere as her body focused on doing what was needed. Madeline contacted her father’s friends and told them about his death. She made arrangements for a funeral and proper burial. Madeline took care of the will, met with an attorney, and made a list of bills that needed to be paid.

As soon as all of this was done, the bubble popped. Reality set in for Madeline. Her father was gone. She would never hear his laughter again, or eat his cooking. No more hikes, or campfire stories, or stargazing. Gone was that consistent presence throughout her life, he who had always reassured her.

Madeline was lost. She was unsure what to do with herself, where to go from here. So she fell back into old habits. Madeline shopped, she did the laundry, she cleaned the house. Everything she did only served to remind her of her father’s passing: the foods he liked to eat, his clothes that were strewn about, antiques and other collectibles her father acquired during his life.

The garden was beginning to grow weeds. Madeline had taken care of it when her father was unable to. Now, she could not bring herself to do the same.

She distracted herself by watching movies, TV shows, anime, and Korean dramas. The thought of going outside and seeing happy people made her queasy. Why should the world not mourn with her? It was unfair.

Inkblot, Sneak, Susan, Oggy, and Woodstock. All of them were worried about Madeline. They wanted her to go out, talk with a therapist, and process her emotions. They knew that the way she was handling herself now did no one good, least of all her. Madeline rejected them. She said she was fine. She could handle it. They were overexaggerating.

Madeline continued like this for another month. It was August. By now, the weeds had completely overtaken the garden. Madeline felt guilty. Day by day she had watched as the weeds grew inch by inch. If her poor father could see his garden, he would be disappointed in her. After her father died, Madeline had also neglected to clean his room. The room might be dusty, but it was the memories it held that threatened to overtake her.

Madeline was cleaning the house as per usual, when she came to the door of her father’s bedroom. Madeline hesitated before opening it. The curtains were open, letting the sunlight spill in. She was correct in assuming the room would be dusty. Madeline vacuumed the floor, packed her father’s old clothes into boxes, and dusted everything else.

As she looked underneath her father’s bed, she found a chest. The chest was locked. Madeline searched her father’s desk drawers for a key. When she found it, she opened the chest. Inside of the chest was an old journal. It’s brown leather cover displayed signs of wear and tear.

Madeline opened the journal. Its pages were completely filled out. She flipped to the last page. The date of the last entry was the day of her seventeenth birthday, before things started to go wrong. Her eyes scanned the final journal entry:

MY DEAR MADELINE,

IF YOU ARE READING THIS, THEN I HAVE GONE.

I WISH I COULD HAVE STAYED WITH YOU LONGER.

BUT IT WAS NOT MEANT TO BE.

SO LIVE ON.

LIVE TO SEE THE JOYS THAT LIFE CAN BRING.

FOR SORROW DOES NOT LAST FOREVER.

Tears fell from Madeline’s eyes. The salty liquid stained the pages of the journal. Madeline hugged the journal close to her chest before her legs gave way beneath her. She sat on the floor in a crouched position, the journal lying discarded as her hands made her way to her face to wipe her tears.

The guilt came back full force. What was she doing spending her life like this when there was so much more out there for her to explore? In the wake of her father’s death, Madeline’s career as a photographer had been temporarily put on halt. She still earned money from her online store, photo prints, etc., but she had not been posting on her blog or social media.

It was in that moment that Madeline hardened her resolve to live her life the way she wanted to. She would travel the world and meet new people, just as she always dreamed of.

The pain would linger, for it never truly goes away, but it was no longer the only feeling in her heart. Madeline’s newfound determination fueled her.

The rest of the day was spent taming her father’s garden. Madeline did what she could to tame it for the day, but the weed killer would do the rest.

That night, Madeline rested in her bed, with Kumarie in her arms. Woodstock and Inkblot was perched on the headboard of her bed. Sneak and Oggy were hiding underneath the bed, while Susan was lying on the floor in a spare sleeping bag. The atmosphere was quiet and serene.

Madeline dozed off with a smile on her face.

Eyes fluttering open, Madeline yawned as her eyes blinked blearily. Her mind adjusted itself to the sight of her room and she saw all her friends wide awake and by her bedside. They were staring at her, or rather what she still held in her hold. Madeline shot them a questioning look until she felt the object of their focus move.

A startled gasp left her mouth as Madeline laid her eyes on a living, breathing polar bear cub. What?! What is this?! Kumarie is a stuffed toy! One that’s not supposed to be moving!

“Kumarie?!”

The bear gazed at Madeline.

“Who?”

“Kumarie, that’s your name, isn’t it?”

The redubbed Kumarie peered at Madeline before squinting down at its paws. After a pause, it concluded, “Yeah! My name is Kumarie.”

In the back of her mind, Madeline noted that Kumarie had a cute, high pitched voice.

There was nothing left to do but to take this new development in stride.

“Kumarie, do you like pancakes?”

“Yes!”

“Kumari” means “princess” in Indian, although it also means “cloudy” in Japanese. 

For anyone who is a family member, friend, or themself going through a tough time due to cancer, my condolences. If you have lost a loved one due to cancer, my heart goes out to you. I tried researching and making the symptoms and stages of lung cancer accurate. Everyone has a different way of mourning or grieving, so I hope Madeline’s behavior does not come across as odd.

[xserpentlife]

50 questions tag !

Tagged by no one but I saw @romanticgumchewer do it and thought it was cool so

1.) What color is your hairbrush?

so like i have bout 5 probably but now i only use one in the shower ad its this turqiouse bue color cause ya’ll if you got frizz or curls dont brush ya hair really at all just use ya fingers but also do it with conditioner and in the shower

2.) Name a food you never eat

freaking seafood eh blegh

3.) Are you usually too warm or too cold?

warm. all. the. time.

4.) What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

uhm swimming... no dinner and smelling disgusting seafood that made me wanna barf cause thsts whst my aunt/uncle and grandparents were making for dinner

5.) What’s your favorite candy bar?

oo idk uhm crunch noooo a flake bar they are from europe no like ireland i think so fucking good lemme tell you

6.) Have you ever been to a professional sports game?

yeah. Eagles, flyers, and phillies, and the reading phillies if you count them, oh and the 76ers and some college gsmes i think that is it

7.) What’s the last thing you said out loud?

nope i don’t want a smore

8.) What’s your favorite ice cream?

yall i got so many lemme get you on this shit. okay so ben and jerrys we talkin then its gottabe phish phood oj shit, but like all in al my fav is black raspberry tbh but also like i do keto so i do love me some coffee ice cream cause i can usually find that in “keto” ones. i like keto enlightened ice cream bars they are decent and low carb

9.) What was the last thing you had to drink?

crystal light or it may have been turkey hill diet green tea

10.) Do you like your wallet?

i mean yeah its a black michael kors it does it purpose lol, mostly i like it cause it has a lot of space for cards which like all my gift cards go there the only thing i don’t like is that the bitch gets hela heavy when coins get in it like jesus

11.) What’s the last thing you ate?

ham and cheese roll ups for diner cause they had fuckin seafood lol boutta be carots, but also wasn’t that hungry lol

12.) Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

nope!

13.) What’s the last sporting event you watched?

i believe that it was UFC

14.) What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

butter or white cheddar

15.) Who’s the last person you sent a text to?

my best friends so my friend from vegas and @wayward-river

16.) Ever go camping?

yep!

17.) Do you take vitamins?

i take a probiotic

18.) Do you go to church every Sunday?

nope

19.) Do you have a tan?

yupppp

20.) Do you prefer Chinese or pizza?

oooo uhm depends on what type of piza but ima say pizza... i have a cheese addiction

21.) Do you drink soda through a straw?

i don’t drink soda anymore

22.) What color socks do you usually wear?

vans socks in literally any color usually not black i try to get colored ones cause if i get the black i can never tell te old from the new unless they are like streched out or somethin

23.) Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

uhm yes lol. its my downfall but also like either go the speed limit or go 5 miles over do not go under becuase that is just not an option

24.) What terrifies you?

many things.

25.) Look to your left, what to you see?

flowers

26.) What chore do you hate the most?

vacuuming the sound drives me nuts. or no putting away laundry like hanging it up idk why i hate it but i do lik ill wash shit and fold it but actuly putting it way drives me nuts

27.) What do you think when you hear an Australian accent?

uhm hiiii but also adelaide idk why

28.) What’s your favorite soda?

dont drink it i drink ice drinks instead or the safeway brand sparkling water

29.) Do you go in fast food or in the drive through?

drive through

30.) What’s your favorite number?

24

31.) Who’s the last person you talked to?

in person? my little cousin

32.) Favorite cut of beef?

chicken just so many things can be done. chicken parm, grilled chicken, bbq chicken need i go on

33.) Last song you listened to?

welp i checked spotfy we were at the pool and it was me and my little cousin i was playing ehr playlist so it was did i mention from descendants hahah

34.) Last book you read?

oh god uhm i have no idea 

35.) Can you say the alphabet backwards?

no unless i go throguh the whole thing letter...... by.... letter

36.) Favorite day of the week?

thursday

37.) How do you like your coffee?

Iced with heavy cream i prefer cold brew or espresso tho, but usually cold brew

38.) Favorite pair of shoes?

Vans

39.) Time you normally wake up?

10- 10:30 sometimes 9

40.) Sunrise or sunsets?

sunsets

41.) How many blankets on your bed?

usually just my comforter sometimes my comforter and one or two otehrs dring the winter cause i like to be cold and keep my window open i keep my bedroom door closed and the heat in my room off

42.) Describe your kitchen plates?

i live with my aprents im still in college but when im at school rndoms hit that is cheap 

43.) Describe your kitchen at the moment?

tiny dorm kitchen or it will be first on campus apartment that looks like an insane asylum checkkkkkkk

44.) Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink?

i mean its not legal to sayyyyy

45.) Do you play cards?

yes omggggg my grandma s from the south i grew up on card games 500 rummy, oh hell too, i played poker with my grandpa to and 21

46.) What color is your car?

dark blue... kiki

47.) Can you change a tire?

yeppp!

48.) Your favorite state, province, country, etc.?

uhm idk i live in pennsylvania but I wouldn’t say i have a favorite state at least not yet

49.) Favorite job you’ve had?

I worked at this axe throwing place and honestly it was my favorite job i had. I was an axe master I basicaly taght people how to throw axes and like led mini games for hour long sessions it was hella fun, but my college scheldue and doctors appt got in the way so i got let go but it was fun while it lasted. or my own business i do photography on the side so that is also amazing and i absolutely love it and ned to do more of it.

50.) How did you get your biggest scar?

oh god i don’t even know.. i have huge scards from my chronic skin condition so either that orrrr maybe the scar on my leg it is not that big though like size of a nickel where a kick stand went into my leg, a lot of my scars are smaller or like blend into my skin fairly ell cause of my other scars or honestly i forget about them cause. i hae so many so i realy am not sure.

i tag @wayward-river @the-gargoyle-queen @whenallsaidanddone @riverdalebingo @theangriestpea @southsidevixen-blog