#monogamy never heard of her

[sovonight]

;

[w2sarcher]

for the best | harry lewis

summary: in which y/n and harry are in a 'casual' relationship

word count : 2.2k

a/n: this is inspired by the song 'the giver' by sarah kinsley so give it a listen!! hope u enjoy lovelies. super angsty eeeek and i have barely proof read it as i wrote it quite rushed after listening to the song so hope it's ok lol

warnings: angst(no happy ending) , references to sex, alcohol

requests: open <333

rest of my work : masterlist

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In the heart of the bustling city of London, amidst the chatter of late-night pub soirees and neon-lit streets, two individuals found each other in the most unexpected of ways. Y/N and Harry were acquaintances at most, their paths crossing occasionally at a mutual friend’s gathering or crowded house parties. Y/N, being a close friend of Chip and Cal’s, working occasionally behind the scenes with them on their podcast, and Harry, a friend of the fellas, who danced around in friendship circles and was known by nearly everyone - the two were bound to meet at some point. 

There was no denying that the pair shared a mutual attraction for one another. It was a chemistry so undeniable from the moment they met—they were drawn to each other like moths to a flame. And their encounters began innocently enough: casual flirtations and stolen glances exchanged at dimly lit bars and late-night gatherings—there was nothing more to it. Plus, Y/N had heard all the stories about him from their friends. That he’d just gotten out of a two-year relationship and was currently partaking in some debauched lifestyle, and she’d listen in on whispers about it too, that he was 'so good in bed’ but ‘not looking for anything serious’. She wasn’t completely sure if it was something she’d want to get involved in but she enjoyed the playfulness of their flirting nonetheless.

And Y/N was the same. Well, not in the sense that she was going out every night to try and 'score’ herself a good time with someone she’d wake up next to and not remember the name of, but in the sense that she just ended a lengthy relationship and was looking for something new. She knew the feeling of being lonely all too well, and she saw that in Harry. Beyond the way he capered around the bars and made the group laugh, she knew he was just lonely. While she knew deep down that in her heart she was a bit of a romantic and never used to just casually sleeping around, maybe something ‘not so serious’ with someone who was ‘good in bed’ would be something fun to try, something good for her. She was only young after all, and thought it would be a good break from her usual monogamy that she’d had going on for the past, however many years. So she let herself relax and dropped her guard down, allowing his flirtatious advances to be something more. And from there on their initial encounters began.

On one fateful evening, as the city hummed with the promise of excitement, Harry and Y/N found themselves alone as their friends danced and those that were in couples kissed the night away. The space between them crackled with anticipation, and they exchanged their usual playful banter over their glasses, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of jazz music that neither of them had heard before. Both of them knew what was on the other’s mind. With an interaction so heated with desire, burning like a wildfire out of control, and far too many shots of Sambuca mixed with obscene amounts of Long Island Iced Tea, it was bound to happen. It was the first night they ever dared share anything more than words, and as Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Y/N, they both knew that that one kiss had ignited a spark between them. Finally, it set a flickering flame between them, their hearts ablaze with longing and passion. And without a word or nod to their friends, they had abandoned their drinks and made their way back to Harry’s flat, bodies drawn together like magnets, like crazed teenagers who had just had their first kiss and couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

That very night, they shared a night of ecstasy, a whirlwind of tangled limbs, and whispered confessions. Revelling in one another’s touch, they explored every inch of skin with a hunger that bordered on desperation. It was raw and intense, a collision of bodies and souls that left them both breathless and yearning for more. 

And as dawn broke and the harsh light of morning filtered through the curtains, Harry and Y/N found themselves tangled in a web of confusion and uncertainty. They were just two strangers, bound together by lust and desire, with no expectations or promises between them. 

That’s how it all started. 

And, Y/N never did mean for it to be anything more than just two people trying to fill the void of a lonely night. But as the night turned to days, days to weeks, and weeks to months, the tryst between them continued, and they met whenever the urge struck. It was usually a text here or there from Harry asking if he could come over after a night out, to which Y/N would weigh options out in her head but inevitably always reply with a ‘Yes,’. It was a nice arrangement of freedom between them, and the thrill of forbidden passion drove them to new heights. 

Their friends were no strangers to what was going on between the pair. Uneasy glances were shared by the group as Harry and Y/N started leaving nights out early together, friends asking them, ‘Is this what you really want to be doing?’ or ‘You know these sorts of things never end well, right?’ but the pair didn’t care; it was their normal now.

It was different for them. They weren’t like their friends who were settling down and moving into houses with their significant others, some even having babies or getting engaged. They were lonely and just wanted to fill a void for a while—at least till the loneliness went away, they hoped. It was just how their nights went now; this was their routine, their shared intimacy—it was good for the pair. 

But Y/N knew nothing good ever lasts.

She had started to realise that maybe she wasn’t as good as Harry was at the whole casual idea of fun. While it was good for a while, the constant comments from friends about ‘This isn’t going to end well’ and ‘You’re so much better than this, Y/N’ caught up. The once-anxious looks turned to disapproving ones, and Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had started to form in her like a dark cloud over London in mid-February. She knew all too well that this was no longer a casual idea of fun.

There was nothing casual about their stolen kisses and his fingers playing with her hair. There was nothing casual about their whispered pillow talks about their lifelong dreams and childhood stories. There was nothing casual about his lips pecking her forehead and his hands holding her face like she was the world. And there was nothing casual about the pit in her stomach that she’d feel when she saw him chatting up a girl in a bar—a girl that couldn’t have looked more different to her. 

She realized it wasn’t right that she knew all his deepest, darkest secrets and that he knew hers. That she knew what foods upset his stomach or the way his nose crinkled when he felt nervous. The way he’d tap her thigh two times when they were out with friends to let her know that he wasn’t enjoying himself and wanted to leave. The way he held her as she lay on his lap and cried, his hands soothing her gently, There was nothing casual about it.

Y/N knew she had entered into their arrangement with the understanding that it was nothing more than a casual fling between ‘friends"—a temporary escape from the monotony of everyday life. But as she spent more and more time with Harry, she could see that she was getting more attached to and invested in their relationship than she had ever intended. And she wondered if it was the same for him—if the once lonely void in his heart felt filled by her presence. 

So one night, as they lay naked, tangled together in Harry’s bed, her head pressed on his chest and his hands messing around with her hair, Y/N found herself unable to hold back her emotions of uncertainty any longer. ‘’Harry,’’ she whispers, her voice quiet and shaky with inconstancy. ‘’Can I ask you something?’’

‘’What is it, Y/N?’’ his hand now moving to trace circles on her skin. 

‘’What is this?’’ 

‘’What do you mean?’’ he replies, sitting up slowly in the bed as Y/N’s head falls from his chest, and she’s forced to prop herself up so she’s now facing him.

Pulling the covers around her, Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever felt more vulnerable in her life. With his wide blue eyes staring at her, his flushed face, and his chest bare, she lets out a breath she didn’t even realise she was holding. 

‘’This,’’ she points her finger between the pair, ‘’between us.’’

Harry looks up, his eyes widened by his confusion. "Surely you know by now that we’ve said it thousands of times. It’s casual sex, Y/N,’’ he says with an awkward laugh. A laugh that sends the coldest shiver down Y/N’s spine.

‘’But is it casual anymore?’’ It feels like the temperature has dropped in the room by 10 degrees, and Y/N wishes there was more than a linen sheet covering her. ‘’It’s been six months, Harry.’’

‘’Yes, six months of casual sex,’’ he sighs. ‘’I thought we agreed on this.’’

‘’I know we did, but how is this casual anymore?’’ she pauses. ‘’What’s casual about us spending more days of the week together than apart? Or showing up to meet our friends while holding each other’s hands? The fact that we’ve spent half a year on this? Or the fact that I feel like I know every single thing about you?’’

‘’Y/N, I-’’

‘’No, Harry. There’s nothing casual about this, and you know it.’’

‘’No, I don’t know that, Y/N,’’ he fires back, ‘’we had an agreement,’’

‘’Well, the agreement has gone out the window, Harry.’’

‘’That’s not my fault.’’

‘’I’m not saying it’s your fault,’’ frustration growing as she combs her hands through her hair. ‘’I’m just saying this isn’t the same as when we first started this.’’

He lets out a long exhale, “I feel like you’re making this bigger than it actually is.’’, now shifting himself to the edge of the bed, almost as if he’s trying to get as far away from her as possible. To hide from her sudden confrontation.

‘’Well, I feel like you have no clue how I feel,’’ she exhales. ‘’Have you not heard what our friends think about this whole thing?’’

‘’When have we ever cared what our mates think?’’ he groans, standing up from the bed to pick up a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that they had discarded on the floor no so long ago.

And in that moment, it felt like between them stood an invisible wall. An intangible barrier crackling with tension. Each glance exchanged across the divide carried the weight of unspoken words, a silent plea from Y/N for understanding that was only left unanswered by Harry. Despite their proximity, it was clear the pair remained worlds apart, separated by the impenetrable fortress of their own insecurities and fears. And as Harry stood and Y/N remained on the bed in defeat, the tension hung heavy, bouncing off the four walls that formed Harry’s bedroom.

Y/N couldn’t even muster a reply, feeling too tired to even argue. She wasn’t going to get anywhere. He was set in stone by the fact that what the pair shared over the course of a half-year was nothing more than casual. And maybe it was all Y/N’s fault that she had started to feel like there was something more than what he said there was, but she knew deep down it couldn’t have been all her fault. She knew it was him, too. With his whispered sentiments, caring touches, and shared moments and kisses in places only a lover should dare to kiss, she knew it was him too. 

Harry realises she’s got nothing more to say as he looks down at her, sitting bare in his bed, her eyes wide and pleading.

Clearing his throat, he knows he’ll regret it in the morning but continues, ‘’Y/N, I think it’s best if you leave.’’ 

And Y/N feels like her heart falls from out of her chest. She’d not anticipated him asking her to leave. She hadn’t even anticipated the fact that he would be so adamant in the fact that there was nothing more than sex between the pair; she was unprepared and left defeated.

They share no words as Y/N scampers to find her abandoned clothing, and Harry stands awkwardly by the corner of the bed, turning around while she dresses, despite having seen it all before a hundred times. 

And with one parting look, Y/N reaches his door, giving him one last glance with parted lips. She’s desperate to say something, but no words come out. If her lips could open, she’d scream and tell him what she really wants to say, but they don't.

‘’It’s for the best.’’ he whispers, as she’s half way out the door, and as she goes to leave his apartment, she barely notices the tears that fill up her eyes and fall gently down her face.

And in that moment, she knew that Harry was nothing more than a lonely boy, his heart still empty and her presence wasted on him. The sound of his blinking eyes, his soothing hands, his beating heart, and the way he moved were all just a waste of time. 

It’s for the best.

-

part two -> here

a/n: super angsty harry & y/n piece for you all!!! hope u all enjoy. might do a part 2 cos i'm a sucker for a happy ending so let me know if thats something you'd be interested in. thanks for reading & i really appreciate all the likes and reblogs xxx

[seventeenpins]

bloom

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

word count: 5.8k

summary: part three of bad girl. you decide to go out on a tinder date. joel gets jealous.

warnings: joel is an asshole, stepcest, infidelity, oral sex, somnophilia (mentioned) unsafe piv, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, daddy kink, age difference (reader is late 20s, joel is mid-40s), a bit of dom/sub vibes, smidge of role reversal (really just two stubborn people being stubborn), multiple orgasms, romance almost????, joel is sad and lost and possibly in love but mainly just wants to be wanted (but is bad at talking about real things), maybe not edited as much as it ought to be--pls tell me if there are any glaring issues you notice

a/n: finally finally actually got this finished weeks after i was certain i'd be posting. thanks to @livingdeadmaria for the jealousy angle. kinda gets away from itself, but i hope very much that you enjoy. i can't begin to express how much i appreciate your thoughtful messages and comments and interactions 💕

these past few weeks had gone by in a blur and you're hyperaware of how quickly the time is passing. joel had been taking good care of you, fucking you pretty much any time your mom was out of the house, and a couple times when she wasn't.

after casually mentioning how you'd love for him to make you feel good every minute of the day, he had laughed.

"doubt you'd want me makin' ya feel good if you're not even awake to enjoy it," he'd said.

"are you kidding me? waking up to you playing with me sounds like a dream," you told him, and he stilled, swallowing deeply.

your mom would pass out heavily after a night of drinking, and when her snores started in earnest, joel would sneak into your room, lock the door, and wake you up by dragging a palm over your tits, pinching at your nipples, rubbing a finger along your pussy, all the while telling you how good you're doin', that you taste so fuckin' sweet, god you're a fuckin angel when you're sleepin', and the one that you heard him say right as you woke up with his fingers deep in your cunt and a hand on your breast, already all worked up, and you came instantly; "you'd better hush that goddamn mouth or i'll hush it for you, baby, you gotta be quiet for daddy or your momma might wake up and then daddy won't be able to make you feel good like this-"

so no, you weren't unsatisfied with your sex life. in fact, you were more than satisfied.

it scared the hell out of you.

you were waiting, you realised, for shit to hit the fan. for joel to get bored with you. to get too busy. to come to his senses.

and, after all, the summer would be over soon, and you'll be back to your usual life. getting absolutely railed by your stepdad didn't exactly seem like something that was sustainable, long-term.

the two of you had never defined this, but you decided you needed a palate cleanser. something that'd catapult you back into the real world. if you ended up with a disappointing hookup, so be it. most hookups were, and the pornographically cinematic sex you were having with joel couldn't last forever. hell, you expected him to file for divorce any day now, and the likelihood of having any kind of relationship after he'd gone for good seemed very low indeed.

and so you decided that it was unhealthy to focus on only one person, especially when monogamy had never suited you, and the one person just so happened to be your stepdad.

you'd never deleted tinder but you couldn't remember the last time you'd opened the app. at this point, you'd convinced yourself you kept it because you thought of it as a kind of sociological study -- you endured because it meant you got to examine the extremes of human behavior and it was absolutely fucking fascinating.

so you scrolled aimlessly, appreciating the change in the pool of people that was your hometown, but quickly cursing yourself when you saw that a former student teacher of yours had just super liked you. horrifying.

you stared at your phone screen--swiping left on almost everyone, adjusting your filters to include ages 25-50, and feeling wholeheartedly disappointed at what tinder had to offer--until one face popped up. you'd almost swiped left by default, but stopped yourself just in time.

it's your old high school boyfriend, connor. not your first. not your last. but the most serious you'd had throughout high school, and definitively one of the best sexual experiences you'd had before your twenties. you'd ended things on good terms before you each went off to college.

his entire profile, you decide, is an assortment of green flags containing exactly what you need; looking for short term fun. social drinker and 420 friendly.

he's got a couple of goofy pictures, but he's aged well in the past decade, and you'd be down to find out if he's as good a lay as you remember. no possibility of falling in love; you're both only in town for the summer, nor are you looking for anything long-term. and, you add on to your mental list of reasons, he was never a creep, nor a murderer, and though that's a very low bar it's still nice to clear it. you can work with this. you swipe right and it's a match!

your mom has a girls weekend planned that you think might actually involve her and her friends, and joel told you he'll be out all weekend for his brother's bachelor party, so that's when you decide to set your date. it's nice to have the option to bring a guy back home and not have to worry about any awkward situations.

it's a friday night and you are all dolled up. your dress is tight, your tits look amazing, and the bar is lively. tonight is clearly the night to be out. there's a celebration going on in the corner with an incredibly drunk birthday girl scream-singing along to the music. pool tables packed. a group of men loudly complaining about the friend they're waiting for who's always late.

it doesn't take you long to spot connor. he's there, looking surprisingly good, leaning against the bar. a flash of dazzling white greets you when he catches your eye, grinning.

"hey," connor calls over to you, "it's been a minute! you look great!"

he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and looks you up and down, eyes sweeping over the spill of your cleavage and cinch of your curves. you know you look good, and he knows it too.

"wasn't sure if this was still your drink," he tells you, passing you a mojito, "but this is for you."

"i can't believe you remembered!" you tell him--mojitos used to be your favorite-- "i usually go for something less sweet these days, but i still love em. thank you."

you take a sip and watch as he takes a big gulp of his beer. the condensation on the bottle drips down his thumb, a drop of moisture hanging on for a moment before falling. his arms are nicer than you remember, veins drawn in beautiful patterns, muscles tensing at seemingly the slightest movement.

yeah, you could fuck him.

he offers you a questioning half smile and you realise you've really just been staring at him, not sure how long for. "didn't realise how hot you'd gotten," you tell him, and he cracks up. any uncomfortable tension dissolves, and you relax into it. you're almost able to forget about joel miller.

you're having a great night. one drink turns to three and before you know it, you're on the dance floor, enjoying the sensation of connor's hands all over you--holding your waist, brushing your cheek, groping at your ass as you grind together, both of you hot and sweaty and feeling wonderful. you turn your face to connor and kiss him, hot and passionate, running your tongue along his perfect teeth. it's... nice. he lets out a little whimper, which you like, but where joel would've leaned in deeper, cupped your face, tangled his hands in your hair and growled into your mouth in response, connor pulls back and practically giggles. "you're so sexy, baby," he says, and that's all fine and good, but it's not as exciting as you'd hoped. it just feels bland.

but you've made the effort to come out, and you're not gonna give up just yet.

you kiss him again, trying to will a bit of passion into the exchange, but all of a sudden he's shoved aside by some asshole barrelling past and he's nearly knocked over.

"hey what the fuck!" connor shouts, and the person who shoved into him stops. turns to you both.

before you see his face, you know it's him. broad shoulders and a muscled back. patchy beard. great forearms. and his jaw is set in the most beautiful scowl you've ever seen.

"joel-" you gasp.

this wasn't part of the plan. why the fuck is he here?

then you notice the group of somewhat rowdy men in the corner, right in the direction he was heading. one of them calls over in his direction, and he holds up a finger before turning back to you.

this must be his brother's bachelor party.

connor looks between the two of you. "you know this guy?" he asks, and you nod. he turns to joel. "you need to watch where you're walking, man."

a muscle in joel's clenched jaw ticks as he stares him down, and connor takes a tiny step back.

"connor," you say, "this is, uh, this is joel. my stepdad. joel, this is connor."

"oh," connor says, "well, just be more careful next time. nice to meet you, man. joel."

he extends a hand, which joel blatantly ignores as he fixes you with a gaze.

"best be gettin' home, sweetheart," he says, tone colder than you've ever heard it before. you swear you can see a vein in his forehead pulsing. "it's getting late."

you raise your eyebrows. is he... mad? and if so, is this the best he can do? "joel, it's a friday night. i'm having a good time, and i'm gonna keep having a good time."

he stares you down.

"that alright?" you ask, a challenge.

he grits his teeth again and nods sharply, hissing out a fine, throwing one last glare at connor before he walks away rigidly.

connor frowns at you and you shrug, but you glance over at joel, watching him retreat.

now that you know he's here, at this bar, it's almost impossible not to keep looking over at him.

he looks strangely awkward over there, like he's trying to appear relaxed but is following a relaxation guide written by aliens. he's rigid. uncomfortable. a man clasps him on the shoulder (his brother?) and doubles over in a laugh, which he seems to join half-heartedly. you can see how he's holding his beer with a white-knuckled grasp. his shoulders have relaxed a little, but in a way that looks intentional. you're not sure if anyone else would notice, but you've watched joel a lot these past few weeks. you can see it. you don't know what that means.

as connor tells you all about his work, you catch joel looking at you, too. there are a few times your eyes meet and something would flash between you. if connor noticed that you were distracted, he didn't show it.

you're a few more drinks in, loose and warm, getting quite cosy, when connor's phone starts to buzz. he glances the name on the caller id and his eyes go wide. "i'm so sorry," he tells you, points at his phone, "a friend of mine's going through a hard time--i need to get this. excuse me a minute?"

"of course!" you tell him, and watch him head outside for some quiet.

it takes less than two minutes before you feel joel sidle up beside you. you know it's him before you even turn to look.

"hi, joel," you say, and he grunts in response.

you're silent for a moment.

"so," you try again, "you wanna tell me why you look like you've been chewing a lemon?"

he frowns. "huh?"

"sour," you supply.

he rolls his eyes.

"don't like seein ya with that boy."

"oh really?" you ask, "and how is that any of your business? has he offended you in some way?"

he shrugs. "just don't like it."

"i'm gonna try again, joel. what's your fuckin problem?"

he huffs out a breath. "a fuckin' kid like that's just tryin' to get his dick wet."

"i should hope so," you scoff, "that's kinda the point."

"seriously?" his voice drops to a lower register, "am i not takin' good enough care of you?"

"no, joel, it's not-"

he cuts you off, "hush, girl-" and despite the quiet of his words, now you notice the slight slur to them. "cos how i remember it," he tells you, "just a day ago you were cryin' my name, ridin' my cock."

you feel your face heat, but he keeps going- "would you let that boy fuck you raw? huh?" he doesn't even give you a chance to respond. "guess you really do take after your momma, huh? mother's a whore and her daughter is too."

"fuck you joel-"

"worst mistake of my fuckin' life getting mixed up with all this shit- with you-"

rage surges through you, shoving aside any embarrassment you felt earlier, and before you can stop yourself, you slap joel across the face.

the impact breaks something that's been building and you both reel back, deflated. you stare at each other for a moment in shock and silence. the place your hand made contact with him starts to bloom blotchy red.

joel rubs his jaw with his palm and winces. "okay, i deserved that," he huffs.

you soften just a little, "you did deserve that."

"i shouldn't be talkin' to ya like that," he groans, chastened, "not your fault. i've had too much to drink, i think. gonna stick with water the rest of the night."

"can we call a truce for tonight?" you ask. connor could be back any moment now and you aren't gonna do any of this in front of him. but as unreasonable as joel's being, you don't wanna hurt him. your anger has all but dissolved and you just want peace.

"sure," he says, "truce."

you smile, half-hearted.

"so, big bachelor party, huh?" you ask, nodding at his group still in the corner.

"hah," he breathes, "yeah. can't believe my little brother's gettin' married."

"which one is he?"

joel points. "over there. the one in th' button-down, currently double fistin' his beer."

you roll your eyes. "no wonder you're so fucked up. must run in the family," you say pointedly, and he knows he's not off the hook for his earlier jibe.

a pause.

"so, who is this guy?" he asks, and he notices you tense. "no, no, i'm not gonna- be more of an asshole."

"good."

"so?"

"his name is connor. we dated back in high school. just seemed like a safe option for a hookup. no strings, any of that."

joel hums. grimaces. "seems a bit young for you, hmm? you seem to like your men old and grey, not bright eyed and bushy tailed."

you snort and roll your eyes, "oh, fuck off."

the moment falls between you.

"look, joel. i don't know what- this is between us." you gesture between the two of you, "like, it's not... sustainable. i know that. you're married to my fuckin' mom, and that's not even touching our age gap."

he sighs. "yeah. i know."

"so, what is it you want? from me? from this?"

he huffs out a breath. "truth is, i don't know," he admits.

"well, you sure as fuck had better figure it out

"he finds out his wife's cheating on him, he fucks her daughter-"

"hey, don' say it like that-"

"-and then gets jealous at the thought of her daughter fucking someone else."

"hey now-"

"am i wrong?"

silence. an awkward cough.

"no," he concedes, "you're not wrong. and i don't know what this is, but i do know what i want."

"and what's that?"

"you."

you stare at one another. he leans towards you, his voice gravelly, barely above a whisper.

"i want you to forget all about that boy. i wanna make you feel good, as much as i can for as long as i can. i wanna make you come on my tongue, and my fingers, and my cock. i wanna hear you scream my name-"

your breath hitches and you can almost taste the whiskey on his warm breath as it tickles your cheek. joel's hand is gripping your arm now and the grip is a comfort.

of course, that's the exact moment connor reappears.

"hey, there, sorry it took so long! really glad i picked up-"

you and joel pull back, and mostly manage to pull off looking casually friendly, but connor misreads it entirely and looks between the two of you.

and then he turns on joel.

"get off her ass, old man," he hisses, "she's an adult, and you're not even her dad! she can stay out if she wants to!"

joel stares at him, wide-eyed, startled as hell, and you do your best to stifle a laugh at the idea of joel being your actual dad. yikes.

"it's okay babe," you reach out to connor, patting his arm to soothe him. "joel and i were just catching up. is your friend okay?"

his eyes dart between you before he tries to catch up. recalibrate.

"uh, yeah-" he says, "yeah he was having a hard time but i think he's doing better now."

another glance to joel. back to you.

"so, uh-" he ventures, tentative, "do you wanna get out of here?"

if it hadn't been for joel turning up at this bar, you'd say yes in a heartbeat.

but you know for a damn fact that isn't gonna happen now.

"ah shit, connor, i'm sorry. i'm feeling a bit off tonight, and i think i should call it an early night."

"oh."

"i'm really sorry, it really was nice to see you."

connor sighs, nods, and then flashes you one last dazzling smile.

"you too," he says, and leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "take care of yourself, yeah? and if you ever wanna meet up again, just let me know."

you nod and watch as he walks away.

it's only a moment later that you feel joel's hand snake around your waist and hold you close to him. it's familiar and lovely, the callouses that trace across your skin.

'i think," you tell him, "you should tell your group you're heading out soon."

he looks over at the group and one of them waves at him with a confused expression on his face.

"and then i want you to meet me in the bathroom. single stall at the end of the hallway. don't make me wait more than ten minutes."

joel's mouth goes very dry very quickly, and he nods almost too eagerly. his pupils are blown and you can't get enough of the bead of sweat that rolls from his temple.

"good boy," you tell him and he gulps. turns away from you and back to his group.

you walk towards the bathrooms and catch his gaze and a brief nod as you walk by him.

you feel exhilarated. goosebumps prickle up and down your arms and your stomach flips in an excited swoop. you've inadvertently just swapped roles. you didn't tend to take the lead, at least not in this way. if anything, you tended to beg, please daddy, please fuck me.

after you close the bathroom door behind you, you take a moment to collect yourself. you adjust your hair, smooth out your dress, and wait.

a few minutes pass, and then--a knock at the door. three gentle raps; a rhythm you know so well.

you open the door, grab him by the collar, and pull him in.

he practically squeaks as he's pulled through, but then you're pressing him against the door and he melts under you. he lets out a long, throaty groan as your tongue drags along his jaw, your hands slapping his out of the way as you undo the buttons of his shirt and rake your nails down his chest.

"gonna put your money where your mouth is?" you ask. his brow furrows. "gonna make me feel good, daddy?"

"yes-" he moans and devours your mouth in a kiss. pulls away, breathless, "what do you want, baby, tell me--"

"mouth. and fingers."

"god yes-"

before you have a moment to react, he hikes the skirt of your dress up and backs you up against the sink. "get on up, baby," he says, and you do, hopping up onto the sink with your skirt around your waist and your panties on full display, damp and translucent with your slick. you lean back against the mirror and joel grabs at your thighs, spreading them wider apart.

when he sees how wet you are, he lets out a strangled moan. "jesus christ, honey-" he says, and drags his forefinger along your slit, through your panties, "you're gonna fuckin' kill me."

then he looks at you with those dark, beautiful eyes. searches your face. then drops to his knees.

he starts by mouthing against your panties, just his lips at first, but then he starts to lick and suck at you, sucking your slick from the fabric.

"cute panties," he tells you, and then he's got his fingers hooked on the waistband and pulls them down and off you, helping to lift your hips.

then, when they're off, he wraps them around his hand, buries his nose into his fist and inhales deeply.

"fucking hell, joel-" you breathe, and he turns a little pink, grinning sheepishly. fuckin' joel miller sniffing your panties. how is it that that's the hottest thing you've ever seen?

he doesn't liger too long, though. before you know it, his big hands are grabbing at your thighs again, holding you open. then he's tracing a fingertip along your cunt. prodding in, just a little. pushing your folds open and looking at how messy you already are. sloppily scissoring his fingers, opening you up

"needy little thing, huh?" joel asks and you nod.

leaving his fingers inside, he pulls the hood of your clit back with his thumb and leans in to kitten lick it. it leaves you writhing, but the grip of his other hand on your thigh helps keep you in place. he pulls back, just a little, and spits on your pussy. rubs it in with the thumb, giving you the most lovely pressure, extra slick exactly where you need it.

pumps gently, leaning back in to start licking you in earnest. after a few lazy pumps, he hooks his fingers in you and starts pressing into you with more speed, more urgency.

he pulls back for only a moment and you can see that his moustache and his bottom lip are glistening with your slick. he opens his mouth to praise you, telling you those perfect sounds you're makin' are drivin' me crazy, honey, love how you let daddy know just how good he's makin ya feel, that's it, don't hold back-

and suddenly you're coming.

despite the dullness from the alcohol, and the fact that you're propped up on a sink and just realising your back is smashed up against an uncomfortable knobby faucet--despite all that--waves of pleasure surge through you, hot and bright at your core, flowing across your entire body as you ride his fingers, practically sobbing his name.

your hips rock back up, forcing his fingers deeper into you, and he holds you tight as you ride it through.

for a moment, your vision is replaced with a million little black dots, but then the haze clears and you see joel kneeling in front of you, one hand with stilled fingers still inside you, the other, grasping your hip and holding on gently but firmly.

it takes you longer than you expected to come down from it, but after a few minutes you've gathered yourself.

joel's no longer fingering you, instead rubbing soothing circles to a sensitive bit right at the inside of your thigh. he's telling you lovely things, and you bask in the sensation of his closeness.. you notice his fingers feel funny, but you let out a giggle when you realise they're pruney from being inside you.

he notices what you're looking at and snorts. then thinks for a moment. decides.

"you got any plans tonight?" joel asks you.

"just connor," you laugh, and joel glowers, unimpressed.

"but no, this was much better. and i have no other plans tonight. got something in mind?"

he nods, and suddenly looks almost bashful. "i've got a hotel room. technically part of the bachelor party, but my room's at the opposite end of the hallway from the rest of the party."

you grin.

"i know-" he starts, "i know we hardly ever have a chance to sleep in a bed together. but this could be a chance. if you want?"

for the second time this evening, you grab him by the collar and pull him in for a kiss.

the hotel is really only ten minutes away, but it feels like about five million hours.

you're trying not to look recently fucked, and joel's trying not to let his enormous hard-on look visible through his jeans.

you both sit rigidly in the back seat of the cab. neither of you know if you're being too cautious, or not cautious enough, but you both want to keep whatever you're doing between just the two of you.

despite the distance, though, you can still feel the tug between you. you could cut the tension with a knife. it's only when you arrive at your destination do you feel like you can breathe again. you don't know how, but you know joel feels it too.

there was always the risk that joel's brother could, potentially, run into them in the elevator.

so, all things considered, it was a really, really stupid idea to fool around on the elevator ride to the tenth floor.

"think they have cameras in here?" you ask, and joel snorts.

"if they do, they'll be getting quite a show, huh baby?"

"yes daddy," you agree, and joel groans at your words, closing his eyes, his head tilting back to rest against the cool metal wall behind him. he feels you undo his zipper, unfastens his belt and the button of his jeans. then the wet warmth of your mouth is wrapped against the head of his cock and his groan turns into a shudder of absolute pleasure.

his pants are still up at his hips, cock hanging out impressively. you drag your nails along his thighs all the same, providing enough pressure so he doesn't lose sensation through the fabric.

his hands are tangled up in your hair as you pull his hips towards you, encouraging him to fuck your throat. he's getting frantic, when the elevator suddenly dings!

you break apart instantly and for a moment your stomach flips as you're certain someone else is about to walk into the elevator, but then you realise you've arrived at your floor.

joel composes himself, slicks his sweaty hair back and pulls his pants back up, pretending to ignore the enormous hard-on straining against the fabric.

"this way," he tells you, and you follow him.

any initial reversal of your usual roles becomes a rhythm of give and take. you're barely through the door before joel's grabbing at the hem of your dress and pulling it up and over your shoulders. unhooks your bra and tosses it to the floor.

he stands there and stares at you for a moment, mapping out every curve, every angle, every stretch mark. you're completely bare for him, your panties still in his pocket.

then he's on you, hands gripping your waist, your jaw, stroking over your breasts, fingers dragging over your bellybutton, cupping your pussy-- the sensation is overwhelming, almost too much. if someone told you he'd grown extra hands, you'd believe them; his touch is all over you.

"you feel so good baby," he tells you as his hands slide down to grab at your ass, "you sweet thing-"

you work at unbuttoning his shirt, shoving it off his arms. you pull off his belt, too, which he never rebuckled. shuck his pants down, drop to your knees.

but then he pulls you back up. "uh-uh," he shakes his head, "get on this bed right now for daddy. i wanna taste you while you taste me."

you scoot back onto the bed and lay down, your head near the pillows. joel walks around the bed and kisses you once more, deeply, and then he yanks off his socks and straddles your face.

"this okay baby?" he asks. his cock is thick and heavy and hanging against your cheek.

"yes, daddy-" you tell him, and move to take a tentative lick of his swollen head.

"good girl," he groans and stretches out. you grab his cock with one hand, gripping onto his hip with the other. you guide his cock in your mouth, relaxing and opening your throat just how you need to for this angle. the salty tang is perfect, and you can feel his body tremble.

then you can feel his breath on your abdomen as he trails kisses down and down and down and then his lips meet yours, his hands grip your ass, and he's pointed his tongue in the most delicious way as it flicks over your clit and then inside you. you're doing your best to stay focused on sucking his cock--you know he hasn't gotten off once yet tonight--but the sensation starts to build and build and build and it's all you can do to at least keep your throat open for him to fuck into as he brings you towards another climax.

he holds onto you as you come, as if any distance would cause you to disintegrate. you ride his tongue, dazed by the sensation, the brush of his beard, the way he's gotten loud and feral as he licks up the slick of your release. your thighs are wet, both from your own arousal and his spit, and as you come back to yourself, you know you need him to fuck you.

"joel-," you say, and he ignores you, continuing to lick at you.

"joel, please-," you beg, "need your cock so bad. need you to fuck me, to fill me up-"

he pulls back, "try again," and then dives in again.

"daddy, please!", you cry, and it comes out almost as a shout.m

"there's my good girl," he tells you, and swings his leg back over you so he's no longer straddling your face. he holds his dick and slaps it a few times on your cheek. "need this cock filling you up?"

"yes."

"better beg for it, baby girl."

you fucking love when he makes you beg, but you hate it too. he walks around the bed and then kneels on the foot of it. hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you towards him.

"need it, daddy. use this pussy, use me, please-" your begging has turned to whining, and joel's eyes are blown black, hard and beautiful as he looks at you.

"fill me up with your cum, take your pleasure from me, daddy, let me be so good for you."

in a single fluid motion, he yanks your knees up onto his shoulders and fucks into you in with a single long thrust.

you scream out, it's so much and so good.

"such a good girl, huh?" he asks you, cupping your jaw as he pounds into you. it's not soft, not languid, not gentle. he sets a brutal pace, his hips stuttering, cock ramming into you again and again and again. "sweet little toy for me to use, aren't you baby? keep that pussy open wide for your daddy, huh? so wet for me, you just wanna make daddy feel good, don'tcha?"

the sensation is too much, his coarse hair grinding against your clit as he fucks so deeply into you, sending sparks flying through you at the thought of it. he presses a palm into your belly, just below your navel, and the pleasure increases beautifully.

you've lost the ability to form coherent sentences, just "yes, yes, yes, so good daddy, so fucking deep, you're so big, such a big fuckin' cock, fuck!"

his moans have turned into strangled grunts, all his focus on getting himself off in you. you adjust your hips just a little and the angle allows him to press in just that little bit deeper.

"you love feeling me in here, don't ya?" he asks, pressing his fingers harder into your belly, pulling a moan from you you weren't expecting. his eyes flicker back to your face and his eyes crinkle, "takin' daddy's cock so nice."

then he moves his fingers back down to play with your clit again.

"gettin' close, baby," he tells you, "but i need just one more from ya. can you do that, pretty girl? come one more time on daddy's dick?"

you whine and writhe but you know you can--it's already building--and you tell him so.

"that's my good girl," he praises, his fingertips slick and teasing as he coaxes another orgasm out of you.

it hits you like a freight train, and suddenly you're spasming around him, sucking his cock almost deeper inside you, exploding with waves and waves of pleasure. you scream, and he lets out a strangled cry before he spills inside you.

it takes a few minutes before either of you move again. he pulls himself out gingerly, and you wince at the lack of fullness.

"took it so nice, baby," he tells you, and cupping a soothing hand over your pussy, being careful to avoid your clit or anything too sensitive. he pulls his hand away and looks at the mess on it, your come mixed together and dripping out of you. "so good for me."

then he kisses you, gentle, sweet and deep.

he runs a shower for the both of you and scrubs you both clean. it's possibly the most tender moment you've had with him, as he tucks a wet lock of your hair back, kissing you again as his softened cock presses against you and you let yourself savour the sensation of your bodies inhabiting the same space.

joel sorts through the linens and changes the sheets before you go to bed. it's unnecessary and oddly thoughtful, something you didn't really expect.

he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as you snuggle in together. you can feel your eyelids growing heavy, but joel brings you back to him before you can drift off properly.

"you asked what this is between us. what i wanted."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

"i-" he falters, "i still don't know. but i know that i care for you."

"joel-"

"and i know there's no place i'd rather be right now."

you let that sit for a moment. then turn and kiss him.

"go to sleep, joel."

"okay, pretty lady."

he pulls you close and you drift off in his arms.

[seethesin]

i hate that i love you

pairing: Shane McCutcheon x F!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, established friendship, cheating, hatefucking, fingerfucking, service top!shane, power bottom!reader (mdni, 18+)

a/n: this is my angst attempt. as per usual, i have to add smut to it. still rubbing my brain cells together for some fluffy ideas. enjoy :)

"I can't fucking believe you, Shane."

Who were you kidding? You knew her; this was inevitable.

Monogamy was uncharted territory for Shane. There was a reason she was so hesitant to commit to any romantic relationship when the opportunity presented itself. When things got stagnant, she got fidgety. Her eyes wandered and before she even knew it, she was leaving a trail of broken hearts and crushed egos in her wake.

As one of her closest friends, you understood how Shane operated. You've come to accept everything that came with her. Each night there was a new woman in Shane's bed and each night you were kept awake by the constant reminder that what you wanted would always be out of reach.

From the beginning, the lothario's charms never worked on you. According to Alice, you were impervious to the Shane test since they met you. Whether it be your strong will or grounded sense of self-worth, you refused to be wooed by the shaggy-haired ladykiller you now shared a house with.

But as your friendship deepened, pesky feelings began to brew in the pit of your stomach. Unlike the women she slept with, your friendship allowed you to see Shane in a three-dimensional light. Her fierce loyalty to her friends, immense love for those close to her, and unwavering determination to meet her goals dragged you further and further down a rabbit hole you weren't prepared to venture through.

You despised the way your heart would hammer in your ribcage anytime she flashed a genuine grin your way. You hated how meaningless touches made your stomach flip and your breath hitch. And you loathed sitting through any conversation that included Shane fucking a woman that wasn't you. But no matter how frequently you recognized your feelings, you could not pursue them.

You heard those women when they left your house. A switch flickered on for most of them but the ones who didn't realize soon enough were left devastated. There would be no next time. There were no feelings to talk about. It was just about the sex.

Shane needed to stay your friend.

So you did what you did best; you swallowed your feelings and shoved them down deep into your gut. This was an act of self-preservation.

It didn't take long for you to find someone else. She was sweet, compassionate, and most importantly, could commit to a relationship. It was what you needed and what you couldn't get from Shane. You've been dating steadily for a month now. A blissful, healthy month may you add. You had even introduced her to your friends who were thrilled by the new addition.

Except Shane.

Any time you brought your girlfriend along or even mentioned her to Shane, her mood did a one-eighty. She was uncharacteristically colder, more aloof, and found any excuse to leave you sooner than necessary. Saying it hurt would be putting it lightly. You expected Shane—as one of your closest friends—to support you the same way she did for Alice, Bette, and the rest of the ladies. Was your happiness less important to her than everyone else's?

Apparently so.

Tonight, you were coming home from Tina and Bette's house. They had asked you if you could watch Angie and naturally, you agreed. As you made your way up to your front door, it opened on its own, revealing your girlfriend. She was in a wrinkled dress, had unkempt hair, and smudged makeup across her face. The two of you locked eyes and she visibly paled. Like a deer in headlights, she froze, lower lip trembling. Without a word, she ducked away from your sight and hurried away. Looking into your house you saw Shane sitting at the kitchen table, hurriedly closing the clasp of her belt.

This instigated the current screaming match you and Shane were currently participating in.

"She didn't tell me she was seeing anyone!" Shane yelled, elbows digging into the hardwood table as she cupped her head in her hands. You paced around restlessly, gritting your teeth before snapping your attention back at her.

"I've brought her over here before, Shane—you met her numerous times already! Were you too busy shoving your tongue in her cunt to notice?"

Shane's lips mashed shut at your response, eyes trained on the floor. She had no response and you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you threw your hands up.

"You don't even fucking care," you breathed, pulling the chair across from her out so you could sit down. "Why do you not fucking care?"

"I'm sorry," she starts, and no, no she is not sorry. If she was sorry, she wouldn't have done this to begin with. Shane wouldn't have fucked your now ex-girlfriend—she finally decided to try calling you by the way, not like you were going to pick up now—in your own house.

"Bullshit."

Your anger churned in your gut and seared up to your throat like bile. The rage triggered your buried feelings for Shane, melding them together into something that made you physically sick. Right now, you hated yourself more than Shane. This was a grave offense and here you were, wanting nothing more than to crush her face between your legs. You wanted to yank her by her hair, part her lips, and shove yourself down until she was gasping for air. Digging half moons into your palms, you stared daggers into her head.

"Why did you do it?"

Shane is silent, but you can almost feel the gears turning in her head. She wants to say something, but she refuses.

"Shane."

Nothing.

"Shane, look at me."

She obeys instantaneously, jerking her head up to meet your gaze.

"Why did you do it?" You ask again, each word staccato as you wring your hands into fists.

"She wasn't good for you." she finally replies and you laugh in disbelief.

"So what is good for me, Shane? Is being cheated on good for me? Is my friend taking part in that good for me too?"

"No—"

"Then why did you do it?" Your voice slides an octave higher, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. You can feel your throat begin to close as a stray tear rolls down your face. Quickly, you brush it away.

"Because I love you."

That does it.

The dam in your chest breaks and you finally cry. Shane is stunned, plastered to her seat as she watches you rack into sobs. Gently, her hand slides forward on the table, finding your hand. You recoil as if she slapped you and she retreats back to her side of the table.

"No, fuck you; you don't get to say that to me." Not when you spent all this time getting over how you felt about Shane. You couldn't go backward.

But a sick, nasty part of you reveled in the proclamation. It was warped validation that everything you've felt for her was reciprocated. It satisfied you in a primal way and your stomach twisted itself into knots over it. Not even bothering to filter out your rampant thoughts, you ask her the question burning on your tongue.

"How did you fuck her?"

The silence after you spoke was deafening. Shane's eyes are wider than saucers.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

She looked at you like a cornered animal.

"I—" you get out of your chair, stalking around the table before standing in front of her. Glaring down at her, your hands find themselves on the arms of her chair. You lean in slowly—predatorily—before speaking again.

"Show me, Shane. Since you love me so much." Your voice cracks from crying, but the venom drips from every word.

Shane's throat bobs as she swallows. Her hands are on your hips, dragging you forward. You're already working on the button of your pants, unzipping swiftly before shoving them down your knees. Your underwear comes off soon after and both garments are abandoned on the floor.

Cautiously, she beckons you forward. You comply, lowering yourself into her lap. Your cunt brushes against the rough denim of her jeans and you refrain from groaning. An arm hooks low around your hips while her dominant hand worms itself between your legs. Her digits find the wet slick of your pussy and she glances up at you.

You nod.

She plunges two fingers inside of you. Your walls immediately adjust to the intrusion, stretching deliciously. The moan escapes your lips and you teeter in Shane's lap. Your lips meet the junction of Shane's neck and you bite down roughly. Smoothing the newly forming bruise with your tongue, you sneer at the way Shane hisses.

"Faster."

She adjusts her wrist and immediately hastens her pace. Her fingers are like a piston, thrusting in and out. They curl against the spongy wall of your pussy and you throw your head back, breath shaky. Your hips swivel in rhythm with her thrusts, taking every ounce of pleasure Shane willingly gave.

The edges of your vision begin to darken as you feel the heel of Shane's hand rub against your clit. You gasp, rutting aggressively into her touch as she continues fingerfucking you. Your hands thread themselves in her hair, pulling down to expose the curve of her neck. Moaning, you leave a trail of hickeys down her throat, smirking at the way her face contorts in painful pleasure. She curls her fingers inside of you at just the right angle and you finally cum with a shout.

Your body goes rigid as your knees buckle into her sides. Bobbing on Shane's fingers, you don't stop until the high of your orgasm subsides and reality comes crashing down around you. Swiftly, you pull yourself off of Shane's lap before disappearing into the bathroom to clean yourself up. You return a few minutes later, sliding your underwear and pants back on.

Shane is still glued to her chair. Her fingers are still coated in your slick and she has not made the effort to wipe them off yet. She stares at you numbly and you begin to walk towards the front door.

"I'll be gone by the end of the week, Shane. Then you can fuck whomever else you want in here."

There will be no next time. There are no more feelings to talk about. It was just about the sex.

Shane could no longer be your friend.

[badly-drawn-pigeon]

We've all heard about the Curse of Hatred or the curse of eternal conflict between Asura and Indra, but what is really slept on is the Curse of Monogamy that seems to affect the entire Naruto world without anyone noticing. I'm not even talking about the lack of poly relationships, it's much more than that.

When it comes to canonically confirmed romantic interests, it seems to be a rule in Naruto that if you fall in love with one person, you are cursed not to ever end up in a relationship with anyone else for your whole life. Even if your love interest dies, you are cursed to stay single forever, even if it means being alone for decades. You want examples? I give examples.

Obito Uchiha

Tsunade

Itachi Uchiha

Konan

Kurenai Yuhi

Hiruzen Sarutobi

Mito Uzumaki

Rasa

Jiraiya gets a honorable mention because his love interest didn't die but his feelings were largely unrequited so he died forever single

Hell, this goes so far that The Last movie (afaik, I didn't watch it) retcons Naruto to never have really been in love with Sakura and states that he confused attraction towards her with his drive towards rivalry with Sasuke.

The only character who ever managed to somewhat escape the Curse of Monogamy is Ino Yamanaka, but it's only because Sai fulfills the role of a "we have Sasuke at home" for a large part of the narrative.

[middlingmay]

Marge is Gale's Beard AU

I don't know what happened, but this was supposed to be a funny cute little scene of Bucky stumbling across Marge getting a little frisky with another guy, not knowing she's not actually Gale's girlfriend, and promptly losing his shit. Like 1K words, max

BUT OVER 6000 WORDS LATER AND HERE WE ARE.

I need to be stopped, jesus fucking christ.

Anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: violence, blood. Also period-typical attitudes towards monogamy.

Also, John doesn't look to good for part of this fic, but he is genuinely apologetic, and comes out the other side the John we all know and love. He's just going through some things!

Read under the cut!

Ostensibly, this little get together was a send off for Bucky who was being shipped off to Thorpe Abbotts in England thanks to his new and entirely unwanted position as Air Executive. But it was also a chance for the rest of the fellas to enjoy one more night of fun and frivolity with their loved ones before they left the States in a few weeks, some of them for the very first time. Maybe some of them for the last.

And for Buck, that meant none other than Marge.

They had been friends since they were kids. She was the first and remained the only girl he had ever brought home to his mother, and even father was on his best behaviour whenever she was around. Such was the power of Marjorie Spencer.

She was also the first and only girl he had ever kissed. They were teenagers, and even if Gale wasn’t as half-wild as his classmates about all the pretty girls, he was still a hormonal boy and one night, when he walked her home, he took her little face in his big hands and kissed her.

She’d pulled back frowning. “Gale. I don’t have brothers, but if I did I reckon that’s what it’d feel like to kiss ‘em.”

She wasn’t wrong. He’d heard the nasty locker room talk about boys sporting half a woody just at kissin’ a girl, and Gale hadn’t felt so much as a flicker.

Then, some while later, he’d felt the full fury of those teenage hormones when James ‘Jett’ Granger, school football star, had bowled him over and landed on top of him on the floor with a thud.

Jett had laughed and apologised and hauled Gale, who was not dainty by any stretch of the imagination, up like he was nothing with an apology on his lips. Like he hadn’t just upended Gale’s entire world.

When he told Marge, she’d cackled and leered like a locker room boy and said, “Did you…” and stuck her tongue between her teeth.

Gale spluttered and coughed on his spit and his blood pounded in his ears. But he couldn’t deny it, even as he scolded, “Marjorie Spencer!”

But once she got over her glee and teasing, she saw Gale work his lip like a well done steak and softened. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you.”

Gale scoffed. “We both know you’re the only one round here who thinks like that.”

Even Marge couldn’t stubborn her way out of that cold hard fact.

“Alright then,” she said with a set to her jaw. “Then you’ll be my fella, far as anyone knows. Least until you find one of your own.”

Gale’s heart flooded his body with warmth and he must have looked at Marge like she was a saint. “I can’t do that, Marge. What if you find a guy you really want to be your fella?”

But Marge looked highly sceptical. “Round here? You’re all I got.”

He smiled at the sentiment but he still wore worry on his brow and Marge darted forward to kiss at least a bit of it away. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

And they never had. Right up until Gale enlisted and was due to be shipped off to basic training, Marge kept assuring him every boy that came around was a knucklehead, and as little as Gale even let himself do so much as look, he couldn’t say he disagreed with her.

The night before he left, after an awkward near silent dinner with his folks that his mother had insisted on, he and Marge had laid a blanket out on an empty field and looked at the starts.

“I still can’t believe you’re going,” she said, voice thick.

Gale couldn’t say ‘sorry’, couldn’t say he wished he wasn’t going, because he wasn’t no liar. He’d wanted to be a pilot since he was a boy and he couldn’t wait to get started.

“I’m going to miss you like crazy.” But that there, that was the truth.

Marge snorted, true and ugly. “Yeah, right. You’re going to be surrounded by all the cute boys and I’m stuck here with the cream of the Caspar crop.”

Gale kicked her shoe. “Oh, yeah. No lookin’. No touchin’. Not unless I wanna come home with a crack in my skull and a blue ticket in my first. At the least.”

Because Gale wasn’t scared of the military. He wasn’t scared of leaving home or being surrounded by strangers. He wasn’t scared at the possibility of having to head into a fight. But being found out? That petrified him.

Marge clutched his hand with all the strength she possessed. “I’ll write you,” she vowed. “Every day if I have to. I’ll spritz the letters with perfume and kiss them and everything. No one will know, I promise.”

Marge’s promises were better than the word of God.

Until he met John Egan.

The long-limbed, freckled, moustached, larger and louder than life man had thrown himself into Gale’s life with very little input from the man himself. He given him his name and kept by his side, like he’d adopted a dog.

Despite himself, Gale had actively tried to dislike John, or Bucky, at first. He put up a cold front to his overt friendliness; threw off his wandering hands possessed with so much affection that he just couldn’t keep them still. Gale refused every single invitation for as long as he could. And yet.

Gale found himself looking for Bucky in whenever he entered a room. He listened carefully whenever he spoke during briefings, and chiming in until they were bouncing ideas of off each other, unaware of the secret smiles of their superior officers. When Gale struggled to sleep, he found himself asking Bucky any question he could think of just to hear him rattle on until he was finally lulled to rest.

He stopped rejecting and started anticipating John’s touch, even positioning himself so as to welcome it, necessitate it; an arm over the back of a chair set close to his; a tiny gap in a doorway or corridor that required a gentle touch to a guy’s waist or his back. And soon Bucky became one of the only men Gale ever touched comfortably beyond a squeeze of the shoulder or a pat on the arm.

One of the other boys had tried once, to swing an arm over Gale’s shoulder. Whether it was because he saw Bucky do it and wanted to emulate the two men so respected by the others, he wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t done it again. The less said about it, the better.

Marge noticed, of course.

He hadn’t been aware of how much Bucky had filtered into his letters, and Marge’s questions had seemed innocent at first. And Gale had been all to happy for the outlet. Then in one letter she had scribbled:

He sounds like a scream, Gale. I’m glad you’ve made such a fast friend. I can't wait to meet him, and make sure he’s good enough for my fella. Can’t have you taking up with a no good kinda man who’s just going to lead you into trouble.

He knew Marge better than he knew himself. He could read between the lines: make sure he’s no bigot before you go getting attached.

Which brought them to that night at the bar. The first thing John had done on being introduced to Marge was to sweep her off for a dance.

Springing away with Gale’s girl in tow, Bucky hollered over his shoulder, “I gotta make sure poor Marge gets to dance with someone, tonight, Buck!”

The boys had all jeered and Marge swatted John’s chest playfully, but soon she was just as swept up in the force of him as they all were, and laughed with flushed cheeks the whole time.

It warmed something healing in his heart to see the two people closest to him in the world get on like a house on fire.

At one point, when Bucky went to the bar, Marge slumped into his side.

“Oh, Gale. You never stood a chance against him, did you?”

Not a snowflake’s in hell.

But before Gale could get too despondent about that, she continued. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a good man. I think he- I think you’re safe with him. Yeah?”

Gale nodded. Of course he was. It was Bucky.

Then she got that impish look on her face. “So I say, look your fill.”

Gale shushed her and looked around to see if anyone was paying closer attention than they should’ve. No one was, thankfully, and when his heart rate returned to normal, he remembered he could tease right back.

“Well," he said coyly into her ear, “speaking of looking your fill, that black-haired fella at the corner table at the back has been throwing you looks all night.”

Marge pretended to look unaffected and Gale leaned in even closer. “Don’t think I didn’t see you lookin’ back.”

Marge’s vicious little elbow checked his ribs just as Bucky came back with their drinks.

“Thank you, John,” she said primly. “But I have to visit the powder room.”

John toasted her off and looked at Buck, bemused. “Something I said?”

Gale nearly laughed. “Naw. She just likes to keep me in line.”

John shook his head. “And ain’t that a crying shame. I’m surprised she hasn’t upbraided me for trying to undo all her hard work.”

Later, Gale would blame the giddiness that came from John’s proximity for what he said next. “I only gotta behave with her. You can get me as riled up as you like.”

John inhaled too much of his drink and coughed until there were tears in his eyes. Gale flushed to his ears and kicked him under the table.

Giggling and breathless, John kicked him right back even harder. “Noted.”

“Ask Major Cleven! He’s great at calculations.”

“Sir? Sir!”

A few boys in the ground crew called Buck over, and John waved him off good naturedly. “Go awe the masses, Buck. I need a smoke anyway.”

It look less than five minutes for Marge to come barrelling towards him, a wild and furious and worried look him her eye.

“Gale, It’s John! You gotta get John!”

*

There was a door at the back of the bar that led to the dead end of an alley outside. When he just wanted a quiet smoke in the peace of the evening, John liked to head out there instead of the front with everyone else, where he could easily while away the better part of an hour talking to all and sundry.

And he was enjoying spending his evening Buck. And Marge.

She was a sweet little spitfire. She had the looks of spun glass and high class, but even after spending nothing more than a handful of hours with her, Bucky could tell she was no wall flower, no meek dame. And John didn’t think about it too closely, but he liked that the girl who Gale loved so much wasn’t so different from himself.

Where John liked the think of him and Buck as sides of the same coin - dark and light; steady and gregarious; push and pull - Marge and Buck were one of a kind, like the couples on the movie posters. Their love felt inevitable.

And, as John was learning about himself, he was apparently a possessive man, because between him and the cigarette in his mouth, he could acknowledge the bitter flash of jealousy he got when he looked at them too long.

He pushed open the back door, a box of matches in hand, and looked up on hearing two frightened gasps.

Marge. Her eyes were so wide, there was more white than blue. Her hair was a mess, clutched in the meaty hand of another man. A man who’s face was too close to the crook of her neck.

And both of them wore such fear in their eyes.

John’s cigarette finally gave up its precarious balance on John’s gaping lips and tumbled to the floor. The box of matches dove after it.

“John.” It was a tiny, panicked sound.

And it snapped John back to attention. With two strides of his long legs he had Marge tucked behind him and slammed the man into the brick wall of the alley hard, and smiled ugly with all teeth when he heard the meaty thunk of his head hit the wall.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” John snarled in the man’s face, low and incandescent with rage he didn’t even know how to begin to unleash.

“John-” Marge tugged at his back, urgent.

“Taking advantage of a girl after a few drinks-”

“No, John-!”

He grabbed two fistfuls of the guy’s shirt and rattled him until he heard teeth clack. “A girl who’s taken. By your superior officer!”

“It’s not like that!” Marge yanked at John’s ear and he was forced to turn away from the man, but he didn’t relinquish him.

He calmed himself as much as he could. “Marge. Are you alright?”

But Marge looked painfully, worryingly exacerbated. “For God’s sake, John! It’s not what it looks like!”

“It looked like he was forcing himself on ya!”

But the Marge clutching at his lapels didn’t look scared, not of the man behind him, anyway. She had a little bit of fear when she looked at him though, and John didn’t like that at all.

It’s not what it looks like.

And if it looked like she was forced…

John’s heart broke for Gale, before the red pricks of anger started to twitch at his muscles.

“Oh. It’s like that, huh?”

“No!”

“Are you with Gale or aren’t you?!”

Marge swallowed something down and almost reluctantly said, “Yes.”

The boy chose the wrong moment to pluck at the reserves of his bravado.

“There’s no harm, Major,” he panted. “It was just some harmless fun. It didn’t mean nothing. We all know Cleven’s too much of a gentleman-”

John snapped his fist into the man’s jaw and followed through. The wall was the only thing that kept him standing. So John pulled him upright and slammed a punch into the side of his face and he went tumbling down.

John followed him, straddling him as he grabbed a handful of the guy’s jacket. Blood was already smeared over his mouth and John rained down hell and hit his nose with a crack and blood came pouring outta that too.

He switched his grip to the guy’s hair to keep the lolling head upright as he leaned down and growled into his ear. “You think you’re going to make a fool out of either one of them, you got another thing coming.”

He pulled back to land one last hit, a good one to drive his point home, when a solid weight barrelled into him from behind, wrapped an arm around his waist and hauled him into the air. John spun around swinging, but another arm got a stranglehold around the back of his neck and he was wrapped up painfully tight and too close to do anything.

And the scent of Buck’s cologne penetrated his senses and the fight left him.

Because fuck. How was he going to explain this? How was he going to tell Buck he’d caught his woman in the arms of another man? Should he even tell him? If it was Bucky, he’d wanna know, but maybe if he spoke to Marge and she promised it was a drunken mistake (God knows he’d had plenty of those), and it would never happen again, he wouldn’t have to tank Buck’s perfect love story.

“John!” Buck shook him hard enough that Bucky knew he tried to get his attention more than once. “The heck were you thinking?! You outta your goddamn mind?!”

Bucky heard shuffling behind him and he managed to turn just enough in Buck’s unforgiving grip to see the man being led inside by some of their boys, who shot furtive, concerned glances at their Majors.

Then there was Marge, hanging back and looking at Buck with something awfully sorry. He felt Buck nod at her and she went to head back inside, but not before sending Bucky a scathing look and a roll of her eyes.

Now there was nothing to spare him from Buck.

Only now did Buck loosen his grip and let Bucky back a step, and only a step.

“You have done some damn foolish things since I met you, Bucky. But fightin’ with a subordinate?!”

“You don’t understand-” and Buck really wasn’t sure he wanted him to.

“I understand plenty. Marge told me everything.”

Buck couldn’t help but scoff. “Oh? And what did Marge say?”

“That you caught her neckin’ with some guy and went off the damn rails!”

Buck was shocked stupid. Not just that Marge had told the truth, but that Buck seemed more pissed at him that he was at her.

“Then why are you riding me for?! I was defending you - you should be thanking me!”

Buck tensed his jaw so hard, Bucky expected to hear a crack. “Thanking you? For nearly bringing down my whole house of cards?!”

By now Bucky felt he was missing some vital information, and he couldn’t think straight with Buck so close to him, radiating fury. He shrugged off Buck’s hands and shook his head.

“Hold on, hold on,” he held up his palms. “You’re pissed at me for socking the guy making it with your girl behind your back?”

Buck sighed harsh and annoyed like Bucky was the most exasperating thing in the world and Bucky was getting more offended by the second.

“No, y’dummy!”

“Dummy?”

“I’m mad because if Marge hadn’t kept her head and got me before anyone else saw you fighting, everyone might have found out she ain’t actually my girl!”

“I - what?!”

Buck gave a frustrated groan that didn’t quite get out of his throat and prayed for patience. And maybe a little bravery. He trusted John, vexing as he could me. But sometimes fear was instinctual. But he couldn’t let Bucky go on thinking he saw what he thought he saw. But Christ if the other man didn’t make it difficult.

“But - you and Marge - since high school. You said-”

“Well, I lied. Kind of.”

“Kind of? You kind of lied?”

Bucky huffed. “We’ve been tellin’ people we’ve been together since high school. So no one would know…about me…” he trailed off meaningfully.

For all but Bucky, apparently. “Know what?”

“That I…that…” God, why couldn’t he just say it? Bucky may be as straight as they come, but he wasn’t that kind of guy, and he was Buck's best friend to boot. He choked down his frustrations and finally managed to spit out, “That…Marge ain’t the only one who likes looking at cute boys.”

Buck blushed as he said it. He sounded like a stupid teenager. But Bucky just stuttered to a stop and gawped at him. Buck watched his mouth flap, trying and failing to utter a sound, like it too couldn’t believe John Egan had finally been rendered silent.

“I - you’re-?”

“Gay? Queer? A big ol’ blue ticket? Yeah.”

What he certainly hadn’t been expecting was for Bucky to near drop to his knees in a mix of relief and panic.

“Haah-fuck, Gale," John grimaced, breathing heavy over his knees, which looked to be the only thing supporting his weight. "They're gonna court martial me in the morning. Don’t get me wrong - I’m glad I didn’t have to break your heart, tellin’ you Marge was stepping out on you, but fuck. I punched out a subordinate. Fuck.”

Side-stepping the unintentional lie in what John said, Buck, mightily and heroically refrained from rolling his eyes. “Don't get hysterical, Bucky. It don't become you. Relax, I'll fix it.”

And really, the sheer force of the scepticism on Bucky's face was down right insulting.

“Yeah? And how you gonna do that?”

Buck's brain worked furiously for an excuse - the reason’s why men hit other men over women that weren’t jealousy. Protection being the main one, but he didn’t want to put Marge in the frame at all if possible. Then he remembered a story Bucky told him once about a boy that had taken a shine to Bucky’s much younger sister, and Bucky had followed him home one day after his sister had come home cryin' with red bruises round her wrists.

“You ain't gonna like it.”

“Solid start.”

Buck nearly cuffed him round the ear like an insolent, child. “Hush. Now, you uh, ever planning on introducing your sisters to the boys?”

Bucky balked. “Absolutely not. What does that-”

“Listen. That man inside, bleeding - he looked a lot like a fella who left your sister a little worse for wear. Let the boys take that however they see fit.”

“The hell you tryna say about my sister?!”

“Nothing, idjit! Listen!”

Bucky shut his trap with visible effort.

“He looked almost exactly like that man, and when you saw him near Marge - near her and nothing else, you understand? You lost it. Alright? You’d had too much to drink, you weren’t thinking clear, and you were seeing you baby sister, not Marge. Right?”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and the gesture was so typically Gale’s that it stole his breath to see it on the other man.

But he had to press on. “Right?”

Bucky capitulated. “Alright, alright. But Jeannie ever finds out about this, we’re both dead.”

Buck eyed Bucky then, waiting for the other show to fall. “Is that all you gotta say to me?”

Bucky's face fell and cleared in realisation and Buck's stomach bubbled with a flare of anxiety about what he might say.

“Ah, fuck. Sorry, yeah. I’ve got to apologise to Marge, don’t I?”

Buck’s eye twitched, because Bucky had to be playing so damn dumb on purpose.

But, he wasn’t wrong.

“Well, yeah. She liked that boy. And you gon’ scared him off.”

Bucky scoffed though, waving a dismissive hand. “If you’re her fake fella, Buck. Marge has got to raise her standards for her real one. Don’t worry, I’ll find her a nice guy; a real prince to your pauper, so to speak.”

“That is not how the story goes.”

But then something occurred to Buck. He’d seen Bucky charm plenty of women, a lot of them blondes. Now that Bucky knew Marge was technically single…

“You mean someone like you?”

Bucky smirked and stepped toe to toe with Buck. He let his large hands smooth out the wrinkles Buck had worked into his own uniform wrangling Bucky earlier. His fingers slipped to his crooked tie and slowly knotted it back into place.

“You callin’ me a prince, Buck Cleven?”

Buck wanted to brush it off, to turn it into a joke, say anything to break the tension. But his tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth. All his brain could process was the proximity of Bucky, the smell of Bucky, and heat of his fingers at Buck’s collar.

Bucky leaned closer, like a he had a secret to share. “That make you my princess?”

And that should not have crackled a hot, thrilling tremor to life that sent him rocking infinitesimally closer to Bucky, a gasp somehow escaping the clutch his teeth had on his lips.

Bucky’s eyes darkened, but before he could say or do anything, the backdoor to the pub opened again and Marge’s golden head popped out.

“If you two are quite done?” she sounded like a teacher scolding the class clowns. “I am fending off almost an entire bomb group in there by myself and they’re like a pack of wild dogs. Some help, if you’d be so kind.”

Buck coughed and stepped back and trotted dutifully to Marge’s side. “Sorry, darlin’,” he said and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

Bucky was left with Marjorie Spencer staring at him, hands on her hips.

“Well?” she said expectantly.

Sheepishly, Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “In my defence, you could do better?”

He saw murder in her eyes and quickly backtracked. Now was not the time for jokes. Evidently Marge did not appreciate them the way Buck did.

Bucky dropped his arms by his sides and looked her in the eye. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that, no matter what I thought. I’m not - God, Marge, I’m not a violent man. Bit of a motor mouth sure, and I’ll stand up for any of my boys, but I don’t usually…”

Marge let him stew in the silence for a bit. But eventually, “No you shouldn’t have. I might be thankful that Gale has you looking out for him, but you can’t be such a hot head, John Egan. I don’t appreciate it and Gale don’t like it.”

Gently, Bucky took one of Marge’s hands, tiny in one of his, and raised it to his lips to place a sorry kiss there with a rueful smile “I will never lay hands on someone like that again, unless it's for a very good reason. I promise. But Buck’s pretty good at keeping me in check.”

Marge blessed him with a knowing smile. “I’m sure he is.”

And then Bucky was back in full force. “But seriously, Marge, you’ve got to at least date sideways. You can’t date down. Anyone less than Buck ain’t good enough for you.”

She rolled her eyes and pointed him back inside, letting him offer his arm. “Well when you find him, you let me know. Because I’m shit outta luck.”

They re-entered the pub laughing and any remaining tension in the room seemed to release. As Bucky took Marge for another spin round the dancefloor, he felt Buck’s eyes on them and risked a glance. And what a risk. Gale stared, blue eyes pinned on him over the smooth rim of his glass, tracking Bucky’s every move and licking the moisture off his lips.

Bucky threw him a wink and mouthed, Later, princess.

*

Colonel Huglin did not appreciate having to consider disciplinary action at six am. Yet having a man like Major John Egan under his command meant Huglin’s dreams didn’t count for much.

He watched this respected, no, revered man stand before him, clasp and unclasp his hands, purse his lips, and shift his legs like he was fighting the urge to rock on his heels. Like a misbehaving school boy. If Huglin had never met him, and someone had asked him to pick out the best pilot (on par with Major Cleven), the quickest thinker, an excellent strategist and the man almost single-handedly responsible for morale on base, Huglin wouldn't even have spared John a glance.

And yet.

“I haven’t seen him yet, but I’d bet my commission that the young fella you thrashed good and sound yesterday looks real pretty this morning.”

John grimaced. And, surprisingly enough it was not the wince of one awaiting an unwanted scolding, but one that actually looked like regret. John, who never ever failed to look a man in the eye, looked down at his shoes, lips twisting, and just nodded.

Major Cleven had come to him even earlier, at 5.20am, before Huglin had even had his coffee, and filled him in on what happened last night.

“You know Major Egan, Sir. I know you don’t always see eye to eye but he’s not a violent man, not like that. But,” and Gale and leaned forward in his chair, concern creasing his brow and wringing his hands together, “his sister, before he left, she had some…awful kind of trouble. With a fella. That looked just like the man from last night, John said. You know how much he looks after the men, and he loves his sisters. It drives him crazy he’s not there to look after ‘em with their dad not being around anymore… Sorry Sir, I’m rambling.” He was, and it was unlike Cleven who was a man of few words. Surely, a testament to his worry over his friend and brother-in-arms. “I just mean to say, John thought - John saw -"

And Huglin had cut Cleven off with a wave of his hand. He understood. He’d seen countless men wide eyed, crying or screaming at something or someone who wasn’t really there. It didn’t mean Egan could get entirely off the hook, but he understood.

“You have anything to say for yourself?”

“Can I see him?”

Huglin hadn't been expecting that. “What?”

“The…guy. God I don’t even know his name. But I’d like to apologise, if he’ll let me. He deserves that at least, and I’d like to settle it before I go.”

He wasn’t due to fly to Thorpe Abbots until mid-morning. There was plenty of time. “Evans. Airman First Class Evans. And I’ll ask his superior officer and let you know.”

Bucky released a breath and nodded, more to himself, Huglin thought, before he squared his shoulders at the Colonel.

“I just want to apologise, Sir. What I did yesterday was not becoming of a Major of the US Airforce. I know that. It’s not the kind of man I am or how I want my men to see me. I’m…” John swallowed. “I embarrassed the uniform. And I hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Huglin needed a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t stupid. He knew part of the reason the men admired Egan so was because he never backed down from the higher ups, always spoke his mind and said his piece - but Huglin couldn’t think of one time it wasn’t on their behalf. To get them what they needed or give them the best odds, or even distract them on days the base just became too heavy. But this was a side of John that Huglin had never seen: the human man underneath the military man.

And Huglin had sisters, too. He could empathise.

“I’m glad to hear that, Major. Normally, there’d be a disciplinary hearing, and we’d decide what was to be done with you.”

John bit his cheek but nodded, accepting.

“But, I think in this case, I can smooth things over. If, you apologise to Evans and his CO, and goddamn cool it on the liquor, John. I mean it. There might even be a mandatory anger management session with the doc in your future, and if so I won't hear a damn single word of complaint from you, understood?”

John reared back looking stunned, and Huglin let himself enjoy it. “Don’t look so surprised. Your buddy Cleven was by here and told me everything. And be glad he did. Otherwise I’d be tempted to ground you the rest of this damn war.”

John said nothing.

“Alright, get out of here. You’ve got a trip to prepare for. And an apology, too.”

“Yes, sir,. John turned smartly on his heels and headed for the door.

When he reached the jam, Huglin called out,. "And John? Give my best wishes to your sister, will you? If they need anything, you let me know.”

John made a funny noise in his throat and nodded before he all but fled the room.

Buck was waiting for him outside. He leapt to his feet when he saw Bucky emerge looking frazzled.

“Well? How’d it go?”

Bucky fell into step next to him, and out of the corner of his mouth said, “What on earth did you tell Huglin? Because whatever it was, I almost got out of there scot-free.”

And Buck didn't fail to notice that Bucky didn’t sound happy about it. He new in the sober light of day, and with the clarity sleep brings, John would be beating himself up something fierce for attacking that boy. Which he should, by rights, but John did take self-flagellation to extremes sometimes. Gale wondered if it was the Catholic in him, lapsed or not.

“You’re still Air Exec?”

“Yeah?”

Buck nudged him. “Sounds like a punishment to me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and came to a halt at the mouth of the building, staring out onto the tarmac.

“I want to apologise to the boys,” he said, hands on his hips and head hanging low. “I just, can’t stop thinking about them seeing me like that. I don’t…”

Standing where they were, Buck couldn't do much but clasp his shoulder and lean down to look Bucky in the eye. “Then let’s go find ‘em.”

The boys, as it turned out, were just finishing getting dressed. They didn’t notice the Majors enter the bunk house at first.

“-wonder what happened?”

“None of your business, that’s what happened,” said DeMarco.

“It shouldn’t have happened.” Brady. Bucky flinched.

“Ay,” Curtis dove into the conversation. “You don’t know shit. If he got a bit banged up, then he deserved it. Don’t go thinking anything else.”

And despite himself, Bucky let himself crack a smile at Curt’s friendship and loyalty.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Brady insisted, stubborn and louder. “John’s our leader. He’s a Major. I’m his co-pilot for crying out loud. He should be setting an example, and starting bar fights isn’t it. I don’t know about you, but I want to head into war with the John Egan who has your back, and keeps his head in the air so good he solves problems before half the crew even notice they’re there. Not the John who’ll flip at a switch. I don’t like that John.”

Several of the boys protested and booed Brady and started yelling and cursing, and they knew a more serious argument was about the break out with Brady bearing the brunt of it if they didn’t step in.

Buck let Bucky go when he stepped further into the room.

“Brady’s right,” he called, and the men snapped to attention and Brady dropped the shoe he’d been polishing and stumbled to his feet.

Buck walked up steady behind Bucky, a solid presence at his shoulder. “At ease, gentlemen.”

Bucky stood tall and true. “Last night, I acted in a way that was unfit for a man of the US Airforce, rank be damned. It should never have happened, and it will never happen again. I just wanted you to know that.” He surveyed the boys and they looked on silent. “We all make mistakes, and things get heated sometimes. This one is my mistake, and I’ll own that. So don’t you boys go thinking that starting fights with your fellow airmen to blow of some steam is acceptable. It’s not. You can all learn that lesson from me. That’s part of my job - teaching you how to avoid making the same mistakes I have.”

And in true Bucky fashion he flipped the solemn mood of the room with a switch and a turn of his lips and he gave them a sincere Bucky grin.

“Like that time I wandered into the Colonel’s quarters by mistake and got stuck on latrine duty for a week.” The boys relaxed into their laughter. “Remember that?” He pointed at Curt. “You made me sleep out in that abandoned storage hut until I was done.”

“You stank!”

“Or that time I yanked Ham back from the shaky step heading into the mess hall?”

Ham howled from his bunk. “Because you’d tripped a week or so before it, and sent your scrambled eggs all down a Red Cross dame. That handprint on your cheek didn’t disappear for a whole day!”

Buck just stood back and marvelled at Bucky's ability to work a room.

“So if me or Buck here ain’t around to give you the benefit of our experience,” he reached out and clasped the back of Brady’s head and scrubbed it playfully, “be damn sure you listen to Brady. Best co-pilot there is.”

The men all hollered and scrambled to rib at Brady, rubbing his head like Bucky did or punching him playfully in the arm or chucking his chin.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “Because we’re the 100th. The best damn bomb squad there is. And we’ll damn well act like it. Do you hear me?”

“Yes sir!”

Bucky shouted louder. “I said do you hear me?!”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

“Because who are we?!”

“The 100th!”

“Who are we?!!”

“THE 100TH!”

“Then get your gear on, get out there, and show ‘em how it’s done!”

Making a thunderous racket, the boys gathered the last of their things and rushed out the door, Brady the last of the group, shooting Bucky a small, pleased, and proud smile before he disappeared.

The silence they left behind was a stark contrast. Until Buck couldn’t take it anymore.

He snorted and cackled and John threw his hands in the air. “Really, Buck?”

Buck cleared his throat and got himself under control. Adopting the highest voice he could, in something that could barely pass as Bucky's odd not-quite Wisconsin accent, he teased him, “My name’s John Egan, and I’m a terrible leader on the ground!”

Bucky shoved him hard, but yanked him back with a firm arm around his bicep and pulled him in close, so the buckles of their belts gave a soft clack in greeting.

They were alone.

“I’ll be flying at at 10.30 sharp,” Bucky mumbled up close.

Buck nodded. “I know. I’ll see you off, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Mm, with a handshake in front of the boys.”

Buck gave him a firm look. “Of course. Don’t you go thinking otherwise.”

Bucky smiled and leaned in closer, and Buck was surprised that he even could. “But the boys aren’t here, now.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re lookin’ for, huh? A little send of?”

Bucky's hands bravely slipped down to his waist and squeezed, and Buck resolutely did not think about how his waist fit all nice in John’s stupidly large hands. He was not a small man - he was tall; he worked hard all his life, and despite a less than stellar childhood, always had enough to eat. But John was just so damn big.

“Just a kiss, Buck. For luck. To tide me over till you get over the pond.”

Buck grinned, a rare one showing his teeth and leaned in until he felt the softness of Bucky's lips skim the edges of his own. He kept it there, just not quite touching until he heard Bucky's breath hitch and his hands tried their hardest not to wander some more.

And against that mouth he’d dreamed about in his sleep, he’d fantasised about in his waking hours, he murmured, playful and sweet, “No.”

He turned sharp in his heels and escaped Bucky's grasp and threw a pleased grin over his shoulder at Bucky gaping in his wake.

“Buck!”

“You’ll just have to wait for me, Johnny!” And Gale ducked out of the bunk house and left Bucky behind, to attend his duties.

And John stood there wondering what on earth he was in for, taking up with a tease like Buck Cleven. But he couldn’t wait to find out.

[restinslices]

I would love to request a fic of Ares x fem reader please? Maybe based of your post of being Ares favorite mortal lover and defending her or whatever idea you may have?

I think you and someone else requested this so COME GET YA’LL JUICE.

I made this sadder than it needed to be but it’s an illness at this point. Warning for a down bad Ares. Like, OOC type of down bad

Gods are typically very predictable when it comes to love.

It's usually temporary love and honestly a mortal is lucky if it lasts more than a month. They get together, have a baby then the god moves on before the baby is even born. It sounds heartless because it is, but that's just how it was when you were immortal. You got bored very quickly and chasing after mortals gave you something to do when life got too quiet.

That's what typically happens.

Sometimes though, the gods find very special mortals.

For Hermes, it was May. For Poseidon, it was Sally. For Ares, it was you.

Ares constantly watched over you and your child, even if you never knew. He couldn't be with you and he knew this, but that didn't mean he couldn't make sure you were ok and help out occasionally. Sometimes it'd be something as small as leaving you gifts to cheer you up, and sometimes it'd be something as big as delivering “bad luck” to your boss when he was being rude.

So imagine how upset he got when he watched your new partner continue to mistreat you.

Zeus made himself very clear.

Absolutely DO NOT commit any acts of violence against a particular mortal named Trent.

Ares thought about listening. Then Ares thought about the fact that he was willing to allow a war to happen between Zeus, Hades and Poseidon and he decided that since he's done a lot worse, a few felonies wouldn't be so bad in the grand scheme of things.

~~

The arguing made Ares pause before he could knock.

He heard your voice. “In my bed Trent?! Are you serious?!”.

The male groaned in annoyance, “If you can't accept that relationships have hiccups then maybe you don't actually care for me! I'll leave you alone right now if that's what you want! It's just fuck me, right?! After all I do?!”.

“What do you do?!”.

“I told you I had demons I was fighting!”

“Is the demon monogamy?”

He huffed and he swung the door open while going on and on about the so called demons he was fighting that you wouldn't understand, and if Ares had Hades powers, he'd send him some actual demons to worry about.

His eyes landed on Ares, “who are you?”.

You came into view right behind Trent and your eyes widened.

It was strange. Ares hardly paid attention to little details when it came to someone's appearance. After a while his eyes skimmed over people, and even if a mortal managed to catch his attention, he usually forgot what they looked like before the week ended. You were different though and if this is what Poseidon and Hermes felt then he understood why it was so hard for them to let their mortals go.

He wasn't necessarily an artistic guy but he could pick out the specific shade of your eyes, even if it was the most basic eye color. He memorized the shape of your hair and its color. He memorized certain mannerisms or habits you had, no matter how small. If someone blindfolded him, he was sure he'd still be able to find you just by hearing your laughter. He'd pat the area around him as he walk towards you and once he felt your hand in his, he'd know he was home. And sure, there was a mortal out there that had the same texture on their fingertips but he didn't care about them. He cared about you and even if you thought you weren't special, he would strongly disagree. Mortals didn't stay in his mind. You did. That meant something.

But Trent didn't seem to understand how special you were. He didn't understand that you were doing him a service just by standing near him and it made him angrier than he expected.

“This is Ares”, you said. It was embarrassing for him to admit how much he loved how his name sounded on your tongue, so he never admitted it. At least not out loud.

“Like the Zodiac Aries?”. He was going to correct him and make several snarky comments but you spoke before him.

“A-R-E-S. Ares. Like the God of War. Spirit of Battle. Mars for the Romans” you explained and the smirk that formed on his face further proved how down bad he was for you. The shit was embarrassing.

“I'm the father of her child” Ares added and Trent did not look pleased. He looked back and forth between the two of you and scoffed.

“You've been cheating on me, haven't you?”. He didn't even give you a chance to respond. “You're on my ass about what I did but you've already been whoring around. Just like I fucking thought”

“My kid is eight” you said simply. Ares hated that although you kept stepping back, he kept moving towards you. His shoulders were tall and proud, like he was trying to intimidate you into admitting something that wasn't true.

“I bet you're still sleeping with him or any other man that looks at you! I should've known better than to dedicate myself to a single mother. You're all just cheap sl-” his sentence was stopped abruptly when Ares grabbed onto his shoulder. At first Ares didn't realize how hard he was squeezing his shoulder, but once he noticed the sounds coming out of his mouth and saw his pathetic attempts to pry his hand off of him, Ares squeezed harder.

“She missed a very crucial part” his hand squeezed harder still and he pushed down, making the man hit his knees on the ground hard. “Ares, God of War. Spirit of Battle. Protector of Mistreated Women”, he glanced at you then looked back down at the man clenching his shoulder under him. “Have you been mistreating this woman?”.

Trent looked at you but all that did was fuel Ares’ with more rage. The nerve to treat you so cruelly for months then look to you for help. He yanked his shoulder towards him, earning a shout from him. “Don't look at her. Look at me”.

You placed your hand over his, “let him go”. You spoke softly as if you cared for this speck of dirt that probably wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire. Why? Why do this for him when there are millions of other men out there you could be with? Men that would treat you 100x better than Trent had. Men that would shower you with the praises you deserve and stand by you loyally and ask about your day and do whatever other bullshit mortals do that Ares would do with you if he weren't a god.

Trent had you but he didn't deserve you. Area didn't have you but he deserved you. The idea of Ares deserving something instead of just being given it was strange and foreign and even though gods couldn't get headaches, this is the closest he's felt to it.

“Let him go” you repeated slowly.

“I should get somewhere high before I do”.

“Hilarious” you said, although he wasn't joking. “You're gonna hurt him”. That was the plan. “I'm being serious, Ares. Let him go”.

“And then?”

“Then you leave”. But he stays? You were willing to let this man get away with all he's done within your months of dating and shoo the father of your child away?

“I should kill him anyway. He knows too much”.

He was right. Mortals that didn't have demigods weren't supposed to know about the gods existence, so technically killing him wouldn't be completely out of left field. Technically he somewhat had the right to. That's what his deluded mind was telling him anyway. And even if the man on his knees didn't know what he did now, he still deserved a form of punishment.

Your minds seemed to be linked, because you shook your head at him, like you were telling him “no. Don't do that”. You crouched down in front of Trent who was still desperately trying to free his shoulder. “You want him to let go don't you?”

“Well obviously!”. Ares didn't like the attitude and he was going to push down hard enough to dislocate his shoulder, but you put your hand back on top of his and shook your head again.

“He will. First you have to swear to something. Make an oath. Swear that you'll never come back here. Swear that you'll never talk to me again and you'll never mistreat another woman again. Swear on the River Styx. If you break this oath, something terrible will happen. Won't it Ares?”. You looked up at him, expecting an answer. Ares didn't know the answer though. He knew what happened to gods and demigods but regular average civilians? He assumed it was something bad, but he didn't know how bad. Since he didn't have a solid answer, he just voiced what he wanted to do.

“If you break your oath, I'll find you. I'll tear your legs off so you can't run, then your arms so you can't crawl away. I'll give you medical attention so you don't die and I'll make your pathetic form into a punching bag for when I get bored and trust me, I get bored often”. Ares couldn't see how he looked but he knew he looked scary enough by the way the guy shuddered and looked away from him. He even started to cry, which Ares found ridiculous. He wasn't crying earlier. He was on top of the world thinking punishment wouldn't come and even now he wouldn't truly be punished.

The guy repeated everything you said in between disgusting sobs. He swore on the River Styx and Ares was sure he didn't even know what that truly meant. He just wanted to be let go. Ares didn't want to let go but after some more coaxing from you, he let go reluctantly. Trent ran out the house, still sobbing and holding onto his shoulder.

“Thanks for that” you said when you rose back to your feet, but it didn't sound like an actual thank you. You sounded annoyed. “He'll squeal but no one will believe him about being attacked by a god. He'll drive himself crazy or get himself sent somewhere. He'll always check for you behind him. Is that enough punishment for you?”. Ares wanted some sort of physical punishment right then and there, but he'd either deal with him when you weren't looking or decide this will do. Depended on his mood later on.

“Why'd you do that? Now he won't come back!”

“You made him swear never to come back”, but you didn't seem to like him pointing out that fact. You rolled your eyes,

“Yeah, because I knew you'd break him next time you saw him”. Good point, but why did you still want him around?

“You deserve better”

“And what's better? Someone like you? Someone who pops in from time to time? Someone our child hardly knows? If that's what I deserve, well… I guess I must not deserve much. Maybe I did something wrong in a past life”. Your words cut deep. They cut deep because you had a point. Ares put you in a terrible situation. A lonely one. He made you a single mother and although he didn't talk to mortals often, he was still able to pick up on how mortals felt about single mothers. The unnecessary shame that came with having a child but with no father, even if it wasn't their fault. A large chunk of the mistreated women he protected were single mothers themselves. There was an unnecessary amount of shame thrown onto their shoulders. They could've left a terribly abusive relationship, but all of it was still their fault. They were questioned why they couldn't just stick it out, because surely a child with no father was worse than a child with an abusive father who could “get better” if they just “stopped making problems”. He hated it. Now it was hitting him that he helped place this shame on your shoulders. He never said anything but he still decided to have a child with you even though he knew he'd never be able to stay. He wanted to say he made a mistake, but could it really be a mistake if it all meant he had you in his life even if it was only for fleeting moments?

“You don't need him” he got out finally but you had a counter.

“I need someone. I need someone here. I-I… listen I know Trent can be a handful but it's better to have a handful than nothing at all. You have no idea how lonely it gets and even with him it's still lonely because I can't talk to him about any of this stuff. Do you know how exhausting it is moving a child from school to school? Some schools won't even take her! Says she has disciplinary issues and I should do home schooling but how is that possible if I have to work so we don't end up on the streets?!” your voice got louder and if this was anyone else he'd make them apologize for raising their voice at a god. He didn't interrupt you though. Each word was like twisting a knife inside him and he figured that you should be able to decide when to pull it out.

“Other moms don't want their children anywhere near ours. They think she'll be a bad influence. Some of them aren't bold enough to say it, but I can tell what they're thinking! They treat her like some terrible disease their children will catch and I can't explain why she is the way she is! I can't say 'oh well her dad is a god and the monsters she draws are things she's seeing on the street and you can't see it but honestly she's in more danger than you’. I have to say 'they're just pictures. She's just creative!’ ” You began pacing and rubbing your hands together. “I'm alone and sometimes I don't wanna be alone. Having another adult here keeps the walls from closing in. Ugh. What type of mother am I? I can't explain any of this to my child and I can tell how alone she feels too. I think… I think I'm her only friend. She hears what people say about her. She thinks something is wrong with her. She thinks she's a burden. What eight year old thinks like this?”, You sat on the couch and put your head in your hands. “I'm a failure…”.

“Sad” wasn't the word Ares would use to describe how he felt. Maybe not even “sorrowful”. There had to be a better word to explain how he ached watching you fall apart. Ares wasn't good at personal talks, but he sat beside you and spoke

“You are not a failure”. It was simple, but he hoped it worked anyway.

You looked over at him with an expression he knew would be imprinted into his mind for eternity. “Then what am I?”.

He could go on and on about what you were and how much you meant, but he knew he didn't have much time. Zeus probably already knew he was here. He was nosey like that and he'd do anything to make sure everyone followed his lead. He wished he could tear him apart but Ares knew better than to voice any of the malicious thoughts he had or to try and harm him. Maybe a time would come, but it wasn't now.

“You're doing your best with the heavy burden I put on you”

“She's not a burden” you said quickly. “I'm just not sure what to do anymore. Everything I do seems like the wrong choice”. Ares wanted to approach a topic you seemed to despise but either he was predictable or that mind link was a real thing because next you said “No”.

“That camp-”

“Your family will mold her into what they want her to be and respectfully your family… uhh…” he got it. The gods didn't take kindly to insults and he wouldn't be surprised if you finished your sentence and then was magically turned into a pig.

“She needs to be a warrior. Camp will attempt to make her a warrior”. You didn't seem pleased.

He hated your stubbornness. He didn't watch other demigods as much, but even he knew their mortal mother's tended to die because of their own stubbornness. They'd refuse to send them to camp and when their child realized who they were and the monsters came running… well… there was a good chance everyday struggles wouldn't be a problem anymore.

“She'll realize at some point and you can't protect her”.

“I know” you admitted. The defeat was all over your face and in the heavy breath you took. You laid your head on his arm and intertwined your fingers together. “She's gone for tonight. She's staying with my mother down the street. She's the only one that takes her in sometimes. Can you stay over tonight?”.

“What are you suggesting?”

“You're the furthest thing from funny. I'm not having one of your kids again, are you insane?”. Although you said he wasn't funny, and he wasn't joking in the slightest, you both managed to laugh.

“Seriously, can you stay?”. The sky was clear and sunny but thunder rumbled.

If Ares was granted three wishes from a genie, he'd use all of them to watch Zeus die a horrible miserable death over and over again. What harm would one night do?

Well… a demigod could come out of one night but if Zeus didn't like it, he didn't have to watch.

He knew that argument wouldn't work and he didn't have to speak for you to know the answer. You scooted away from him and you took a sudden interest in the floor.

“I would if I could-”

“I know. I understand”. Another thing he hated about you. You were too understanding. He wanted you to scream at him. He wanted you to scream about how much you hated him and how he ruined you. He wanted you to swear at him and tell him to never step foot near you again. Anything that would make separating easier.

“Ares” you spoke, breaking the silence that filled the room. “If I agree to having her sent to camp, will you watch over her? Can you send one of those- what were they again? Oh! Satyrs. Can you send one of those and make sure they both get to camp safely?”

He didn't have to think. “Yes”.

“And claim her. Maybe not too soon though. I remember when I went to camp people got jealous when their parents would send them letters. I know my camp wasn't a god camp but you know what I mean. I just don't want her to catch unwanted attention”.

“Of course”

“Oh and one more thing. I know I'm asking for a lot but can you give me to the end of the school year. I don't know if she'll want to come back home or if it'll even be safe and-”

“You want time”. You didn't respond but he knew the answer. He knew how hard letting go would be for you and the thought that meeting you was a mistake crossed his mind again. You deserved to have a regular family and a regular husband that you had regular conversations with. Not this.

Thunder rumbled again.

“You have to go” you didn't sound like you wanted him to leave and he didn't want to leave either but he knew he had no choice. He stood up,

“I'll see you again. I promise”

“You've made enough promises, you don't have to do that. You can…” the words seemed like they burned to get out, “you can move on”.

He wanted to argue and say that he'd never truly move on from you. That you were the most memorable mortal he'd been with and he had no plans on leaving you be, but then he realized how selfish that was. Damming you to a life of sitting and waiting until he had time to see you. The thought of you sitting home alone waiting for any sign of him, signs that he wouldn't be able to give as often as you needed made him feel an immense amount of guilt.

“You make me an oath” he started, “I don't know what happens when mortals break an oath they make on the River Styx, so swear on anything that's important to you that you'll find a guy who deserves and appreciates you. Not another guy like before. Not some guy to fill in the empty space in here. I mean a man who will treat you right until you become just a memory”. Knowing he'd never be that man filled him with a burning sensation he couldn't quite explain. Some people would say “I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy” but Ares wasn't like that. He'd only wish this on his worst enemies. Not someone he got into an argument with, or someone he didn't like. Only the enemies that made him spit when he heard their name.

“I swear on our daughter” was all you said and it was all he needed to hear. He didn't give you a kiss or hug you goodbye. It'd make it too hard to leave. He just left. He closed the door behind him like nothing had happened and left you behind.

There was a small part of him that selfishly wanted you to break that oath because that'd mean he'd get to see you again, even if it was only to commit violence. The bigger part of him knew that was selfish. You needed to keep true to that oath, even if it would destroy him to watch you call someone else the love of your life eventually.

This could’ve been a heeheehaha jokey thing but I’m an asshole so here we are. I hope it’s clear that I write requests in the order I get them btw. This isn’t towards the anon, I’m just saying to everyone if a request is taking a hot minute I’m either ill, busy, or working on one that came before yours. I also try to do one requests a day to keep things spread out. Posting all the requests on one day will upset me and my homegirls.

[moonchild1]

AO3 List PT.2

here's part 2 of my favourite bts fics on ao3 ♡ if you have any of your own recommendations feel free to tell me I would love to hear them ♡ some contain smut so no minors do not interact find pt. 1 here...

s- smut a- angst f- fluff

all of btssmutgalore’s work (sadly they aren’t on tumblr anymore)

all of univsa work

all of personasintro's work

roommates with benefits by joonswhistle f s a

↬ You and Namjoon are roommates. You're both really horny one morning. So you come to an understanding:

1. It's not a regular thing.

2. It happens on the couch.

3. Kissing is allowed.

4. Condoms, always.And just like that, you're roommates with benefits

seoul underground by hunniejimins s a ft. jungkook

↬ You're a crime & corruption journalist for one of the most esteemed newspapers in Seoul currently investigating drug trafficking in Hong Kong. A hit is taken out on you and as a twisted stroke of luck, a member of a rival gang inadvertently saves you - Jeon Jungkook. He kidnaps you and brings you to the gang's kingpin, Kim Namjoon, who initially had plans to kill you, but a certain bracelet ends up buying you time. Things only get further complicated when they realize who you are and what you can offer them.

OR

Namjoon and Jungkook both fall in love with you and it's a mess, but monogamy is overrated anyway, right?

Covenant by fringesofsanity f s a

↬ You are betrothed to Kim Namjoon, the heir of a real estate mogul. To say that it was a fairytale romance would be erroneous. You’re instead loped in the sad tale of the rich and melancholy.

Faith by AndrastesChosen f s a

↬ It's time to let yourself believe in someone. You're probably an idiot for it, but you're going to put your faith in this man named Namjoon. (AKA You fall in love with underground rapper Namjoon and make a difficult choice so he can follow his dreams)

Partners by btssmutgalore f s a

↬ As a part of a literature assignment, you get paired up with Kim Namjoon, a guy you’ve never even heard of.

the wedding arrangement by sugalights f s a

↬ You are in love with your best friend, the only man who matters, Kim Seokjin. Unfortunately, he's just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgemental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

formula for love by bluesxde f s a

↬ newly single and in the midst of a bitter divorce, with a custody battle thrown in, chemistry professor kim seokjin tries not to fall in love with the new library assistant. and fails, horribly

The Stranger by btssmutgalore f s a

↬ When your plane hits turbulence, you start panicking and tell some of your biggest secrets to the attractive stranger sitting next to you.

Before Your Very Eyes by vyduan f s a ft. myg poly au

↬ After decades of being friends, Y/N finally realizes just how attractive Yoongi and Seokjin are and wonders why she never noticed. Except, Seokjin might be getting back with an ex and Yoongi is a permanent fuckboy. Is Y/N just desperate to get laid or does she love them? (And if she loves them, is she too late?) Oh, and also, THEY WERE ROOMMATES (but there are three beds)

Amalthea by Daechwitatamic s a

↬ You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Paris For A Day by automnesleaves f a

↬ On his last stop of his European tour to spread Korean culture, Kim Seokjin, the South Korean president's son, plans to escape his duties for a day to enjoy the sights of Paris with your help.

In other words: a slight adaptation of Roman Holiday, one of my favorite romantic films.

arranged by obiwrites f s a

↬ If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her. But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?

piece by piece by underthejoon f s a ft seokjin

↬ a collection of drabbles where your love life is muddied up by two men – the one you love and the one that loves you.

tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love) by minlouvre f s

↬ Even though he is everything you find attractive in a man, your friend and co-worker Jung Hoseok is just exactly that - a friend and co-worker. For some reason, you have never found yourself attracted to him even though all the girls and guys around you go absolutely crazy for him. But that all changes for you one night while scrolling through Heart2Heart, a sex live cam website...

the december of our adulthood by vyduan a

↬ Jimin collapsed all over you and the middle console from his seat in a fit of giggles and did his best to tease a smile back onto your face. “Thanks for picking me up so early on a Saturday morning, Y/N. You’re the best friend a guy could ever have.” Even after all these years, you couldn’t control the dip of disappointment at his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t love being Jimin’s best friend. It was more that you knew you would never be anything more. You grunted in acknowledgment and pushed the sadness down, burying it under years of practice and half truths. You would be content with what you had. You would be satisfied with the love Jimin was willing and able to give. You were not entitled to anything more. It was enough. It was enough. It was never enough.

[moonstruckme]

IN a week - what I’ve never seen in a Steve 80’s pop star AU!!! his hair? joes actual voice? THE FACE? He’s always giving pop star to me

Yessss thanks sm for requesting honey!

join the party

popstar!Steve x fem!reader ♡ 705 words

“Oh wow.” You swipe a magazine from the rack by the checkout. “The sexual exploits of heartthrob Steve Harringon? Inside source tells all?” You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “Stevie, is there anything you’d like to tell me? Has Robin sold you out?” 

“She would,” Steve allows, not even looking at the magazine as he sets your groceries on the conveyor belt. Nancy has told him a million times to not risk being out in public like this, but he says he misses the mundanity of it. I just want to go to the mall and shit like that with my girlfriend, that shouldn’t be a big ask. So they’d compromised; Steve sacrifices the volume of his hair every time he goes out by squishing it under a baseball cap, and Nancy gets the peace of mind knowing that there’s no chance of her most big-time client being recognized while his hair (practically trademarked, at this point) is covered. “But she has even more fun with feeding them ridiculous stories. She says my real life is too boring.” He wraps his arm around you, drawing you away from the magazine rack. “Monogamy, you know?”

“Such a drag,” you agree, gratified when he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Wanna see what she told them?”

Steve makes a noncommittal humming sound, but he leans over to watch as you leaf through to find his page. “Ooh, this is a good picture of you, babe.” Steve winks at you from the page, skin glossy and laminate. “Okay, so you slept with every single girl at Hawkins High while you were there, you…apparently had a very passionate fling with an heiress on vacation in Bora Bora, and you were found in a closet, completely naked with two girls at a party…in uptown?” You gawp at him, feigning betrayal. “Stevie, was that the party last week? When did you slip away?”

He jostles you by the shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“You’re so sweet to me. Hey, look—” you pick up another magazine, reading off the cover, “The seven-step regiment Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington doesn’t want you to know.” 

“You’re joking.” He scrambles to see over your shoulder, and you laugh, showing it to him.

“I am,” you confess, and Steve actually sighs in relief. “It says five steps.” 

“Suckers,” he scoffs. “Don’t fuck with me like that, babe, that’s my income you’re joking about.” 

You laugh again, reaching up to take his hand where it’s slung over your shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short,” you say, intertwining your fingers. “It’s only like, ninety percent of your income. You’ve got some talent.” 

Steve looks at you, eyebrows rising nearly to the brim of his hat. “Oh yeah? Changing our tune from the car this morning, are we?”

You scoff, but he only wrestles you closer, pulling you tight against his side. “I didn’t say you were a bad singer, I said you couldn’t hit the same notes as Madonna.” 

“But I did,” he says smugly, taking out his wallet as you approach the checkout. 

“Well, you tried.” 

Steve hums disappointedly. “M’gonna have to rethink all these free, private concerts if my audience doesn’t appreciate them,” he says. 

You smother a laugh, pressing a hand to your chest in a show of dismay. “What? No, please, Mr. Harrington, you can’t do that. I’m your biggest fan!”

“Harrington?” The cashier, a man not much older than you or Steve, looks up from the groceries. “Like, Steve Harrington?”

Steve tenses, and you feel instantly guilty for your dramatics. “Yup,” you say quickly. “I’m a big fan of his.” 

The man nods. “Me too. Heard he’s back in town for a bit.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“Yeah, but I mean, we probably won’t be seeing him around much,” he says matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders. Steve looks down as subtly as he can, hiding his face under the brim of his cap. “When you get that famous, you can’t just be going out in public like the rest of us. Poor dude would probably get mobbed.” 

“Probably,” you agree, smiling as you squeeze Steve’s hand in your grip. He sneaks his other hand to your waist where the cashier can’t see, pinching scoldingly at your side. “Wouldn’t want that.”

[cluz1babe]

"Open My Eyes..." Epilogue

1.3k Words

Thank you for reading!

If you didn’t already know, Chapter Seven+ will have House of the Dragon season 2+ spoilers)

PLOT

You were a Belaerys, with the Blood of Old Valyria in your veins, future Queen of Sothoryos. Up until eight years before the Dance of Dragons, everyone thought the Belaerys family was gone after the Doom. You were well-respected by everyone except most of the greens. Despite that, you were officially given a seat on the new High Council. The Hand, Otto Hightower, was trying to bring more countries to their aid, but his excuse was to bring peace between countries. Planning to wed you to Daeron, the Small Council of the Greens are shocked when Aemond refuses to offer you Daeron in order to take you for himself.

TAKES PLACE BETWEEN 129-133+ AC (a mix of show & book timeline & canon, plus my own)

Beta Read and co-written by my husband.  Representations of reader are the lightest and darkest skin colours available.

Limited use of ‘Y/N’.

From what I can remember about how to pronounce Nahuatl, you pronounce ‘X’ as ‘SH’, and pronounce every letter except ‘H’.

TRIGGER WARNINGS (full story) : Talk of Abortion, Emotionally Abusive Relationships (Aegon / Criston / Otto x Everyone), Alcohol, Blood, Blowjob, Branding, Bullying, Childbirth, Mentions of Rape (no rape of reader), Death, Drugs, Fire, Hallucinations, Incest, Marriage, Misogyny, Pregnancy, Profanity, Sexism, Slut Shaming, Smut, Violence, War, P in V, Sex, Fingering, No Cheating, MDNI, 18+ , ENM (Ethical Non-Monogamy), Slight Breeding Kink, Dub-Con (in the Aegon Bonus Chapter) if you squint

……………………………………………..

After Rook’s Rest, Rhaenyra took the Iron Throne and you & Aemond made plans to go to Sothoryos after discussing the terms of your allegience with Westeros. Part of that allegiance included you marrying Daemon. It would help ensure a peace between Westeros and Sothoryos. In return, they would each receive an egg from the next two fertilized eggs. And any children that you had with Daemon would visit Westeros once every two years.

When Rhaenyra became Queen, she asked for your council, as a soon-to-be Queen. You sat at the crowded table. It was actually a refreshing sight after the small councils you’d heard of, where there were few seats. And yet, you missed your husband at this table. You knew he was clever enough to be there, but you also understood Rhaenyra’s side of things. Having Aemond sit on any council wouldn’t look good to her supporters. When she finally asked the council, you advised her to imprison or kill Criston Cole and Larys Strong for being traitors, knowing they would forever be a threat. “While I understand how hard the decision is, and I do, trust me…they should either be put to death or imprisoned in the darkest cells for the rest of their pathetic lives.” You leaned close to her to whisper in her ear, strange to do at the council table, but Rhaenyra didn’t seem annoyed by the act. You knew what you were about to tell her would not shake her. “Larys  drīve iksos Breakbones iksos morghe.” (‘Larys is the reason Breakbones is dead.’) You sat back. “They are the reason there is still discord in Westeros. They may have done irreparable damage to you and to the crown.” You thought for a moment. “But…killing both of them may only damage your peoples’ opinion of you more.” After another moment of thought, you had an idea. “You could exile them or send them to the Wall.”

“My Queen,” Mysaria interrupted. “No one would be able to guarantee your family’s safety if they go free. There are still threats within your own family.” She was obviously talking about Jaehaerys, Maelor, and Daeron. “While I do not expect an uprising, you can never be sure, especially if you release them.”

“That’s why I have you, Mysaria. The Belaerys princess and I have agreed that your spies will work with hers. You should build your network in Sothoryos and Essos. There are people in those places who also need help and if we are ever to begin negotiations with them, I need to know what’s coming.” She turned back to you. “Where would I send them?”

“Sothoryos, if you’re so keen to let them go free.” Corlys wasn’t entirely serious. A few members laughed.

“Essos would be my suggestion. If you send them to Sothoryos, it’s practically a death sentence. First, the Brindled Men, then there are cannibals. And that’s if the basilisks didn’t get them in the very beginning. There are many diseases including green fever and sweetrot. There are even wyverns and apes large enough to kill elephants. And if my people find out who and where they are, they will be killed. We are slow to trust and even slower to forgive.” Those last two sentences were all Rhaenyra needed to know, but you felt that you needed to make a point to anyone at the table who may still doubt your ability to make an informed decision. In the end, Rhaenyra had Larys executed and had Criston sent to the Wall.

……………………………………………..

The Cannibal remained free for a while, but well-fed, which decreased incidents of cannibalism drastically. He still liked eggs. He was just lazy, but once he was finally claimed by Baela, he became somewhat of a trainer dragon for beginner dragonriders.

Sheepstealer was claimed by a woman named Nettles. It made her the first person in Westeros not of noble blood to claim a dragon.

Seasmoke chose his own rider, Addam of Hull.

Addam’s brother, Alyn claimed Grey Ghost.

Vermithor was claimed by Viserys.

Silverwing was claimed by Jacaerys.

In the meantime, you wed Daemon by a new ceremony of a hybrid Valyrian and Sothoryi wedding. Daemon also became King Consort to both you and Rhaenyra. Then you, Aemond, and your family left with your Sothoryi bannermen for Sothoryos, The Arrow Country.

When you arrived home, you had expected your father to have lied about abdicating in order to get you out of King’s Landing, but that isn’t what happened. Your father was being true to his word and you became Queen within a fortnight of arriving. The plans were put into motion as soon as your father learned the Dance had ended. When you were coronated, both Daemon and Aemond were present, they became your King Consorts.

When Aemond first saw Loicato, he felt at home. When he first saw the islands you were keeping secret, in the Bubrines at Sca and Dreoca, he was shocked. Not only because of how many dragons there were, or their size (the juveniles and adults were huge is Sothoryos), but because you had kept it a secret until you showed him. It was your responsibility to keep them safe, so you did, even from Aemond. You thought he would be angry with you, but he smirked at it the same as he did all of your actions. His response was, “I suppose I should expect nothing less from their sworn protector.” You had your reasons and he knew that much. You still needed males and your marriage to Daemon would ensure he traveled to Sothoryos. And when he did, other dragon riders with male dragons would follow. 

Aemond was also delighted to learn that Valyrian Steel was being made in Atotonilco and Zacualco in the Bubrines as well. The knowledge of how to make it had survived, making your people the only people making the steel. He had immediately asked for all of the books and scrolls related to the making of Valyrian steel so he could learn about it for himself. The magic and dragonfire and how to combine them to make the steel. It was all there and he poured over the tomes for weeks, learning all he could. He would never make it himself, and he knew that. But after he learned that they could use your own dragon to make some steel, he was tempted to use Vhagar’s fire.

You eventually found someone willing to teach Aemond magic. It was unusual to begin for someone over the age of ten, making a good tutor important. Aemond knew how things worked well enough, but putting them into practice was another story. For the first time since before he claimed Vhagar, he struggled with what seemed to come easy to children, even his own. You supposed it was best his head didn’t get too big by making it easy for him, but you encouraged him in all of his endeavors. 

For a while, you and Aemond shared a male lover. It was a side of Aemond that he kept hidden in Westeros, but when he saw how freely the people of your country treated each other as romantic partners, including same gender relationships, Aemond realized he could explore that side of himself, if he had your  permission. Once you gave it, you sought out someone you knew Aemond would get along with. It took months of them getting to know each other, and in that time, you also grew close. 

You had nine children, five of them were Aemond’s, three were Daemon’s, and one was the child of a man you married for peace, Horado Jasaw Chaac. Aemond loved them all like they were his own, even if Daemon seemed a little annoyed by not being able to spend as much time with them. Aemond helped teach your kids High Valyrian. The two of you together helped teach your kids fighting & swordplay and rides on your dragons before their own dragons grew large enough. 

Aemond gained a second dragon, a hatchling, a drake he named Ololiuhqui (Olo). You hatched a second dragon for yourself and named her Elaera. Daemon had an egg hatch a she-dragon he named Valerra and Rhaenyra hatched a drake she named Baerax. 

……………………………………………

One day, sun shining bright, you saw a sight you never imagined would be possible: Your husbands flying their dragons together racing through the sky. Aemond looked almost divine in his saddle. The smiles on their faces were clearly worth everything. You watched the race with the children, they cheered loudly for the dragons. It seems to you that everything turned out perfectly. 

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EPILOGUE

Epilogue Playlist

Belaerys-Targaryen Family Tree

Representation of You (includes Rook’s Rest)

Bonus Daemon x Reader x Aemond

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Archive of Our Own (must be logged into your account because AI is combing through AO3)

@ilikechocolatemilkh

[jerzwriter]

Mono~poly Chapter 3: Propositions

A Tobias x Casey AU - Information and Notes

AU Premise: What happens when something that was supposed to be just fun turns into something real? When true love enters the equation between two people who view the very concept of love in different ways, can it work? In this alternate universe, we'll follow Casey and Tobias (and some others along the way) on their journey, where a happy ending is what both desire, but (as in life) nothing is guaranteed.

Fandom: Open Heart, Choices ** Pairing (This Chapter): Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish F!MC Other Characters: Ethan Ramsey, Jackie Varma, Bryce Lahela OC: Halle Williams (mentioned), OC: Addie Larkin, OC: Vivian Carrick. Rating: Teen Words: 5,300

Chapter Summary: Three years into their relationship, Tobias and Casey are still the couple to be. But as big changes take place around them, Casey faces internal struggles, while Tobias wonders if the two of them are still on the same page.

A/N: It took much longer to get this chapter up than expected; that was mostly because I forgot I was hosting Tobias Carrick Appreciation Week (you can check that out here!), and then work decided to explode! Hopefully, life will be kind, and I can get back on a normal schedule with this! I got it up just in time for the last day of Non-Monogamy Awareness Week - even though we haven't gotten to that NM part yet! lol Participating in @julychallenge Pink: Love, Optimistic, Vulnerable, Friendship Black: The Unknown

SERIES MASTERLIST SERIES INFORMATION MY MAIN MASTERLIST

Tobias loved few things more than mornings like this: mornings when he could wake up on his own accord without work or other obligations beckoning. Days that started with the sunshine beaming in the window or the birds chirping outside, or days like today when he was awakened by the best reason of all.

His heavy silk comforter shifted unexpectedly, leaving his legs exposed and pulling him from his groggy haze. A smile was on his lips before his eyes had a chance to open when Casey’s arm encircled him in a warm embrace. It didn’t matter that they’d been together three years now; he knew in his heart he’d always cherish starting his day like this.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said with a raspy voice. His smile growing exponentially when her naked body squirmed against his, relishing the warmth between them.

“Mmmm. Morning,” she whispered. “Can we stay asleep a little bit longer?”

“We could, but then I won’t get any alone time before you’re off to work.”

“Sure you can,” she yawned. “We can have alone time sleeping.”

“Fine,” he chuckled. He never could put up much of a fight when it came to her.

An hour later, a sleepy Casey shuffled into the kitchen with little recollection of their earlier exchange. Her eyes were half closed, and she would have still been in bed if the aroma of Tobias’s French toast hadn’t beckoned her from afar. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, wearing no more than his flannel pajama top. 

“You’re making me French toast!” she sang.

“Mmm hmm. Your favorite,” he smiled. “And you’re wearing my pajama top.”

“Mmm hmm,” she mimicked, well aware of the effect that had on him. “Your favorite.”

“You better believe it is,” he replied, knowing it would take all his strength to focus on breakfast.  

He told her to sit and made a grand display of serving her. After just one bite, Casey began to make those noises he adored. He'd heard them at this kitchen table before, sometimes with the two of them seated at it, sometimes with the two of them on top of it, and they were music to his ears either way. He barely touched his food, too enraptured watching her enjoy hers. Those closest to them wondered when they’d emerge from that blissful bubble most couples found themselves in at the start of a relationship, but three years in, the two of them showed no signs of the bubble bursting.

Casey was mid-bite and running her toe up his bare leg when she caught him staring her way.

“Yes?” she asked playfully.

“Yes...,” he affirmed. “That’s what I want you to say.”

“Oh, really?” She teased. “Who knows, I just might... depending on your question.”

He took her hand, his eyes warm and sincere. “Move in with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he had asked her. It wasn’t even the twentieth; by now, he had lost count. And each time, she answered the same way. “Eventually.” She’d remind him that she was with him most of the time, her landlord had forgotten what she looked like by now, but that didn’t matter to Tobias. He wouldn’t be content until her name was next to his on the mailbox, and now, the stakes were even higher.

“Tobias...” she sighed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You know what I’m going to....”

“Eventually,” he huffed. Normally, he took it in stride, but he couldn't find it in himself to do that today. Pulling his hand back, he began to clear the table.   

“Baby,” she said, rising to his side. “Please don’t be upset.”  

“I’m not upset, Casey, I’m not.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m... I don’t know. I guess I’m hurt... a little. I don’t understand why the woman I love, the woman I know loves me, seems to find the idea of living with me to be so abhorrent.”

“I don’t! If I believed that, do you think I’d be here all the time? I love you and love being with you. Why is it so important to you that it’s official?”

“Why is it so unimportant to you?”

“It’s not... it’s just....”

“Case,” he interrupted, running a hand down his face. “I’m buying a new place. I’m buying a home that I hope will be ours one day, and doing it by myself feels so lonely.”

“But you’re not!” She insisted. “We the neighborhood out together. I’m looking at places with you and giving you my input. I wouldn’t be doing that if I didn’t expect to live there with you, too.”

“Eventually,” he frowned.

Casey threw her arms around him and nuzzled her head in his shoulder. He loved and hated the way her touch alone could make him lose all reason and forget why he was upset just moments before.  

“It’s going to happen, hon. And until then,” she pulled him into a tender kiss. “I’m still going to be here with you so much you’ll be sick of me.”

“As if,” he smirked.

Confident she had smoothed things over, she gazed up with a playful smile. “So, when will we be doing more shopping for our new place?”

“I’ll be doing that today,” he replied. “But you’ll be at work.”

“Which you knew!” She playfully punched his arm. “Way to include me!”

“It’s only because a few properties just hit the market this morning, and I want to get a jump on them. If it’s anything worthwhile, I’ll take you back to see them.”

“If anything’s worthwhile, you’ll Facetime me,” she corrected. “Things are moving quickly these days!”

“Good idea! And the listings Halle sent me this morning are very impressive; they probably will go quick.”

“Halle?” Casey asked. “I thought she was just filling in for Ray while he was on vacation. Isn’t he back yet?”

“He is, but I decided to work with Halle going forward.”

“Oh,” Casey said as the mood in the room shifted. “Well, let me know if you like anything,” she took a hesitant step backward. “I should go get ready for work.”

She rushed out of the kitchen, but Tobias was quick at her heels.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” he asked, though it took a few more attempts before he persuaded her to answer.

“I just don’t care for Halle... that’s all, and of course, the first time you’re going to look at properties alone... she’s your new agent.”

Tobias raised an eyebrow. “Case... please don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” She insisted, all but assuring him she was jealous. “I... I just don’t like Halle. Why did you have to switch?”

“I switched because she's better. She gets listings to me the moment they hit the market, whereas Ray sat them. Plus, Halle just seems to have a better idea of what I’m looking for.”

Casey rolled her eyes, “Of course she does.”

Tobias was still amused, but that was morphing into concern as the conversation continued. He sat on the bed, pulling Casey onto his lap.

“This isn’t like you, babe... where is this coming from.”

Apparently, he missed a lot of things Casey saw during their two appointments with Halle. Like how friendly and flirtatious she was with him but was barely cordial to her. Or how the real estate agent's caramel curls bounced when she laughed hysterically at his mediocre jokes and the way her dark brown lit up when Tobias joked that he couldn’t convince Casey to move in with him.

“A gorgeous doctor who is buying a badass place in Boston, and you're not moving in? You better jump on that, girl, before someone else does.”

She said it with just enough humor that Casey would have looked like a fool if she said anything, and Tobias was oblivious to it all. He continued being his usual flirtatious self, and at some point, Casey quietly began to feel like she was the third-wheel. But things returned to normal the second Halle left, so there was no reason to address it until now.

“Tobias, she’s totally into you... it’s so obvious... I can’t believe you don’t see it. And she’s gorgeous. If she weren’t 5 foot 5 in heels, she’d be a model with no interest in the real estate market. And don’t tell me you didn't notice that.”

“Babe, of course, I noticed she’s attractive, but my only interest in her is having her find me a new place. Do you seriously think I’d cheat on you?”

No. Casey thought. But she could be the one that eventually sparked the conversation Casey had been waiting on for three years. The one that would revive her “we don’t have to be monogamous” offer from years before. To date, Tobias hadn't expressed any interest in doing so, but Casey knew it would only be a matter of time before someone as beautiful and as forward as Halle lit that spark, and the possibility would become a reality.

“No,” Casey gulped. “I don’t think you’d cheat on me," she replied, deciding to leave out all of the rest.

“Then you have no reason to worry. So, she’s into me. Do you have any idea how many people are into you, but you don’t see me worrying.”

“Right,” she said with a dismissive wave. “I have an entire fan club.”

“You do!” He grinned.

“Name one person!"

“One? I'll do better than that. There’s Meghan, the surgical nurse, who begins stuttering whenever you're within five feet of her."

“Tobias! She has a stutter! That has nothing to do with me!"

“She only stutters when you're around, babe! Then there’s the tall, ginger pharma rep, who always makes sure you'll be in before he visits Edenbrook. At least half of the interns in every class you’ve had are at least a little in love with you, and then there’s Ethan.”

“Ethan!” She exclaimed in disbelief. “Ethan Ramsey?”

“Do you know another Ethan?”

“Tobias, Ethan and I are close. He’s one of my best friends, but it’s not like that. He's not secretly in love with me!”

“Right,” Tobias smiled. “Good to know I’m not the only one in this relationship that can’t see the obvious. Ethan adores you.”

“All right,” she said, nervously jumping off his lap. “Maybe in a sweet, platonic, non-I want to fuck you kind of way, but... no... No! Not like that!”

“All right, do you want me to ask him?” Tobias teased, to Casey’s horror.

“NO! God, no!”

“Well,” Tobias winked, “Then I guess we’ll never know.”

He stood up and stood before Casey, his seductive grin already making her weak, and that was before he leaned for a slow sensual kiss. His hands moved up, delicately skimming her chest as he unbuttoned his pajama top and pushed it off her shoulders, leaving her standing bare before him.

“We’ve got to get ready to leave,” she murmured. "I have work... you have Halle."

"We do," he said, his warm lips now trailing kisses over her shoulder. “But before we go, I need to make sure you know who I'm thinking about very clear... and that's you."

~~~~~

Two Months Later

The difficult parts were now behind them. A place had been selected, the offer accepted, and the mortgage obtained. They picked out furniture together, and they decided to decorate the place themselves, but at the last moment, Tobias brought in a pro. He hoped to be there for a long time and intended to make his very best memories there; it needed to be perfect — a blend of modern and traditional, awash in earth tones with splashes of color throughout. Casey joked that her blood pressure dropped just stepping inside, but all she had to do was look at the expansive views the floor-to-ceiling windows provided to get her pulse quickening again. Tobias’s new place was spectacular! The hard parts were now behind them; now, it was time to enjoy it.

~~~~~

“This is delicious,” Ethan marveled, savoring another bite of tender filet mignon. “I’ve got to admit, Carrick, the party, the new condo — you knocked it out of the park.”

“Thank you,” Tobias gushed, with a nod toward Casey. “But I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without this beauty by my side.”

Casey rolled her eyes and took a sip of wine. “Seriously? Like I cooked!”

Their guests erupted into laughter, with one notable exception.

“Tobias,” his mother scolded. “You’re not about to let her downplay her contributions like that, are you?”

“Of course not, Ma!” He chuckled. “I just said I’d have none of this if it weren’t for her.”

“That’s not true...” Caey began, but he quickly interrupted.

“It certainly is! How many classy dinner parties have I hosted in the past?”

All turned to Ethan, who visibly choked on his wine.

“None!” he scoffed, raising a napkin to his face.

“Exactly! See,” he said, placing a kiss on Casey's hand. “I need you.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Vivian beamed, raising her glass. “To Casey, the woman who finally turned my little boy into a grown man... and they said it couldn’t be done!”

“To Casey,” everyone cheered as her cheeks turned redder than the Malbec in her hand.

Pleased with the reaction, Vivian felt encouraged to continue. “So, when do you plan to seal the deal and make things official? Someone like Casey isn’t going to be on the market forever, son! Don't you agree, Ethan?”

“And why am I being singled out for that question?” Ethan asked.

“I don’t know,” Jackie snickered. “Maybe the fact that you had a relationship with both parties in the past gives you deeper insight than most.”

Casey lowered her face into her hands. “And this is why we can’t have nice things!” Peeking through her fingers, she locked eyes with Jackie. “Really? Can we have one classy party? Just one that doesn’t have to go there?”

At the other end of the Table, Tobias’s friend Addie scoffed as she bit into a warm dinner roll.

“With you two hosting? Doubtful,” she laughed. “But this is new information to me! I love your dinner parties! They’re very informative.” She raised her wine for a second toast. “To Casey and Tobias’s dinner parties, may we share many more, and, while attending, may many more spill their tea.”

“Oh, says the woman whose personal life is a virtual secret!” Casey exclaimed.

“Hey, can’t fault me for being smart,” Addie shrugged. “You don’t need a medical degree to know that private life is best kept private.”

Ethan glanced over the candle and crystal-strewn table and nodded with approval. “Clearly, you are very smart.”

“Casey,” Vivian injected, wishing to steer the conversation. “Why aren’t your parents here today?”

“Oh, well... they’ll be visiting, but, uh, it’s not my new place; so....”

“You are Tobias’s significant other, are you not?”

“Of course,” Casey giggled nervously.

“Then they should have been invited.” Vivian looked at her son disapprovingly. “I raised you better than that.”

“You sure did! And I offered, Ma,” he grinned, “but it’s Casey’s parents, so I left the decision up to her.”

“It’s better this way, Vivian,” she jumped in. “The two of them have barely spoken since their divorce, and when they do, it’s normally not pretty. As delightful as that has made the past twenty-two years of my life, I figured we could all do without the drama today."

“Mmm, what a shame,” Vivian shook her head as she speared her fork into a piece of perfectly cooked asparagus in hollandaise. “And it’s unfair to you; they’ll really need to work on that before you and Tobias have children.”

Casey spit her drink out, and Tobias lovingly patted her back. “You OK there, babe?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Casey replied, wiping up the mess. “Fortunately, I was drinking water and not wine.”

“Vivian,” Ethan stepped in, offering Casey a save. “Did you paint that stunning canvas in the foyer? It’s magnificent. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.”

Vivian’s face lit up. If there was one thing that could compete with her love of talking about – and eviscerating – her sons – it was art  - especially her art.

“Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for that one. It is exquisite, isn’t it!”

“Casey and I spotted that in a gallery when we visited New York last summer. I didn’t know where I’d end up, but I knew that painting had to come along with me. It’s been in storage since, and I’m glad it’s finally found its home.”

“But Vivian did make the watercolor in the living room and the piece in Tobias’s office just for him, and they’re beautiful!”

“Thank you, but I made them for both of you,” Vivian corrected. “My art means everything to me, but there is always something special about creating for the people I love. I offered to make a piece for the bedroom, but Tobias declined.”

“Yeah,” he barked out a laugh. “No offense, Ma, but the last thing I want to be thinking about in the bedroom is you.”

Bryce, seated next to Jackie, let out a laugh. “And just like that, the conversation is back there!”

“I’ve just come to accept it,” Casey smiled. “But thank you, Vivian, for everything.”

Vivian reached over the table and lovingly took Casey’s hand. “Of course, my dear, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. For both of you.”

Blushing, Casey stood up and dusted off her body-skimming, champagne silk dress. “I should clear the table and get dessert served,” she announced.

Ethan wiped his mouth as Tobias pushed his chair back. “I’ll help you,” they said in unison as Vivian looked between them.

“Wow, you must have magic fairy dust,” Addie grinned. “Getting two men to help?”  Addie rose to her feet and nudged Tobias back into his. “Sit down there, my friend. You’re the host; entertain your guests and we’ll help Casey.”

“But Casey’s hosting, too,” Tobias insisted.

“It’s fine, baby,” she replied, leaning to give him a peck on the cheek. “…and I need a little break,” she whispered into his ear, and only then did he let her go.

“I’d offer to help, too,” Jackie shouted. “But if I do, Tobias won’t have enough people to entertain.”

“Yeah, that’s the reason,” Bryce laughed, wincing when he was the recipient of Jackie’s playful smack.

In the kitchen, Casey pushed the remaining food off a china plate, then placed it into the sink where Addie was washing.

“I’ve never understood the point of china,” Ethan mused. “It’s only brought out for special occasions when people usually have many guests, but it’s not dishwasher safe, leaving a ton of dishes to do.”

“Some china is dishwasher safe,” Casey informed. “But Vivian insisted Tobias have his late grandmother’s set. It’s simple enough to compliment his décor, but it’s old, so... no dishwasher.”

“Oh, it has a dishwasher,” Addie joked. “The dishwasher is me.”

“And I appreciate it,” Casey beamed, giving Addie a side hug.

“I’m happy to help. Everything has been lovely today.”

“Thank you! Of course, Vivian was mortified that Tobias didn’t hire ‘help’ for the event. I’m sure she’s giving him an earful now.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Addie chuckled. “Why do you think I made him stay behind?”

“I like her more and more every time I see her,” Ethan smirked.

“But you just wait; Tobias will have help when you throw your next party,” Adide insisted. “Mark my words. And not because his Mom is scolding him. I’m sure it's driving him crazy that his precious princess is out here cleaning up instead of being in there with him.”

“Yeah, well, he does tend to spoil me,” Casey admitted. “But sometimes it’s all a little much. I don’t come from his world, and the idea of hiring help for a get-together with friends and family sounds....” She twirled her hand around, unable to find the right word.

“Preposterous,” Ethan grinned. “I believe the word you’re looking for is preposterous.”

“That’ll do!” Casey laughed.

“And that’s why I like you,” Addie winked. “You’re one of us. Tobias always needed someone to ground him.”

“Although you wouldn’t know it looking at this place,” Ethan injected. “Do I even want to know what he paid for it?”

“No, you don’t,” Casey chuckled. “But remember, it’s Tobias’s place, not mine.”

“Like you’re not going to be here all the time,” Addie remarked.

“Why haven’t you just moved in?” Ethan asked. “Sometimes I forget that you're not living together."

Casey looked to the entrance of the kitchen when she heard footsteps, relieved that it was only Bryce heading to the restroom.

“Keep your voice down on that, please,” she insisted. “It’s a sore subject with Tobias. He’s been asking me to move in officially, and....” she trailed.

“Fine, but I need the story on that! Why haven’t you? You mono folks usually step onto that relationship escalator on day one. You’ve been together, what, three years now? Shouldn’t you be making me squeeze into an ugly bridesmaid dress and selecting names for your 2.3 kids by now?”

Casey grabbed the damp dish towel from Addie’s hands and playfully smacked her hip with it. “Stop mocking me, Queen Poly-anna.”

“Queen Poly-anna?” Ethan questioned.

“It’s her pet name for me,” Addie grinned. “Isn’t it cute? She has to show off that she has one poly friend!”

“That’s not true!” Casey defended. “I have more than one poly friend.”

“Oh, yeah?” Addie asked. “Name another.”

“Oh, all right,” Casey surrendered. “You’re my only poly friend, but I have other poly acquaintances!”

“You sure do!” Addie snorted. “Probably more than you even know. I’ve gotta go to the little girl's room. Do the two of you have this under control?”

“Absolutely,” Casey assured. “Join the rest when you’re done. We’ll bring dessert in momentarily.”

Casey caught Ethan watching Addie walk away and raised a brow when he caught her looking.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Casey joked. “You have had a crush on her since the day you met!”

“I have not!” He insisted. But Casey didn’t believe him for a second. “I just... I enjoy seeing her at your events.”

“I’ll bet you do!”

“Have you ever met her elusive boyfriend?”

“Believe it or not, I haven’t,” Casey replied. “Honestly, I don’t see Addie all that often. Besides, she has more than one partner. There’s the elusive long-term boyfriend and a girlfriend in Charlestown. She also has a long-distance thing with someone in New York. But I’ve only met her girlfriend, and briefly, at that.”

“God,” Ethan sighed, pouring a glass of water. “How does she keep track?”

“I don’t judge,” Casey shrugged. “Polyamory may not be for everyone, but she’s happy, and she’s not doing anything wrong, so...”

“Oh, I wasn’t judging. I apologize if I came across that way.”

“It’s fine,” Casey smiled. “You know me, I’m just protective of the people in my life.”

Ethan reached over and playfully bopped his finger against her nose. “I know. It’s one of the things I find so endearing about you.”

Casey looked almost abashed as she opened the cake boxes on the marble countertop, placing each one on a decorative plate for serving.

“But you never answered my question," he circled back. "Why haven’t you moved in with Tobias? While I don’t subscribe to that relationship elevator thing...”

“Escalator,” Casey corrected.

“Whatever!” He laughed. “But you are the most grotesquely happy couple I know. As much as I was skeptical of the match at first, I have to admit... you two are the perfect couple.”

“Well, there’s no such thing as perfection,” she insisted. “But, we’re pretty damn close.”

Ethan couldn’t help but notice the way Casey lit up whenever the subject turned to Tobias. “You can’t even talk about him without glowing. So what’s the holdup?”

“I practically live here,” she answered nervously. “I helped him pick the place, and we decorated it together.”  

“So then...”

“Ethan,” she huffed. It was rare for her to keep things from her closest friends, but this was something she didn’t want to touch. “I don’t want to talk about it, OK?”

“It’s your parent's divorce, isn’t it?” He asked, undeterred. “Casey, don’t let that hold you back. You, more than anyone, taught me that I can’t let the past hold my present or my future hostage. You were an absolute pain in the ass about it at the time. But I have to admit,  in the end... you were right. So I’m going to nag you as much as you nagged me if I think it’s needed, and I think it’s needed.”

“All right,” she smiled, with the defenses she briefly raised falling. “I appreciate that you care enough about me to mention it, and I’ll bring it up in therapy. I swear.”

“Good,” he grinned. “Your happiness matters to me. And, I’ll admit, I wouldn’t mind going to a good wedding. The past few I’ve gone to have been dreadful!”

“Ah, you’re just hoping Addie will go stag; that way, you could be her date.”

“That’s not it,” Ethan insisted. Casey laughed at his defensiveness, giving him a big hug just as Tobias stepped into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well,” he joked. “I’m gone fifteen minutes, and you’re already moving in on my wife.”

“You’re wife?” Casey laughed as she walked to Tobias’s side, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Well, that’s what my Mom’s calling you... practically,” Tobias laughed.

“Nothing like parental pressure,” Ethan sighed. “Even at our age. I’ll go keep Vivian occupied for a bit. You two haven’t had any alone time in the past few hours. I’m shocked one of you isn’t twitching.” He clapped his hand on Tobias’s back as he passed him. “Great party.”

“Thanks, Buddy,” Tobias said as their friend left the room. He turned to Casey, eagerly pulling her into a loving embrace. “Mmmm, I miss you.”

“Miss me? I’ve been with you all day,” she smiled.

“Yeah, but there are too many.... others. Make them leave!"

“Soon,” she chuckled. “Everything has turned out just great today!”

“Of course it has,” he beamed. “Anything we do together does.”

“You know what, you’re not wrong.”

Tobias looked at her, more confident than smug. “I rarely am.”

“You’re impossible,” she laughed, returning to preparing the deserts.

Tobias stuck his finger into the icing of the chocolate cake, scooping a dollop of the decadent treat into his mouth.

“Stop!” Casey scolded, and she swatted his hand away. “Don’t make me call your mother out here!”

“No! Please!” He begged. “Mmmh, that cake is delicious. Where’s it from.”

“It’s from Bova’s. Halle sent it along with the box of sfogliatelle over there.”

“She did?”

“Mmm. I thought I told you. The note she sent is next to the box. Basically, congratulating you on the home and apologizing for being unable to make it today.”

“That was nice of her,” Tobias stated, pulling Casey close again for a tender kiss. “She didn’t seem interested in attending after I told her my brother couldn’t make it. Besides, she thinks you hate her.”

“What!” Casey protested. “I’ve been nothing but nice to her. Besides, she is the one who doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true! Everyone loves you.”

“Really? Look at the note again. Is there mention of me?”

Tobias reread the note, a little surprised that he hadn’t noticed the first time.

“And tell me,” Casey added. “Was I anything but nice to her when we were together?”

“You... you were,” he agreed. “Alright, maybe you were on to something.”

“Maybe?” she asked playfully.

Tobias held her close, his soft laughter rumbling against her chest.

“You can't blame her, babe; I’m irresistible. But if she doesn’t like my baby, I’m glad she didn’t show.”

"But we can still eat the desserts she sent, right?" Casey asked nervously.

“Absolutely! No way are they going to waste!"

~~~~~

After a lovely afternoon and evening, Tobias & Casey were grateful when the last of their guests had left. There was plenty to clean up, but that could wait. Right now they were watching darkness ascend over the city they loved from the comfort of the overstuffed couch.

Tobias had already removed his jacket and tie; now, he anxiously unbuttoned the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt before sinking into the soft cognac leather sofa. Casey was quickly at his side, her head resting on his chest as she snuggled closer. Her long legs extended down the length of the couch, and the slit on her rouched silk dress afforded Tobias a perfect view. One he appreciated every bit as much as the masterpiece outside the panoramic windows. The hues of dusty pink and purple morphed into grey, then a jet-black sky. The lights scattered throughout the city lit Boston up like a Christmas tree. He could feel Casey smile against his chest.

“I’m never going to get sick of this view.”

“Neither am I,” he replied. “And I'm glad you won't because I hope we’ll be looking at it together for a long, long time to come.”  

“For a long time to come?” she goaded. “Gee, thanks, Carrick! What happened to forever? Have I been downgraded?”

“No, wiseass,” he laughed. “I’m not sure if I’ll be in this condo forever. Hence, we’d lose the view. But you, you are absolutely forever, as long as you’ll have me, that is.”

“Much better,” she sighed contently, her body melting into his. Tobias intertwined his fingers with hers, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. A feeling of warmth and contentment he had only known since Casey entered his life overtook him.

“I hope you know how much I love you,” he breathed into her ear. “And I’m not just saying that because it’s something we’re supposed to say. I mean it with all my heart.”

“Tobias,” she smiled, but he held a finger gently against her lips. Sitting up, he took her hands in his, and she turned to face him.

“Please, let me finish,” he whispered. “I never expected you to enter my life and turn everything on its head. I didn't think anyone like you existed. Words like forever, they weren't in my vocabulary before you. People always told me someday I'd meet the "right" person who would change all that, but I thought they were out of their minds. So, imagine my surprise when you walked in and proved me wrong.”

Casey’s eyes filled with tears, and she raised a hand to caress his cheek.

“I know how blessed I am to have you by my side. I’ll never take that for granted, and I only hope I bring you one-hundredth of the happiness you brought to me. I want you with me, baby, not just today, but for the rest of my life.”                         

“Tobias,” she whispered again, her voice cracking with emotion. “I want you, too. I love you so much.”

“Good,”  he said with a smile that lit up the room. Casey’s breath hitched as he dropped down on one knee and removed a small velvet box that had lived in his pocket for the past few days as he waited for the perfect moment to arrive. As he knelt before her, he was confident that moment was here.

Casey gasped at the ornate antique diamond ring, a brilliant center stone surrounded by a cluster of smaller diamonds set in the most beautiful gold filigree she had ever seen. It was breathtaking! But it only managed to hold her attention for a moment, choosing to turn her gaze back to her beloved’s eyes. The ring may have been exquisite, but the look in his eyes right now was the most precious work of art she had ever seen.

“Casey, I love you with all that I am and all that I have. Will you please make me the happiest man in the world and accept this? Casey, will you marry me?”  

Her eyes darted nervously to the ring, then back to Tobias as her mouth went dry. Her expression turning to one of terror instead of awe. She instinctively scooted backward, heart racing and her face impossible to read.

“Oh! Oh, Tobias....” she stammered, as apprehension filled his eyes. “Tobias... I... I....”

“Yes?” he asked nervously, praying her answer would be yes.

“Tobias I....”

~~~~~

Sorry... you'll have to wait! :) If you've made it this far, thanks so much for reading!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

dad

annie told her father all about the alicia incident after sucking his cock on her couch. in fact, she told the story still kneeling on the floor, bottomless, cum on her chin.

robbie was out, having spent the night with casey. annie made her her father was aware of the empty apartment as she peeled off her panties for him, hoping he might want to go further, but he was certain robbie would appear at any time.

he was very interested in the idea of alicia's parents wanting to meet her and said the idea that alicia had a long-term illness but resisted long-term relationships was one he'd deeply probe if he were her parents' therapist. "i've got a few things you can deeply probe," annie offered.

her father left and robbie got home. he'd been railing casey all morning and had a few videos to prove it but could tell annie was deliriously horny, so he handed her his phone to watch the videos while he licked her clit and fingered her pussy.

"i met casey's parents this morning, she brought me down the stairs and she was literally in only a tank top, introduced me to her dad with her pussy showing."

"fuck," annie said. "i love her."

"her mom is hot, too," he said. "she had panties on but looked shaved. i tried not to stare."

annie giggled. "keep me posted." she said.

she had a date with richard that night. drunk after dinner in his apartment, she went to sophie's room and came out wearing some of her panties. richard called her sophie while he fucked her.

annie informed sophie of this along with a photo of her pulled-aside panties covered in cum. it was hours before sophie responded and she looked gaunt in the nude photo she sent back. annie was alarmed.

"you have to go get sophie," she told richard. "she's going to die."

somehow he heard it this time, and was on the next flight.

while waiting for updates from richard, annie got updates from tom. alicia was stable, but obviously comatose, and otherwise healthy. annie found herself weirdly compelled by alicia, and so asked tom questions about her.

alicia apparently worked in marketing for a company with offices L.A., NYC, and Chicago, and so spent her time floating between them. she had always been close with her parents and tom and rarely seemed to have time for friends. she picked up a lot of hobbies, though, and was skilled at a lot of crafts, and also juggling. he told her that alicia had never had anyone she called a girlfriend or boyfriend, but he knew that she was "always fucking someone."

"for a while," he told annie. "she was between apartments here, and lived with me and my girlfriend at the time," he said. "and she was getting railed like every single night. my girlfriend hated it."

"i hope you broke up with the prude," annie said.

"LOL," tom said. "i did, yeah."

annie asked tom if he wanted to meet for drinks a few days before she was set to meet his parents. he said yes, and so they met in the city that evening. he was tall and handsome.

"so do you guys vet all the women who give alicia strokes?" annie asked.

"this is the first time it has happened during sex," he said. "i think that is a compliment to you."

"yeah i am going to interpret it as such," annie said.

tom was presently single, he'd recently had an engagement broken off.

"why?" annie asked, not even apologizing for being nosy.

"we were just incompatible," he said. "i think i value relationships over things like, my career. and she was the opposite."

"i see," annie said.

"are there careerist therapists?" he asked.

"i guess," annie said. "the ones who want to write a book or become like, a social media star. i just like a pretty office and a steady income and feeling like i at least sometimes help people."

"have you ever been close to getting married?" he asked.

"not really," annie said. "i might have thought so. basically until my career really started i was kind of a monogamy addict, and i kept falling into long term committed relationships that didn't make me happy. for the last year i've really just been in casual situations and i am much happier."

"that's what i need, i think," tom said.

annie brought him back to her apartment. robbie was out, so they fucked and sucked for hours in the bed. tom had a great cock and great stamina. he loved annie's bush and was appreciative but not obsessive about her tits -- he turned her around to fuck her from behind a few times and annie really liked that, like he didn't need her tits in his face to be excited. he came on her ass and on her face.

"you gonna tell alicia about that when she wakes up or can i?" tom asked.

annie laughed. "has alicia ever seen your cock?" she asked him.

"you are such a therapist," he said. "straight to the family stuff."

"hey i haven't even asked about your mom yet," she said. "but has she?"

"yeah," tom said. "alicia has."

"when you were living together?"

"she walked in on me masturbating in the shower," he said.

"how did you feel about that?" annie said. "guys with big cocks tend not to be that concerned about being seen."

"yeah." he laughed. "i didn't mind. and she reacted positively."

"how so?" annie said.

"she said 'oh my god!' and then said 'that's a good oh my god!' and then clarified 'because you have a big dick!' and then she said 'oh my god!' again and left."

"did anything else come of it?"

"yeah," he laughed. "she came into my room in a towel and dropped the towel and said, 'we have to be even.'"

"was that the first time you'd seen her naked like, as an adult?"

"yeah," he said.

"she has great tits."

"yeah like you," tom said. "and like my mom."

"oh, that's good," annie said.

tom laughed. "why?"

"my mom doesn't have big tits and as soon as i developed she started to resent me, and my dad and my brother got like, really nice to me. as did every other man in the world."

"so it's good that my mom and alicia are on an even playing field?"

"good for their relationship, yes," annie said. "have you seen your mom naked?"

"all the time," he said. "she's not shy."

"how do they compare?"

"well, my mom is less tan and has more pubic hair and that's about it."

"how much more?" annie asked.

"well, as you know, alicia has none, and my mom has less than you," he said. "so there's not much, all day."

"i can't remember ever seeing my mom naked," annie said. "but when my brother goes home for weekends he says she will come into his room from the shower just fully nude and hang out."

"yeah," tom laughed. "that's not unfamiliar."

"really!?" annie laughed. "it's because you're tall."

"that does seem to make women want to get naked."

"has your mom seen your cock?"

"no."

"but she probably knows."

"my dad is about the same size as me," he said. "in all ways. i'm his clone and alicia is my mom's clone."

after that, tom got hard again, and so they fucked and this time annie took some pictures. she thought about using alicia's phone but decided not to. she gave it to Tom as he left the next morning.

[irkimatsu]

Overlord Husk adores having you as his pet. Thinks you're one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen, loves parading you around like a trophy, loves sleeping with you. He even enjoys your company enough to give you your own room in his penthouse. He just likes having you there, and he's happy to let you take advantage of all the amenities you desire whenever he has to go away on business.

But he doesn't promise monogamy right away. The thought doesn't cross his mind that he should. You don't think of it, either; why should an Overlord owe you his loyalty? Shouldn't it be the other way around? So you don't say anything whenever he staggers home drunk with one of his dancers clinging to his arm. You don't say anything as he takes her to his bedroom without even acknowledging your presence.

You don't say anything as your sleep is interrupted by the creaking and moaning on the other side of the wall. You have to remain quiet; you have to listen to what he's saying to her.

"Fuck, babe, that's the spot... look at you, you look like you're gonna cum already. You can hold on a little longer for me, can't you?"

What is there to be jealous about? It's not like he never speaks to you like that. You already knew he slept with other people; it's far from the first time you've heard it, and he's never tried to hide it before. You should be able to handle a single night alone.

So why are you feeling so lonely? Why do you find yourself irrationally hating this person you've never met, who owes you nothing?

You do your best to remain quiet as your hand slips into your underwear, focusing on Husk's voice and tuning out his partner's.

"No, no, doll, not yet. Beg first."

"Please, sir," you mouth at the same time as his partner says it out loud, wondering whose voice he prefers to hear those words in.

"Hm? Please what?"

"Please let me cum, sir-"

"Louder. Scream for me."

"Sir! I'm cumming!"

"Then do it- cum for me-"

His command, his very voice, is like a magic spell that shoots through your veins. You can't help but cry out his name - not the respectful term he demands to be addressed by, but a loud, needy "Husk!" - as you squeeze your hand between your thighs and ride your orgasm out. It may not have been much physically, especially not compared to everything he's already done for your body, but mentally... he voice is stuck in your head, playing over and over like a skipping record. "Cum for me. Cum for me. Cum for me."

You strain to hear what's going on next door, but you don't hear a thing. No screams, no shuffling of bed sheets, no quiet pillow talk. It's the silence of someone who's actively trying not to be heard, which isn't something Husk has ever cared about before now.

You burrow yourself under the blankets in shame, hoping you won't be in trouble in the morning.

[ninadove]

Luka Couffaine, First Kiss (curious to see what pairing you do)

You ask, but you already know:

“Wait, are you serious? You’re telling me you’ve never been kissed before?”

Adrien had heard those same words countless times — not-so-subtle flirting attempts, voiced by admirers who only knew him from posters and perfume bottles.

Spoken by someone he genuinely liked, they rang very differently.

“I’ve always managed to escape it,” he joked, sticking his tongue out in playful disgust. “Chat Noir’s been kissed many times, but I’ve been told none of these count.”

“How do they not count?” Luka asked, a false note echoing through the cabin as he tuned his guitar. “You either get a kiss, or you don’t.”

“I know!!! That’s what I’ve been saying!!!”

The older boy’s laughter ricocheted against the hull, softer than any melody he could ever play.

“What about you? Any luck in that department?”

“Not really, no.”

“How come?”

As soon as the question left his throat, Adrien felt the compelling need to smack his head against a wall. Luka, of course, sat there without a word, his smile as calm and forgiving as it always was.

“Ignore me. I’m an idiot.”

“What happened between Marinette and I was in no way your fault.”

“Still,” he mumbled. “I feel like it is. Just a little.”

A hint of hesitation passed through the older boy’s eyes — an unexpected wave in a usually serene sea.

“Well,” he finally spoke, “if you insist… I can think of a way you could make it up to me.”

It took Adrien a few seconds to put two and two together — but when he did, heat pooled in his cheeks, and he let out a very smooth:

“What?”

“Only if you want to,” Luka rushed out, leaning back out of reflex. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s fine if you don’t —”

Before he could finish his sentence, Adrien’s hands were on his, gently freeing the guitar from his hold. He did not protest as it was tossed onto the electric blue blanket — removing the barrier that once stood between them.

“No, you’re absolutely right,” the younger boy said, heart pounding in his chest. “I do owe you a kiss, after all.”

SURPRISE I wrote another one:

“Really, Chaton? This is the hill you want to die on?”

Marinette approached her dating life the same way she did every aspect of her hero work: with careful planning, unfruitful overthinking, and a good dose of insanity.

Adding a third partner to the mix meant even more stress, more nonsense coming out of her mouth, more scenarii to catastrophize about; which is why she had planned every single detail of her conversation with Chat Noir and compiled her findings into a PowerPoint, complete with useful statistics and colour-coded charts. She was prepared to face any concern — any cause for conflict that might arise.

Anything, except that.

“All I’m saying,” her partner pouted, precariously perched on her desk in full costume, “is that I should get to be Luka’s first kiss.”

The young girl blinked, confusion and frustration clogging her brain.

“This is childish,” she mumbled, lowering her pointer and crossing her arms. “I just gave you a thirty-minute-long presentation on ethical non-monogamy, and this is all you have to say on the matter?”

“Yes,” he reiterated, mirroring her stance as he pouted.

In a way, she should have been grateful: this talk could have killed their relationship right then and there. Yet, despite all her research and rationalisation, she could not help but feel a tinge of jealousy tugging at her heart strings.

“Luka and I have dated in the past,” she mumbled, rubbing her temples. “He will be more comfortable if it’s me.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“What do you mean, ‘nuh-uh’?”

The cup she stored her pencils in had slid dangerously close to the edge of the desk; she gave her boyfriend a death glare, and he pushed it back against the wall, reluctantly.

“I mean you had your chance, and you blew it,” he retorted, pupils narrowing behind the mask. “It’s only fair that I get to do the honours.”

Marinette opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. She had to admit it: it was a pretty convincing argument.

“Fine,” she sighed, rolling her eyes in defeat. “You get to kiss Luka first.”

A huge grin painted Chat’s face, and well. It was very hard to fight against that.

“Provided he says yes to our little arrangement,” she added, brushing the wrinkles off her shirt.

“He will,” he reassured her. “You’re the best, M’Lady, and I’m, well, me.”

She could not help but chuckle as he pretended to kiss his own biceps.

“Should we tell him to drop by right now? The sooner you kiss him, the sooner I get to do so.”

“Sounds like a plan. Hey, can I borrow your chapstick?”

“No way! You have your own!”

“Strawberry is more appropriate for special occasions.”

She placed her hands on each side of the desk, trapping him in place, and gazed into the playful emerald eyes.

“Very well,” she said, moving her lips closer to his. “I guess you get to try the chapstick.”

Now on AO3 here and here!

Ask game here!

[michelleleewise]

The Proposal

Pairing: Sugardaddy Loki x female reader

Warnings: bit of angst, mutual pining, drugging, kidnapping, Amber (she's a whole warning all by herself)

Summary: Thor tries to get information from Loki as you are invited to a movie night....

**this one's gonna feel a bit longer probably because I added text messages 😁😁

Part Sixteen-

You woke Monday morning feeling anxious, like this bad feeling was hovering over you. You shook it off getting dressed heading to the kitchen for coffee. You checked your phone seeing Loki had text you sometime during the night "Darling, I'm sure your sleeping, or you should be. I only wanted to check in. Remember to call me if you need. ~L~." You smiled reading the text seeing it was from two in the morning you text back "what were you doing up so late? You need sleep too you know. I'm doing ok, I will call if I need to, I promise." You hit send grabbing your purse heading to school.

Your day progressed much like your morning, you felt antsy, on edge..like something was going to happen. "Hey y/n! How are you?" You heard looking up seeing Amber walking over "Oh hey, I'm good, just tired." You said rubbing your eyes. "You look like you need a break, do you have plans tonight? Maybe you could come over and watch a movie." She said smiling. You thought about it a minute, you were a bit wary of her since your coffee date but she seemed pretty harmless "yeah, I do need a break. That sounds fun." You smiled "great, let me give you my address." She said grabbing a pen writing it down. "Say about seven?" She asked handing it to you "sounds great, see you then." You smiled as she walked off.

You cleaned up your station getting ready to head home when your phone went off-

You couldn't help but laugh making everyone look at you. "Sorry." You said aloud as everyone went back to what they were doing. You responded back smiling wondering who taught him how to use emoji's-

You put your phone away smiling, his wit was one of the many things you adored about him. You couldn't help wonder what an actual relationship with him would be like. Cuddling on the couch, weekend trips to who cares where...you sighed knowing you would probably never have that with him. You grabbed your purse heading home to get ready hoping that miracles do exist.

"Who are you speaking to brother?" Loki heard Thor ask as he put his phone in his pocket "no one that concerns you." He said pushing past him "you misunderstand, I only wonder who has made you so.....happy." Thor said following him "you would do good to stay out of my affairs brother." Loki hissed looking at him. "Loki please.." Thor said grabbing his arm stopping him "I know we have not had the best relationship.." he started "that's an understatement.." loki mumbled hearing Thor sigh "yes, well i want to be here for you, I only wish for you to be able to speak to me about things as we once did." Thor said watching him.

Loki sighed crossing his arms "so you wish to pry as Odin did." He said flatly glaring at Thor "no, I only wish to be the brother I should have been." Thor said "I understand I have treated you poorly before, but I only wish for you to allow me to be a part of your life." Thor told him. Loki sighed dropping his arms "well, I do appreciate your honesty Thor, i shall consided it. And as far as who I was talking to.." Loki trailed off trying to decide what he should say "they do make me happy, and i am.....surprised by it." Loki said walking towards the common room. "How so?" Thor asked following him "I have never felt this way, about anyone. You know my past Thor, I am not known for my monogamy." Loki smirked walking into the kitchen.

"Oh I know it well, stories of your exploits flooded the realm in our youth." Thor laughed sitting on the bar stool. "Well i...I cannot think of being with another, nor them. I have this....need to be with them." Loki said setting the kettle on the stove. "It sounds like you are in love brother." Thor smiled "don't be preposterous, me..in love?" Loki snarked grabbing a mug. "Let me ask you this brother, if something were to happen to this person, what lengths would you go to to ensure they are taken care of?" Thor asked watching him. "I would burn all the realms to ash, and kill anyone who stood in my way." Loki said sternly seeing Thor's smile widen. "Do not look at me like that." Loki said filling his cup "my only advice to you brother is don't fight it, you deserve happiness." Thor said standing up.

Before Loki could rebuttle Thor strode from the room leaving him with his thoughts. Did he love you? He knew he wanted to be with you every minute of the day, you haunted his dreams at night...but love? He leaned on the counter contemplating Thor's words, love was never an emotion he was afforded in his life, moving from bed to bed he had always kept his emotions locked away, and could you ever love him in return. "Hey Rudolph? Having an existential crisis?" Tony asked pulling him from his thoughts "Stark...you would do well to hold your tongue lest I cut it out." Loki snapped storming from the room. "Well ok then." Tony said going to the fridge. Loki walked into his room, sitting in his chair he decided to take his own advice, he needed to tell you how he felt and pick up what pieces may fall.....

"Hey! You made it!" Amber said stepping aside letting you in. "Thanks for inviting me, I do need to clear my head." You said watching her close the door locking it. "We all need a break now and then. Come sit, I was about to make popcorn." She said guiding you to the living room. You weren't sure what movie it was, you couldn't focus as your mind kept wandering back to Loki, how he was so caring with you, staying the night, making you breakfast. You sat back thinking about your arrangement, realizing he had broken almost every one of his own rules making you smile.

"Ooo, who are you thinking about?" Amber asked looking at you. "Hm? Oh..no one." You laughed sitting up. "Mm...I don't believe you. That's the look of a girl in love." She smiled eating a piece of popcorn. "Well...ok there is someone, but.." you trailed off looking down "I don't think he would ever feel the same about me." You sighed running a hand through your hair "nonsense your a catch, he would be a total idiot if he didn't." She said making you laugh "thanks, I'm not that great though." You smiled. "Well, I think you are." She smirked making you feel a little uneasy. "Did you want some tea or anything?" She asked standing up. "No, I should probably go, school tomorrow and all." You smiled standing. "Oh come on, just have one cup with me and you can go." She smiled widely "ok, just one." You said seeing her bounce up and down "ok, you sit I'll be right back." She smiled running to the kitchen.

She came back shortly with two cups and some sugar on a tray "here, this ones yours." She smiled handing it to you. You took a sip grimacing at the bitter taste "here, I may not have sweetened it enough." She said sliding the sugar to you. Adding a few teaspoons didn't really make it better but you didn't want to be rude so you hurried and downed it. "Well thank you for the invite and the tea, but I think I should probably head home." You said setting your cup down "aww already? Can't you stay a bit longer?" She asked setting her cup down. "No, I really should get some rest, i had a long weekend." You smiled. You went to stand up feeling light headed "are you ok?" She asked grabbing your arm "yeah, I'm fine. I think im just..." you trailed off, your head feeling fuzzy. "Here, sit down." Your heard her say but it was muffled.

You sat down rubbing your temples feeling your eyelids droop "i...I really...i..." you started when your vision began to tunnel, dark spots appearing at the edge of your vision. "M..my p..phone...call...lo..." you tried, your tongue heavy in your mouth. "Oh, you won't need that." You heard, looking up seeing Amber standing over you smiling "w..what are you.." you trailed off. Trying to stand your legs gave out as you fell to the floor. You watched as Amber kneeled down looking at you "don't worry y/n, I'll take good care of him." She smiled as the darkness enveloped you.

Loki sat in the common room reading, looking up seeing it was past midnight he pulled his phone out to make sure he didn't miss your message when Thor walked in "Brother, what are you doing awake?" He asked but Loki kept looking at his phone "is your device working Thor?" He asked suddenly looking up at him. "I believe so. Let me see." He said pulling it out he dialed Loki's number hearing it ring. "Hmm...odd." loki said setting his phone down. "What troubles you?" Thor asked sitting down. "Well, the..person we spoke of earlier was supposed to text me when they returned home and they have not, it's not like them." Loki said looking at Thor. "Maybe they were tired and fell asleep? Try calling them tomorrow, I'm sure all is well." Thor said smiling. "As much as I hate it you are probably right. I shall try tomorrow." Loki sighed setting his book down.

He got up heading to his room "and loki, I meant what I said earlier, I am happy for you, and if you need to talk i am here." Thor said as Loki nodded and left the room. He made it to his floor opening his door he pulled out his phone again, still seeing nothing from you. He sat on the bed deciding to text you "Darling you have probably fallen asleep but I wanted to check in. Message me when you get this. ~L~" He typed setting his phone on the nightstand lieing down. It wasn't like you to not check in with him, you were diligent about it. Remembering what you had told him earlier about feeling anxious made him a little uneasy but he was confident you would call if you needed him. He closed his eyes trying to rest hoping he would hear from you soon....

💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚

@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @sinsandguilt @high-functioning-lokipath @mochie85 @slytherclaw1227 @jaidenhawke @budugu @xorpsbane @schizonephilim @lokidokieokie @holdmytesseract @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokixryss @asgardianprincess1050 @tallseaweed @aniar4wniak @sekaishell @lokispetblogs @loopsisloops @trojanaurora @lonadane @all-envy-suyu @yelkmelk @stupidthoughtsinwriting @123forgottherest @silverfire475 @bbmommy0902 @goblingirlsarah @commanding-officer @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @mcufan72 @glitterylokislut @tjellisworld @kkdvkyya @cueloki @daggers-and-mischief @sititran @witchyblue @verycollectivecreator @nixymarvelkins @chantsdemarins @shinraski @usagishira @nightshadelm @filthyhiddles @dukes2581 @assemblingavenger @huntress-artemiss @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12

[evita-shelby]

No one has to know

Gale 'Buck' Cleven x nurse!oc, Diane Shelby

Cw: cheating/infidelity, secret relationship friends to secret lovers, consensual cheating, mentions of canon/irl deaths and captures

Somewhat inspired by 'no one has to know' aka that song from mrs maisel.

Buck had come to look for Meatball and found him in sleeping under a big tree on her lap as she sat there on an empty sack.

She stands out from the rest with her strange eyes, one blue one brown and that knack for somehow always knowing everything before you even tell her. That last part made her a hell of a nurse, or so he’d heard when one of the medics assuring him his men were in good hands.

Nurse Shelby, a Red Cross Volunteer from some other part of England and something that told him she’d never wanted for anything growing up.

“Just adventure, Major Cleven.” The girl says sitting on her uniform cape with his dog laying his head on her lap and acting as if she was his real owner. “My name is Diane, but everyone calls me Di.”

“Buck.” He said joining her with his dog between them, he hasn’t had a moment of peace since their first mission. “That’s Meatball.”

“I know, just being proper with you.” She said relinquishing his dog back to him, but the damn mutt refused to leave her lap. “Does your girl back home like dogs, Buck?”

“Yeah, always wanted one of these growing up.” He smiles remembering the letter he got from Marge with her reaction to Meatball. She couldn’t wait for both of them to come home.

He wondered how’d she react to knowing all these girls here throwing themselves at him like they did at home.

“Lucky woman. My boyfriend came back with a canary he got when he first shipped out. Called it Vera so he could say he has two birds.” The nurse mentions and he has no idea what that means.

“He had a second bird?” he asks assuming the boyfriend had meant him.

“In some parts here, we call girlfriends birds.” She smiles at his ignorance and continues stroking Meatball’s fur. “I was, well, am the second bird. Our Vera lives with his sister in Manchester now that I’m working here.”

No harm in being just friends, he thinks with relief.

Diane has her sailor; he has Marge at home.

No harm in being just friends.

“Does Marge know?” Bucky asks when he watches the little nurse laughing with her friends in a peach-colored dress.

She looks lovely, her lips red and the locket give her a dreamy look. Like the image you have of the girl waiting for her fiancée to return in those war movies.

“Yeah, just friends. Diane’s got a fiancé, a sailor named Tom Bennett from Manchester.” The blond man answered taking his eyes off her.

“Buck, you know there’s a risk even if the both of you have someone.” Johnny Egan was not made for monogamy, he had sweethearts everywhere and his Josephine knew and here he was warning him not to fuck things up with Marge.

He wouldn’t, he’s sure of it.

There was no harm in being just friends with her.

“I have Marge, she has her Tom. Sometimes people are just friends, Bucky.” He assures him and yet Gale Cleven didn’t stop looking at her even when Bucky began to sing.

June becomes mid-July and Diane is officially known as the other owner of Meatball ---when Buck isn’t on the base.

Both dog and owner had become cherished friends to her and while she was attracted to Buck ---tall blonds were her weakness--- Di was perfectly content being his friend and only that.

Marjorie looked and sounded lovely, and he had the politeness to say Tom reminded him of Bucky. They had other people and while infidelity was the least of anyone’s problems these days, Buck did not give himself the permission other men had gained from their wives and sweethearts.

Even Diane had told Tom when he first shipped out that he was free to fuck who he wanted because sometimes you need companionship and a good lay to survive this fucking war. Tommy had been quite the Casanova before the war and it didn’t surprise her to know he had fucked a girl he met at the docks when the Exeter gave him his first taste in mortality in 1940.

But she’s not my Lady Di waiting for me at home, he had said when he confessed it. He loved her, she loved him except now she was the fair maiden to his brave knight. Just as Marjorie is to Buck, Josephine to Bucky and everyone with someone waiting at home for them.

Besides, she’s perfectly fine with being just friends with Buck, been so long since a guy only wanted to be friends with her.

Besides it won’t be long before he goes on that mission he won’t ever come back from. The witch had seen it when he came back from his mission earlier and smiled when he saw her sitting under the same tree where they met.

She’d surprised him with a catalogue of luxury leather collars and matching leashes and pretended everything was fine.

“You don’t have to get him anything for being a nuisance, Di.” He said leaning against the tree and their shoulders brushed each other’s slightly.

“I don’t mind it, it helps the soldiers and civilians to see him about. They love spoiling him and he loves the attention. He’s going to be a handful for you when your tour of duty is over.” Di said as she showed him a catalogue of dog collars and harnesses from a local. “The collar is the least I could do for letting me care for your dog.”

Meatball had the collar he’d given him, and a vest made to allow him roam the base freely with the Red Cross badge ---American unfortunately--- and the 100th Bomb Group so they knew who to return him to.

He needed a nice leather collar and matching leash for when she or Buck takes him off base, and hopefully returns to America with his owner.

“They look expensive, I don’t want to put you in the red for a gift.” He points at the price of the collar they had picked.

“Oh, trust me, I’d have to buy the entire shop to get into trouble. Besides, the shop owners need the money more than I do.” Diane turns to look at him and finds herself struck by how beautiful he looks sitting here with her with the sunlight painting his blond hair golden and his eyes as blue as the sea.

She really likes him, and she’s always had the problem of falling hard and fast for a boy. Especially when he is so kind and thoughtful and so strangely principled.

And yet he like her knows something’s changed in the air as he leans in with a dreamy look in his eyes and lips that tell her how good they’d feel against hers.

But he has Marjorie and she has Tom, so Diane bursts the little bubble that surrounds them before they do something they will regret.

“We should go, someone ought to be looking for either of us.” Diane said as both pretend nothing happened and they’re just leaving at a perfectly normal time and don’t have the afternoon free.

He dreams of her and Marge now.

Buck had been right about the risk and perhaps he shouldn’t have let her be so close to Meatball, but the dog’s too attached to her now.

He likes sitting with her under the tree, talking to her and pretend they aren’t here for a while. He likes her, even if some find her eyes unnerving and are put off by her talent for tarot reading.

Somehow that explained how she always knew what to do in the medic tent, always knowing what her patients had and needed.

The Major barely knows a thing about her and the same goes for her, and yet he feels as comfortable with her as he feels with Marge. He tells her things he can’t find the words to tell Marge and she understands them fully because she shares the burden of war he has.

It was a dangerous thing, and he’d only realized how dangerous it was when they chose the new collar for Meatball. He had fallen for Diane, something that he hadn’t believed could happen when he loves Marge and she loves her sailor.

He would’ve kissed her if she hadn’t stopped. It had happened so naturally so gradually, somehow he forgot about his Marjorie back home and his promise to her and himself.

Gale Cleven had never been the type to stray and yet this sunny spot in this dreary place had him at the risk of betraying his girl.

Buck knows what he must do, and tells himself it is the right choice as he readies himself for another mission. A mission she claims won’t go wrong.

When he comes back, Meatball is wearing his new leather collar and the leash is left on his bed. He feels guilty for the decision he’s made, but better a ruined friendship now than two ruined relationships later.

The next missions go just as well, no losses even if they sustain some damage. One doesn’t even happen and yet gets counted as one making them all more optimistic about arriving to mission #25 much sooner and ,most of all, alive.

When he sees her again its August and she is as friendly as ever, taking a break under the tree after a busy day at the triage. She was on high demand now especially when all her seemingly meaningless predictions came true.

Last he heard some of the more superstitious boys had begun asking her how the next missions would go, and now Diane was the most popular girl on the base.

“I haven’t thanked you for Meatball’s collar,” he says feeling the loss of their friendship a little more now that he’s standing before her.

“You didn’t have to, I know why you’ve stopped meeting me here. Your Marjorie is a very lucky woman, Buck.” She gives a small smile in return and doesn’t gesture for him to sit with her as he had been doing these two nearly three months.

“Your Tom is a lucky one as well. I had to remind Curt you have your sailor. Said he’d marry you if all missions went as good as these have been.” He doesn’t know why he mentions that. He had not found it as funny as his friends, Curt knew nothing about Diane save that she was good luck and pretty and daughter of a politician.

The knowing look in Bucky’s eyes had claimed it was jealousy, as if he’d ever felt jealous of Diane’s fiancé.

“I get several proposals every week, I suppose if it gives them a reason to come back to, I won’t stop them from dreaming.” There is grimace she tries to hide and yet he’s come to know her well enough to know what it means.

Bad news.

She’d made that face when she was asked about the first try at Warnemunde resulted in the loss of a fort and all its crew. She’d done it when the boys had left to share the news with everyone else at the club and she tried to melt away from the spotlight.

“How bad is the next one going to be?” Buck loses his resolve to stay away and sits with her to comfort her at knowing she cannot change what she sees, or else she’d done it already.

“Really bad by the looks of my reading. Mission will be achieved but at a great cost.” Her mismatched eyes tell him she’s not telling him the whole truth.

Maybe she might be a real psychic and saw more than what she claims, but it doesn’t take a psychic to know most of the boys enlisted here won’t come home.

“If I don’t make it, promise me you’ll take care of him. You don’t have to send him to Marge if you don’t want to, he can join you and the canary in Manchester or Birmingham or wherever you and your Tom go after the war.” It is a solemn vow, entrusting her with Meatball who helps him and everyone in this hell stay sane.

“I promise, Buck.” She reaches out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze and he doesn’t stop her.

This time when they find themselves in the same predicament as before they don’t stop.

Her lips are soft and sweet, awakening a distant memory of Marge's and yet he doesn’t stop until they’re too out of breath to do more than rest their heads against each others in comfort and in fear that they won’t every see each other again.

No one would know about it nor the promise they’d made just as people on base hardly knew about this hidden little piece of heaven they had here.

He might die with this secret tomorrow and somehow that makes it better.

Regensburg goes as terribly as she’d seen in her readings.

90 men all either made prisoners of war or killed in action, boys younger than her and only a handful as old as her eldest brother.

But Buck’s not among them as she’d feared, he’d made it to Algeria with Bucky and those lucky enough to make it another day.

They’re to return soon, and she is afraid he won’t meet her at their tree after that kiss.

When he left to Regensburg the feel and taste of his lips had felt as present as they had the night before.

He was so unlike Tom, her Tom who she’d managed to see for a day sometime in July. He’d been jealous of her mentioning Buck, and with good reason.

And yet remembering she’d given him a free pass to sleep with a woman if he felt the need to do so, he had extended the same courtesy to him.

Because he believes she wouldn’t stoop so low as to shag an American, least of all an American with a girlfriend.

Now Di had kissed Buck and she’s okay if he never comes to the tree again because what matters is that he comes back alive.

When they return she’s too busy to even see him except for a few seconds at the triage. They’d come back the same way they left only this time with less losses.

Still too many if you ask any of them. The 100th had a one to 4 odds of survival for every mission, but such slaughter was deemed necessary for the war as was the incessant and indiscriminate night bombing the RAF did.

Buck had refused a medal, she’d heard. Reminded her of how her father threw his in the Cut, likely for the same reason as Buck did.

When she finally goes to their tree late in the evening, she finds him there waiting for her. Solemn as the grave, eyes red from crying.

“Curt was shot down, we were hoping he’d been one of the captured, but there wasn’t even body recovered at the wreckage.” It wasn’t just numbers to him, they had been his friends, people he cared for, people who had lives and dreams and loved in all the different ways that exist.

Curt had been with him since basic training, almost as close to him as Bucky and Bill and his crewmates.

Men are told not to grieve, not to cry and yet they grieve and cry as all humans do.

She held Tom as he grieved his father, as he grieved the boy who’d left and for all his friends and crewmates that didn’t make it.

“I’m so sorry, Buck.” She goes to him, unsure if she should hug him because that’s the best sort of comfort she can offer. She hugs him, holding him together as he lets himself fall apart.

He does more than grieve, he does what everyone in his shoes has done: seek comfort in the only way you can forget everything and everyone for a moment.

Buck cradled her face in his hands just as Tom has done all those times and kissed her like he loved her.

And it dawns on her, that she loves him. Something far worse than fucking another man was loving another man.

“Please, Di,” his voice breaks and he begs her to make him forget the hell they live in.

Tom would never know about this just as Marjorie wouldn’t either.

It is not like the times before with their respective sweethearts, its rough and desperate and something they’ll surely regret and yet this sweetest of sins cannot be called anything else but love.

“I think I love you.” He whispers to her, admitting this great sin that somehow weighs on him as much as that of knowing it is people he kills with those bombs.

“I think I love you too.” She pressed her lips to his again and pretending no one else existed beyond them.

No one would know this ever happened, and it was better for everyone else except them two.

It becomes a habit, after particularly terrible missions. Them seeking comfort and love and understanding in the only slice of heaven here. Just them and their tree.

“When I was dancing with Meatball, I kept wishing I could have the balls to dance with you, Di.” He admits as they kiss against their tree.

She won’t say what she saw, and he knows its terrible, bad or worse than Regensburg by the way she tries not to cry.

“Then take me dancing when you come back, Major.” Di laughs quietly as they sit against the tree like they did that first day they met. “Tom won’t mind.”

And Marge won’t know why.

He never wanted to be like his father and yet, here he was in love with two women and one as oblivious to the other just like his mom had been.

“You’re not your father, Buck, you won’t ever be like him. And if you want, this can be the last time we ever do this.” She always knows what he’s thinking, claims its part of her gifts.

He thinks its because she’s come to know him just as good as Bucky and Marge have.

He knows her as good as her Tom does. Tom who is a tall blond man she keeps in her locket and doesn’t know she loves him as well.

No one would ever know this ever even happened, just him and Diane. And somehow, that made it all the sweeter.

“I’ll give you an answer when I come back from Bremen, Di.” That night he carves their initials on the bark of the tree.

On October 8th of 1943, Major Gale ‘Buck’ Cleven’s fort, Our Baby, is shot down and all 10 men inside are made prisoners of war.

It is October 9th, 1946 that he comes back to that tree ,both are happily married and know their time together will always remain a secret.

When Buck comes to take Meatball back one last time, he wonders what could’ve been if they’d been free to love each other outside of the shade of their tree.

A/n: thank you for reading!!!!

If you find Diane Shelby sounds familiar, it is because she is actually an oc taken from my Tom Bennett x Peaky Blinders! oc for my cringe af world on fire and my peaky blinder fanfic crossover.

Au where Buck and Diane do get together: no one but you