#personally I would like him even dirtier. make it look like he spent all day in his lil artificer tinkering station

[fortheghostsinmycloset]

"Gortash looks like a 40-something who never grew out of their emo phase, Gortash looks like he's never bathed in his life, Gortash looks like Noctis in his midlife crisis" - yeah, AND?? take me to the MCR reunion tour, daddy

[rae-writes]

dirty secret(s)

Levi x cam!reader

wc : 0.7k

warnings : nsfw

synopsis : Levi had a dirty secret. You had an even dirtier one.

a/n : honestly don't know how this thought popped into my head but my gods am I fucking glad it did-

While Levi usually thought of himself as scum of the Devildom at most normal hours of the day, he thought he was even scummier when he locked himself in his room, headphones pressed snugly against his ears, with his sweatpants kicked off to the floor. 

The slick sounds filling his ears were absolutely vile— in the best kind of way. Plastered over his main monitor, lighting up his flushed and sweaty face, was the sight of someone bouncing on a pretty dragon dildo; it’d become his guilty pleasure to get on the site and watch them get off- someone he found by complete accident as he was scrolling online. 

The only thing he knew about them was they never showed their face, they always had a blank black sheet as a background, and they never talked. 

But it didn’t really matter when he was fisting his cock at the pace they were riding their toy, biting down on his tongue harshly to hide his moans when they came, forcing him to paint his abdomen white as he came right after. 

No, it didn’t really matter— especially when it was just Levi’s dirty secret. 

Until it wasn’t. 

You weren’t supposed to swing by his room that day, but you had some time and thought it would be best spent with Levi- only he wasn’t in his room. 

The only active sound that had been in his room was the whirring of his desktop. You only meant to shut it off- you weren’t supposed to see the way the screen lit back up with the sight of someone bent over, faux cum spilling out of their hole. 

You weren’t supposed to find out his dirty secret— but you did. And it became your dirtier secret.

Because the person on the video was you. 

It started off as a joke- just a little bet you lost with Asmo. When your first video got so much attention, you curiously did another, just to see what would happen; the money sent in as tips and donations made you make another video, and then another, and another. 

After a while, you spiffed up your page and made it all pretty and official— it became fun. Alluring. 

And then you found out Levi was watching and it changed everything. Suddenly, there was a particular heat constantly pooling in your stomach that wouldn't go away and your videos became centered around what you thought Levi would like. 

He was none the wiser. 

He didn’t suspect a single thing, not even when his favorite (and only) porn creator began making videos in anime cosplay of his favorite characters or began using tentacle related toys instead or made videos of them trying to not cum while they played his favorite video games. 

It all flew right over Levi’s head— right up until their latest video, posted only a few seconds ago. 

For the first time ever, they weren’t using a black backdrop. It was eye-catching— dark, but with bright leds. The shimmer of what seemed to be water washed over their bare lower half as high-pitched moans left them, hand desperately shoving a new toy in and out of their hole; it was another ‘tentacle’ but it was plain, dark colored, with scales carved in to create ridges for extra friction. 

The more he hyper fixated on them, the more things he started to notice: their toy kind of looked like his tail, the lighting looked exactly like his room’s, and the hoodie they wore…

With a choked moan, Levi’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull as he finally realizes he’s watching you— you in his room with his hoodie on, getting off on a toy that was meant to replicate his tail. 

And as the increase of your moans flowed through his headphones, getting louder and whinier until you were cumming with a choked cry of what could’ve been his name had you been just a little bit louder, Levi was practically sprinting through the halls of the house before slamming open the door to his room. 

And there you were, phone tossed aside on his bed as you laid back on his pillows with your legs spread and shiny with your cum, toy tossed aside to the ground. 

“Was waiting for you to figure it out...wanna feel the real thing, Levi…come play with me?”

[thissortofsorcery]

30. “this is my husband/boyfriend”

SURPRISE!!!!!! Damn, you all sent me these prompts over a year ago, and I really dropped the ball. I finally got around to writing now that I'm trying to get back into writing slowly after taking a long break. Writing about the boys made me so so happy, I missed them so much. I hope you enjoy this, even a year later!

----

Soft prompt number 30: This is my boyfriend

Billy flicks the turn signal to park the Camaro on the curb, trying to ignore the anxious clench of his stomach. 

He hears the crunch of the leaves under the tires; the sidewalk is littered with them, yellow and orange and brown, picked from the branches of the trees by the wind. Fall is in full swing in early November, and Billy shivers at the cold air coming through the open window. He’s less annoyed with the cold than he used to be back when he first moved to Hawkins, but it’s still terrible. He’s bundled up in enough layers under his leather jacket as it is; Joyce wouldn’t let him leave the house without putting a sweater on, rambling about the weather in Indianapolis. 

Billy double-checks the address Steve sent him on the GPS needlessly — the university library stands tall and imposing to his left, the red bricks of the building looking faded in the watery light coming through the heavy clouds. It’s a two-story building that stretches wide across the lawn, with large windows and glass doors on the entrance. 

Steve is waiting for him on the steps.

He looks up toward Billy’s direction as soon as he steps out of the Camaro, familiar with the squeaky noise the door makes when it’s opened. There’s a grin stretching his lips wide, white teeth showing and eyes crinkling, and Steve climbs down the library steps two at a time. His gaze only leaves Billy to glance down at his own feet, trying not to trip on the steps.

Their bodies meet with a thud in the middle of the lawn, Steve’s arms coming down around his back tightly, and Billy sighs as he sinks his face into Steve’s neck and breathes him in. He smells just as Billy remembers.

The cold wind doesn’t break through the warmth of Steve’s arms, and Billy’s body relaxes, leaning his weight on Steve almost completely. Steve only hugs him tighter, holding him up easily — like he’s always done.

The tight fist in Billy’s chest lets go, maybe for the first time since Steve left Hawkins to go to college in September.

Rationally, Billy knew Steve wasn’t far, with Indianapolis being only a couple hours away from Hawkins, but not seeing Steve every day at school was more jarring than Billy had anticipated when Steve graduated in May. 

Billy knows from personal experience how insular Hawkins is. If moving from San Diego to a small town had been a shock, he can only imagine that moving from Hawkins to Indianapolis must feel the same, only in reverse.

Steve’s world expanded far beyond the comfortable bubble they lived in during the summer, and he met a host of interesting people he told Billy about during their calls, making friends quickly. Billy was happy for him; Steve still had some insecurities from the year he spent friendless aside from Nancy Wheeler, and Billy was glad he had people who saw Steve the way he did.

But there was still a niggling voice on the back of Billy’s mind, insisting Steve would get sick of him eventually. It fades down to silence now, blown out like a candle by Steve’s presence and his warmth, by the way he smiles at Billy like there’s no one else he’d rather put his eyes on.

“I missed you,” Steve says, and then he presses a kiss to Billy’s lips — with all the sweetness and hunger that Billy’s always felt from Steve, the feeling that Billy clings to when Steve’s not there, like an old sweatshirt that still holds his scent. Billy doesn’t wait a second before licking at Steve’s lips, turning the kiss dirtier than it should be in a public space, but Billy doesn’t care. Steve’s hands come to cradle Billy’s face, but not to push him away (they never do). Steve’s fingertips catch on Billy’s jaw, dig into his hair, until he can’t stop a shudder from going down his spine. Only then does Steve pull away, a smug smirk clinging to his spit-slick lips.

“Dickhead,” Billy grumbles, knees still weak, and Steve huffs a quiet laugh. Billy raises his eyes to meet Steve’s, eyelashes fluttering, and it’s like a punch to the gut and the first gulp of air after coming up from underwater. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” Steve says, but he doesn’t move an inch away from where his nose is grazing Billy’s, so the words are spoken onto Billy’s lips. “Let me show you—” 

A wolf whistle interrupts Steve’s words, and Billy sees Steve’s cheeks turn crimson before he pulls away to look back towards the library. He can’t help but scowl at having his moment disrupted — he wasn’t done with Steve.

“Hey, Harrington!” An unfamiliar voice calls, three college kids standing by the library steps, grinning with mirth. Billy identifies the one in the middle as the one who spoke, the only guy in the group, with a douchey beanie and vintage glasses, the embodiment of the college students Billy imagined luring Steve’s attention away from him. Billy notes the breadth of his shoulders and his square jaw, and his stomach turns sour. “Who’s your friend?” 

This is what Billy’s been afraid of. The demotion from boyfriend to situationship, the “I want to see other people” said into a phone late at night. Being brushed off in front of Steve’s new, interesting friends. 

Billy stands up straight and squares his shoulders, tilts his chin up so he can look at the group down his nose; the same stance he takes when he’s facing down something he wants to bowl over. Something he’s scared of.

But Steve turns back to look at Billy, and the warmth in his eyes hasn’t diminished at all. His thumb strokes Billy’s cheek before he slides his hands down Billy’s arms, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. When Steve answers, he’s grinning, wide and happy, teeth showing — the same smile Billy saw all summer.

“This is Billy,” Steve says. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

And Billy breathes out, the weight of his doubts falling from his shoulders and being brushed away in the autumn wind.

Steve squeezes his hand, and Billy squeezes back.

[detectivehannibal]

Pretty as a Picture

__

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Implications of smut.

A/N: Why do I keep disappearing from this blog?? I’ve had this idea for FOREVER. Fun fact about me, I sometimes recycle my works from other blogs. So if you’re curious, this is from my Harry Potter blog @seriouslysnape and here’s the original work.

Word Count: 1,738

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.”

__

On the surface, surprises don’t really seem to come to mind when you think about Hannibal Lecter. The esteemed psychiatrist always came off to you as an open book. He was usually willing to share all aspects of his life with you, which naturally left you believing that there weren’t any secrets lurking further within himself. 

Oh, how wrong you were.

Despite all the things that you didn’t know about Hannibal, you knew him well enough to know the sorts of things that he has a fancy for and the things he doesn’t. As high maintenance and temperamental as he is, he is shockingly easy to please. It’s a bit of an ironic statement, but still the truth nonetheless. 

You could gift Hannibal with something as simple as a pair of socks or with something as extravagant as a brand new luxury suit, and he’d always have the same genuine, appreciative reaction. If something came from you, he would surely love it with his whole heart. 

This gift, however, was on a whole new level.

The idea had honestly come to you at random when you were brainstorming birthday present possibilities. Even though he would never admit it, he was a bit bored of you buying him a new tie for every occasion. He had a tie for every color, pattern, and even he could ever dream of. You wanted to think outside of the box this time. You wanted to come up with something that he would never ever think of. 

On the flip side, you also wanted to be sure that it was something that he could have for a long time and something that would have some real meaning to him. You could always go down the culinary appliance route, but he already had absolutely everything he’d ever possibly want or need. You were in a bit of a rut, but that’s when you got a wonderful thought.

Hannibal didn’t own many personal pictures. Most of the photos in his house were custom made art pieces that were worth more than the price of your left leg alone. Hannibal never struck you as the kind of man to have plethoras of pictures of loved ones, but you still found it odd. It’d be a win-win in your eyes. You’d supply Hannibal with some photos to hold on to, and it’d be a thoughtful gift.

Then your plan took a sultry turn.

You had picked out a large photo album that would match the aesthetic of his house, and an album that would have plenty of pages to fill up. You kept it stashed away in your closet until you were ready to put pictures inside of it when another idea came to mind. 

What if you made a sexy photo album for him?

At first, you were a little sheepish at the idea. Boudoir style pictures showing off only the dirtiest of contents? It seemed like that might be too much and even a bit weird. The longer you thought about it, though, the more and more the idea sounded good. Maybe Hannibal wouldn’t necessarily jump at the gift, but at least he’d have something to jerk off to when you weren’t around.

You assembled as many outfits as you could, some coming from your personal collection and some were purchased as a specialty to the production of the photos. You’d need some help actually having the photos taken, which is why you recruited one of your closest friends.

You could’ve had them professionally done, but you weren’t sure how comfortable you were with a photographer and group of modeling experts studying over your naked body for an entire day. Your friend was stoked for the project and dedicated a whole afternoon while Hannibal was at work to help you out. 

You took probably about a hundred pictures, all with varying poses, outfits, and locations around the house. You even took a few more innocent photos of you just smiling or doing candid things. You figured that you needed some sweet to balance out the spicy. 

You decorated the pages to add some pop and flare, ultimately thrilled with the final product. Hannibal’s birthday was only a few days away, and you were itching to show him what you had made for him. 

“You’re fidgety tonight.” Hannibal spoke from where he was laid out underneath you on the living room sofa. 

It was true, you had been extremely jittery for the last hour and a half, trying to compose yourself. Hannibal had told you that he had wanted nothing more than to have a quiet evening in for his birthday, which you found as a blessing because he’d definitely want to stay around the house after seeing his gift.

“Sorry. Just excited.” You admitted, seeing this as the perfect opportunity.

He raised a brow, looking down at your frame that was practically trembling with explosive animation. 

“I feel as if I don’t need to inform you that my birthday comes around every year,” He joked; “What’s gotten you so elated?”

You smiled up at him with a brightness that was almost blinding. You scrambled off of the sofa at your cue.

“Wait right here. I’ll be back.” You announced as you dashed up the stairs.

Hannibal chuckled to himself, already guessing as to what you were plotting. You returned shortly after with the picture book in hand, complete with a bow on top. You sat with your legs crossed in front of him, eagerly handing it to him.

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.” You explained.

Hannibal sat up from where he was settled into the cushions, eyeing over the cover carefully. It was a beautifully crafted book, the dark leather was absolutely gorgeous. He pushed the bow off of the sides, opening to the very first page to see a sweet note you had written him, signed with your signature and all. He turned to the first page to actually contain photos on it, and a smile of pure joy spread on his face.

You had put all of the non-sexual pictures in the first two pages to disguise the actual reason for the book. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different casual outfits and in different places. 

“Darling, these are wonderful,” He complimented; “They’re stunning, they-”

His heartbeat quickened when he made it to the third page, and he noticed they had taken on a new theme. The scandalous photos were enough to knock him speechless. For the first time ever, you saw Hannibal’s cheeks break out into a deep blush. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing one of his white work shirts with all the buttons undone. The only thing you were wearing underneath was one of his ties settled between your breasts. 

In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, red colored set that almost made him faint right then and there.

He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and you went back to your original worry that this was a bad idea. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling, because Hannibal Lecter always had something to say. 

Your voice was thick with uncertainty as you spoke to break the silence.

“Hannibal, do you...like them?” You wondered aloud.

His eyes never steered clear from the book in his hands and the photos presented in front of him. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on the massive kitchen counter and giving a look so seductive that it made his belly flutter. The sight of you naked in his culinary world where he spent so much time was a sight to behold.

“[Y/N], I love them. These photographs...they’re beautiful, well produced, and so, so sexy.” He breathed out.

You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of anticipation as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, his hot blush growing even deeper onto his cheeks. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming dirtier than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.

His lips parted slightly ajar as he loomed over them. Your waiting was patient as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. Your suspicions had been correct after all. 

He was going to rock your world.

Hannibal usually didn’t try to make the first move. He always wanted you to initiate sex first. He believed that sex was a passionate, romantic connection that shouldn’t always be fueled by burning want and desire from outside resources. Based on the way he was looking at you though, you could tell that he wanted you BADLY. 

He nonchalantly rolled his hips forward to create some kind of friction. The sneaky grin on your face was almost maddening. The way that your body leaned in and your lips brushed over his just ever so was intoxicating. Your lips traveled to his ear as you purposefully let out a wanton moan to tantalize him. 

“Touch me, Hanni. I know you want to.” You coaxed.

That was all he needed. 

Hannibal lunged forward, smothering your body with his and suffocating you with hot kisses. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you. 

“What are the chances of you wearing one of those outfits under this sweater?” He said in a steamy voice.

You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. When Hannibal didn’t want you to go anywhere, then you wouldn’t. You bit down on your lip in a seductive way, breathing out your response to send him into full on love making mode.

“Why don’t you find out?”

[buckyownsmylife]

Lucky - Logan Howlett smut

The one where Logan catches you touching yourself when you’re supposed to be his.

Warnings: masturbation (f), oral sex (f), slight voyeurism, playful possessiveness, reader is a dumbass, Logan is in love, p in v, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a single spank, kind of a cum kink?, creampie

A/N: If a man tries to control when you can orgasm without your consent, please ignore him and get yourself another one. Logan here is obviously jesting and even if he were to create such a rule, he’d only enforce it with his girlfriend’s acceptance, of course. Day 4 of kinktober and the prompts were masturbation + eating out.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

As soon as I hear my room’s door close behind me, the stress of the day started to leave my tense muscles. Just being surrounded by my stuff, that I’d been carefully collecting since my arrival in Charles’ academy four months before, was enough to send the message to my brain: you’re home, relax. No one is going to disturb you here.

It wasn’t necessarily true, of course, which was one of the cons of living in the same place that I worked, but the probability of one of my students coming all the way here to ask for help, advice, or any other sort of guidance was extremely low, thankfully. As 5pm approached, the youngsters too began to relax, opting to look for social activities or hobbies to occupy their time instead of training and studying. In all my time here, no one except teachers had come to bother me in my own bedroom, and even that was extremely rare. Everyone seemed to understand the need for some alone time after a day of responsibilities.

So that’s why this room that was designated to me had this ability to instantly make me feel better, I guess. Up until now, the only other place that managed to make me feel so safe wasn’t actually an environment, but a person.

Logan.

We’d been some sort of unspoken thing for a while now, only about a month. Despite his usual grumpiness that seemed to be directed to keep me away from him right after my arrival, the fact that I didn’t seem to care quickly made him curious, and this curiosity soon became a particular interest in seeing me underneath him, moaning pleasurably in his bed.

He made me feel safe, and the truth was that I didn’t care that after a month, we still hadn’t decided to give a name to what we had. All that mattered to me was that he wanted to spend time with me too and that he treated me right. 

But he’d been gone for the last four days on a special mission assigned by Professor X, so that meant that my current situation couldn’t really be blamed solely on my student’s behavior for the day. Oh, no. This particular tension came after my body had grown accustomed to being treated to multiple orgasms night after night, only to be abruptly denied those treats.

I missed him. I hadn’t had to touch myself in over a month and I’d spent the last few nights depriving myself of it because I knew I could never give myself the kind of pleasure that Logan could. Only he wasn’t here, and I was going crazy, especially since no one had any idea of when he would be back.

I needed him.

So I decided to grant me at least some sort of relief, as pathetic as it’d be, in the hopes of calming my longing body. The first thing I did was strip down to nothing. My favorite pampering activity was a nice warm bath after a stressful day of classes, and from Logan’s comments, I knew he liked it when I took the time to lather myself up in essential oils, too. On more than one occasion he commented that it made me smell “good enough to eat”.

It was only after said bath that I laid down on my still-made bed, spread out to appreciate the silkiness of my own skin after a good hydration session. The smell of coconuts from my favorite cream helped to ease me into the right state of mind, that I so desperately needed so I could start softly running my fingers over my thighs without that stupid inner voice that wanted to make me recoil in embarrassment.

I was a grown woman in the privacy of her own room. It was stupid to be timid about needing to touch myself, so I focused on the desire I could feel rising through me, and not on any other pop-up thought that insisted on making its way into my brain.

It became a lot easier when I thought about my lover.

Oh, how I wished Logan was here. He’d love to see me in this position, legs spread open for his eyes to take. Only the thought of his piercing eyes fixated in my naked body was enough to get me wet, and that elicited another memory of him. How he’d groan when the smell of my juices hit his nose, immediately prompting him to get on his knees in front of me and bury his head between my thighs. He’d lap me up eagerly, hungrily, like I was an entire feast dedicated to him after a life of restraint. As passionate a lover as Logan was, I don’t think there was anything he loved more than eating pussy.

If he was here, he’d say mine was the only one that provoked such an animalistic reaction from him. I’d laugh, refusing to believe anything that came out of his mouth when all he could think about was burying himself inside of me, but I’d blush nonetheless. A part of me wanted to believe I was special to him, despite his years and the number of women he’d most certainly laid with, mostly because he was special to me, too. 

But I couldn’t afford this sort of thought, so I opted to focus on the memory of how Logan’s tongue felt against my clit. I let a single finger touch it, trying to mirror the same pattern of movement he’d make. It was nowhere near the same sensation, but it was enough to prompt me to release a little moan of pleasure.

We were starting to get somewhere.

Logan’s P.O.V.

After four long days of fuckery, the only thing I could think about was going back home straight to my girl’s arms. So as soon as we were through the academy’s doors, I took the stairs two at a time to go directly into her room, having memorized her schedule long enough to know that she’d most likely be there. 

No one tried to get in my way. They knew better.

Much to my surprise, as I approached the now familiar doors to her room, a familiar scent engulfed me, prompting me to tune into the sweet sounds that I’d dreamed about these last nights. They were very discreet, but for someone with my enhanced abilities and extreme focus on her body and reactions, it was very obviously there.

Blindly, I reached for her door, slowly pushing it open and welcoming the warmth and overwhelming perfume that I’d come to associate with her presence, especially during the times she was releasing these delicious little moans. Immediately, my ears picked up on another, much dirtier tune: the squelching sounds her fingers elicited from her sweet pussy as she fucked herself.

I almost fell to my knees, as my legs suddenly lost the ability to keep me upright, but I was able to hold myself back just in time. Wouldn’t want to miss the show, especially when it was making me so fucking hard. 

Finally venturing further into the room, I came face to face with the beauty waiting for me. She hadn’t noticed my arrival yet, too preoccupied with her pleasurable activities, her eyes closed shut in concentration as her mouth fell open in that delicious silent scream I liked to swallow so much.

I watched as she touched herself a bit more, attentively looking for the telling signs that she was close to her release, and just when the muscles on her thigh began to clench, I leaned over her and wrapped my hand around her wrist, pulling her fingers from inside her cunt. The surprised gasp she let out made me smirk.

I sucked on her fingers, enjoying my first taste of her after what felt like forever. A deep groan erupted from my chest at her sweetness invading my mouth. “Missed me?” I teased when I finally reopened my eyes to find her staring back at me with a lustful expression.

“You have no idea just how much,” was her answer. I was enough of a man to feel proud of her response, but it also became clear just how much I had actually become soft for the woman under me - a stark contrast to the hardness I could feel restricting my jeans.  

When she first arrived at the academy, I hadn’t expected her to become as important to me as she had now, but just as I struggled to take off my clothes as quickly as possible before kneeling before the bed, pulling her by the ankles so she was spread out just in front of my face, I couldn’t really deny it. I’d do anything to keep her with me, just like this.

“I think I have some idea of it…” I teased her just as I softly ran my fingers over her pussy lips, simply collecting the wetness that had gathered there.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

He once more wrapped his lips over his wet fingers and moaned at my taste in his mouth. “How are you this fucking sweet?” Was all he asked before he delved right in, parting my thighs with his large hands and licking from my puckered hole to my clit. 

“Fuck!” I cursed, throwing one of my hands over my head, to find something to hold onto, while the other found its way into his hair, pulling on it just the way I knew he liked. I felt his groan reverberating through me before he chuckled, briefly stopping his ministrations to stare up at me with his lower face dripping from my wetness.

“I love when I can make you curse.” Biting my lip, I accepted that I couldn’t retaliate his teasing while he continued to eat me out. His tongue easily engulfed my whole pussy, so just that was enough to bring me to the edge of an orgasm in a way I could never grant it to myself. “Come on, sweet girl,” he admonished, slapping my thigh. “Ride my face. Give me what I came here for.”

I obeyed him without even thinking about it. This was just how it was when it came to us. He asked me to strip, my panties were on the floor before he finished his sentence. He ordered me to get on my knees, my mouth was instantly watering at the sight of him.

But God, did he deliver. My compliance came very easily when it came to a man like him, so eager to please beyond what his body could already offer. I’d been with many men before who, while obviously not as well-endowed as him, had been on the bigger side, and they always left me needing more, like they believed their dick’s length was enough to satisfy me without any real effort from their part.

Not Logan, though. Oh, no. Logan thrived on making me cum, over and over again. He liked to say he’d live on my pussy alone if possible, and by the way he very hungrily ate me out for hours on end at times, I knew he was being honest.

I sometimes liked to entertain the idea that I was the one who brought out that side of him, but I knew better. Someone like Logan had a lot of experience, I was dumb to think that I might be somewhat special to him, somehow. So I didn’t.

Instead, I allowed the filthy sounds of my wetness being gurgled down by him to bring me back to this moment, choosing to focus instead on how delicious his tongue felt against my clit, how he happily accepted my movements as I buckled up, in search of my orgasm.

I was right over the edge, in need of just a little something else to push me over it when Logan suddenly decided to open his eyes and focus them on me. The sight of his darkened eyes and dilated pupils was enough to make me throw my head back against the soft pillows of my bed as I reached bliss.

When the stars of light disappeared from my vision and I came to my senses, Logan was still in the same spot in front of me, his thumbs softly caressing the inside of my thighs. “You’re back with me, darlin’?” He asked in that deliciously gruff voice of his, and I shivered, nodding breathlessly as I wetted my lips. “So now, let’s have a talk. Who said you could touch yourself while I’m away, huh?”

I blinked once, then twice. My mouth was slightly agape as I looked down at Logan, still sprawled out for his viewing pleasure while my mind raced to make sense of his words. “I-I don’t understand,” I finally confessed, my eyes following his movement as he climbed up on the bed until we were face to face for the first time since his return.

Logan’s P.O.V.

I tsked teasingly, leaning down to deposit a quick kiss on the corner of her lips. “I asked you…” I breathed out on her ear, watching as goosebumps raised over her skin. “... who said you could touch yourself, darlin'. Because last I checked…” I cupped her cunt with one of my hands, chuckling lightly at how I was able to cover it with my palm. “... this pussy was mine and only mine.”

“I-it was?” Now, hold my heart (and my cock) but she just looked too fucking cute with that confused look on her face, her eyebrows frowned as she stared at me like I had grown two fucking heads.

“Of course, sweetheart. Now, I know we hadn’t talked about this before, so I’ll let your pretty little ass spank free this time, but be warned…” I leaned over her again, my nose touching hers as I felt her little breaths against my own lips. “... next time you’re feeling horny, you ask your boyfriend to help you deal with it. And if he’s not around, you wait.”

Now, I was expecting some kind of reaction from my little rule, and I was 100% ready to negotiate, but what I wasn’t expecting was for her eyes to grow twice their size as she suddenly sat up on the bed, forcing me to lean back and take a seat, too.

“Boyfriend?” She definitely looked confused, her eyes searching mine for something I didn’t know since I was just as puzzled. Opting to stay silent, I simply stared back at her, both of my eyebrows raised high as I waited for her explanation. “You mean… you?”

The familiar fire of anger rose up quickly inside my chest, and I had to curl my hands into fists to control myself. “Of course it’s me, who the fuck would it be? Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

Rationally, I knew my problem was less anger and more disappointment. I’d let my guard down for her - way too quickly, faster than I’d done for anyone else throughout my life. And I’d done it because she touched my heart in a way no one else had. I was falling for her, and I thought she felt the same way too.

“NO! Of course not!” She all but jumped, her hands reaching out to cradle my face and I found myself actually relaxing against her touch, as my heartbeat started to slow down at the knowledge that she really was all mine. “I just… I didn’t know… I didn’t think we were dating. I thought you saw me as…”

She didn’t seem to have the courage to finish her sentence, but she didn’t need to. I understood what she meant, and as realization fell upon me, I found myself throwing my head back and full-on laughing, much to her displeasure. When I managed to calm down, she was pouting at me, which only made the arousal that had dissipated by the fear reappear that much stronger.

“Oh, darlin’...” I started, pulling on her ankles to force her on her back again as I hovered over her, watching, analyzing. “I’ve fucked you every single night for the last month. Now, I know I’m not the kind to talk about my feelings, but I figured that made it pretty obvious…”

Leaning down, I took possession of her mouth to give her a breathtaking kiss, forcing her to accept my eager tongue, to taste herself on my lips. Then I went further, kissing her jaw, her neck, until I reached her collarbones, where I sucked a bruise, all the while rubbing my aching cock against her clit before pushing it inside of her in one forceful thrust. 

“... You’re mine. Only mine. Mine to fuck, mine to bruise and mark, mine to cum into.” Her mouth immediately fell open at the feeling of my hardness stretching her open, and I couldn’t help the smirk that took over my lips. “You okay with that, sweetheart?” I asked, waiting for her to adjust to the feeling of being invaded as I nibbled on her earlobe.

Finally, after a few minutes of her struggling to breathe as I felt her squeezing my biceps, she nodded. “Y-yeah.” Grinning, I took that as an okay to start moving and immediately started to pound her against the mattress, just like I loved and had come to learn that she did, too. Her nails bit on my flesh, but it only added to my own arousal, making me growl against the skin of her chest.

“This fucking pussy… You really thought I’d just treat you like a fuckbuddy?” Abruptly pulling out of her, I manhandled her onto her hands and knees before pushing her face down against the mattress, all the while laughing at the little scream of surprise she let out. “I’m never gonna stop fucking you, pretty thing. You better watch out.”

She was moaning desperately now, just how I’d dreamt of hearing while I was away from her, and it made my sack even heavier as it slapped against her clit with each thrust I gave. “Fuck… ‘m gonna cum, sweetheart. Do you want it? Say you want my cum in your pretty little pussy, come on.”

After a gasp that followed my slap on her ass, she flipped her head back, looking at me with those fucking sultry eyes that I loved so damn much. “Please, Logan, cum inside of me. Wanna feel it dripping from me, please, I need it so bad.” And this is why I was convinced she was some sort of siren or whatever. The second that our eyes connected, I was fulfilling her wishes, releasing all of my milky cum inside of her throbbing pussy, as she came at the same time as me.

Once I was able to breathe again, after having thrown myself by her side on the bed, I pulled her so she’d rest her face on my chest, chuckling to myself over how much of a cuddle lover I’d become ever since we’d started sleeping together.

“Hey, Logan,” she called out my attention, making me hum in response as I looked down to find her staring up expectantly at me. “I hope you know that this goes both ways.” I blinked twice as I waited for her words to make sense to me, but before they did, she was giggling, already clarifying her meaning. “You’re mine too.”

To say that those words filled me with the happiest kind of warmth would be an understatement. I didn’t know what to say, I’d never been good at this lovey-dovey shit, so I settled for pulling her back to me again and giving her forehead a kiss.

“Believe me, darlin’... I know.”

[ayellowcurtain]

Could you write an actual Elu conversation after eliott says "since I met you, you're the only one that matters"? Like, what would Lucas answer?

Lucas doubts it, every word because he’s finally understanding how Eliott is a little bit. At least he thinks he is. Eliott is too fast, too intense to the point that Lucas doubts he truly knows the weight of those words and what they can mean.

Lucas would give anyone anything to have Eliott meaning these words because even if he fucked up at that party, somehow, Lucas only wants Eliott to think he matters. If he could choose someone to say he’s the only one that matters it would be Eliott. Because he’s the only one that matters to Lucas.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Lucas whispers weakly, grabbing one of the paint brushes just because he needs to focus on something else.

“I do know what I’m saying.” Eliott answers more firmly than the dreamy-like answer he gave before, and Lucas drops his brush back on the plastic floor they sprawled as best as they could a few minutes ago while stealing secretive glances of each other.

“No, you don’t. Because that’s what you do: you do everything 110%, way too deeply, but just as quickly as you do it, you regret and you go back to your old habits.”

“Lucas…” Eliott exhales, taking a step forward, trying to apologize.

“No. Listen. You say you like me one day, and the other you’re with your tongue deep inside your ex’s mouth yet again. This is not “you’re the only one that matters” type of behavior.”

“You’re only talking about the parts that you know. Things happened in the middle” Eliott says it easily but Lucas can see deep in his eyes some discomfort, like he’s a wild animal with bright lights coming for him.

“Did they? Really? Because I’m not aware of anything, you didn’t tell me anything, last time I checked we were fine. I still have no idea why would you be such a heartless fucking asshole. Because one day I’m planning our wedding or something, thinking I don’t need anyone else if you’re by my side, and the next thing I see is you, making out with someone else.”

Eliott crashes into him, and Lucas only has time to shut his eyes close, feeling Eliott’s lips against his. It feels perfect like all the other times, but Lucas is still pissed, somehow finding the strength to put his hands on Eliott’s chest to move him back.

“Stop.”

“Sorry, it’s because you’re so fucking beautiful. And what you said…” Eliott lets go of him like Lucas asked him to but he’s not happy about it, almost pouting like a spoiled child.

“And that’s exactly what I was saying: you move on to the next new shiny thing with no explanation. And that’s your way of doing things but it isn’t mine. And if your way of doing things is valid, then mine is too for doing them differently.”

Lucas starts to organize the paints in one side of the room even though they haven’t even started yet. He just needs to leave already. Eliott ditched him once so that gives Lucas the right to do the same, and Eliott can repaint this wall by himself.

“I’m not moving on. That’s exactly what I’m not doing. I can’t seem to move on from you, no matter how hard I try.”

Eliott follows him across the class, trying to keep Lucas from leaving.

“And you can say that with a straight face? That you’re trying to “move on” from me but still rushing to come meet me the second I ask for a final decision? Do you see how confusing and fucked up that is?”

“What do you want me to do, Lucas?”

“To be honest with me! To tell me the whole truth, no bullshit. Because you seemed pretty happy with Lucille a few days ago.”

“She doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters, I mean it. I was trying to forget you, and she was there, and she’s safe, I know her, she knows me, there’s nothing to discover, no secrets, no carefulness to do everything right or wrong. I don’t want to make mistakes with you.”

“You’re late then.”

“I’m sorry. For hurting you, for making more of a mess, it was never my intention.”

Lucas nods his head, swallowing the lump in his throat, cleaning his hands on the sides of his pants to grab his things to go to the bathroom, clean himself properly anc change, and probably cry like the stupid guy he is.

“Where are you going?” Eliott asks, moving on his heels as he follows where Lucas is going.

“Leaving. You promised Daphné you would fix this, I just offered my help so now you can do it yourself.”

Eliott stops Lucas from leaving like Lucas thought he would by the way he was anxious, his whole body unable to be still for more than a second. He holds Lucas’ arm and pulls him closer.

“I like you. You’re the only thing I see, I told you before, I told you the day we spent the night together, I wasn't lying to you, I’m not lying again, this is no news to you. I wanna be with you, I came here today to talk to you, fuck this wall.”

“What was your plan? Coming here, what were you thinking you would do? Because you were quiet for the whole five minutes.”

“You were quiet too.” Eliott tries to justify, hovering over Lucas, so close it’s hard to think or even care about what he’s saying. “You scare me, the freedom you give me, the feelings you make me feel. I never felt this way before, and I don’t want to lose it, the feeling or you. I want to be with you forever. And even forever doesn’t sound long enough. If it’s worth anything it was just kisses, we didn’t-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Lucas stops him so the words won’t make him imagine Eliott and Lucille together in a way that Lucas has been dying to be with Eliott.

“Do you like me?”

Lucas looks down because it’s unbelievable that Eliott can’t see it written all over his face, and how much he’s willing to let go to be with him. Lucas doesn’t just like Eliott, he loves how he makes Lucas feel, he loves how he is when he’s around Eliott. There’s nothing better than the feelings Eliott gives him even when they’re away from each other. Lucas feels more like himself than ever because he thought someone would like him the exact way he is for once. Eliott made a fool of him.

“It’s funny, you see, weeks ago you said you liked surprising people. And I’m the least surprising person you’ll ever meet. There’s nothing surprising about me. You found out everything that I’ve been hiding for years, and you walked away.”

Lucas quickly cleans the corners of his eyes, not caring he’s getting dirtier, it’s better than letting Eliott see him cry.

“I’m here now, isn’t that worth something? You just said you wanted answers, and I’m giving them to you as you want them.”

“I feel like you want something adventurous, someone that’ll keep you on your tiptoes, as high in the sky as you can. And I can’t do that, I don’t want dreams, I want the real world, both feet on the ground, as steady and safe as possible.”

Eliott nods his head, looking up like he’s picturing that in his head to see if it works, then he looks down at Lucas again, and maybe he shouldn’t have said about feet on the ground because he feels light like a feather when Eliott looks at him with his intense gaze.

“I can give you that. I want to, so badly.”

Lucas should argue, and put everything out once they’re already trying to fix the mess but Eliott kisses him instead and he doesn’t find it in him to fight it this time.

His body and brain have different decisions, and before he knows it, Lucas is lifting Eliott’s shirt, noticing his big smile when his dirty shirt gets stuck in his head, leaving a blue strip from the corner of his mouth to the middle of his cheek. Eliott takes Lucas’ shirt off just as quickly, kissing him again.

[lowkeyaesthvtic]

Say More, Dumbass - KINKTOBER Day 2

Day 2: Dirty Talk

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: TodoBaku (Todoroki/Bakugou)

Summary: What started off as an excuse to get drunk ends with Bakugou realizing just how powerful Todoroki’s voice can be.

Word Count: 1,878

Prompt by: @lustyargonianmaid​

NOTES: Characters are 18+

For once, the students of Class 3-A had a long weekend. Nobody really knew why, but nobody cared. With recently moving into the dorms, most of the students were excited to hang with their classmates away from the pressure of their family and teachers. This strongly included Katsuki Bakugou. Though he wouldn’t admit to anyone, he was looking forward to staying up all Sunday night and not having to worry about an early class with Aizawa the next day. Did he know what he’d do to stay up all night? No. But he was damn sure going to find a way. Closing his laptop, Bakugou slipped on a black tank top and walked next door to Kirishima’s dorm. “Hey, dumbass! Can I come in?” He asked, nearly breaking the door down as his fist pounded against the wood. 

“A little busy, Bakugou!” Kirishima grunted out. Bakugou rolled his eyes and pounded once more on the door.

“I know Kaminari’s in there with you, man. I need his help with something. Yours too.” A couple of seconds of silence passed by before Bakugou saw the door slowly open, Kirishima peeking around to check for people nearby. “Can I come in or not? Nobody’s gonna see you, dumbass.”

Kirishima chuckled and walked the blonde in as he closed the door behind them. “Yeah, sorry man. We’re just trying to make sure Mineta and Iida aren’t around. They’re really the only ones who would rat us out. If we got caught with this stuff, we’d get kicked out of UA for sure!”

“We wouldn’t just get kicked out of school, Kiri. We’d get arrested! We can’t drink until we’re 20, man!” Denki chuckled out as he downed what was not his first beer of the night. “Who gives a shit, though, man? We don’t have classes tomorrow! Let’s get so dumb we forget our damn names.” Kiri grabbed another beer from the mini fridge and opened it with a strong grip. 

“Were you wanting to join in, Bakugou? Hell, I’m sure we’ve got enough in here for the whole class!” Kiri asked as he slowly savored his drink. Bakugou scoffed and rummaged through the fridge, looking for something stronger than the puny beers he had been sneaking since junior high.

“Do it then, dumbass. It’d be hilarious to see how stupid these weaklings get off such a stupid drink.” Kiri and Denki looked at each other, confused as to whether or not their friend was joking. Bakugou rarely wanted to spend time with anybody in Class 1A other than Denki or Kiri. Even his time spent with Midoriya was starting to become scarce. The two shrugged, deciding that Bakugou likely wouldn’t joke about something as small as this. Assuming so would definitely get the two on his bad side, something neither of the two wanted. “Seriously. Get all the assholes who won’t snitch and bring them in here. I’m bored.”

And so they did. The overall question was whether or not it had been a mistake.

It started off light. Mina and Sero joined inside the dorm, staying calm but definitely still adding to the fun. The five friends just sat around and talked, but Bakugou kept noticing Mina looking at her watch. “The fuck are you looking at, Ashido?”

“Well, I texted Momo and asked her to bring some more people here, but she hasn’t responded yet.” As if on cue, Kiri’s dorm room door opened and a small crowd waited in the doorway. The boys and Mina looked up and ran over to greet them with excitement. Bakugou continued to sit and drink his beer, finishing off what might have been the second bottle. It was enough to get him tipsy, but nothing to make him too sick in the morning. He was almost a little ashamed of how small his tolerance had gotten. What was once a madman downing bottle after bottle of sake was now getting tipsy after just two bottles of beer. He had to find a way to get stronger. There was no way he’d let anybody in this room see him in such a weakened state.

“Would you like a third?” A low, quiet voice spooked the blonde out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw the one person that he wouldn’t mind looking weak in front of. Shoto Todoroki. He could never put a finger on it, but since their battle at the Sports Festival as first years, Bakugou had this fluttery feeling in his stomach around the icy-hot bastard. He’d die before telling anyone, even Kiri, but he had multiple dreams of what it’d feel like to have Todoroki on top of him, filling his ear with words dirtier than ever before. 

“I can get one myself, icy-hot.” Bakugou scoffed out, going to stand but getting blocked by Todoroki’s body in front of him. At that moment, it was hard to remember that there were other people around. He did everything he could to keep his blush hidden and his tough expression strong. “Out of my way, icy-hot. I’m trying to move here!” Todoroki looked around, then quietly chuckled and leaned close next to Bakugou, pretending to grab something from the bed the blonde was sitting on. 

“A little birdy told me you’ve been dreaming about me.” Todoroki kept his face neutral, but his tone of voice sent chills down Bakugou’s back. He had earlier convinced himself that Shoto was able to put ice in his voice with his quirk. But this, this feeling was both chilling and warm at the same time. It was as if Todoroki’s words alone had frozen him in place. Was this the alcohol talking? No...no it couldn’t be. “Your walls are thin, Bakugou. The question is, should we do something about it?” A small smile played at the corner of Shoto’s lips as he walked away. In a sort of scramble, Bakugou grabbed a bottle of sake from the fridge and made his exit. 

“Bakugou, where are you going? You’re the one who organized this thing!” Kirishima shouted out, gesturing his best friend back to the bed.

“I’m going to bed, shitty hair. These extras aren’t my style.” Bakugou muttered, slamming the door behind him. After making sure the halls were clear, he practically sped to Todoroki’s dorm. It wasn’t hard considering the boy’s dorm was next to his own, but he could barely contain it anymore. Between Todoroki’s words and the alcohol rushing through his veins, he could already feel himself getting flushed with anticipation. Before Bakugou could even raise his hand to knock on the other’s door, it opened and invited Bakugou inside the traditional looking room. Todoroki stood near the doorway, a conniving, lustful gaze fueling his eyes with fire. 

“Why did I know you’d rush over here?” Todoroki asked, leading himself and Bakugou towards the bed as he started to strip off his shirt. The blonde eyed his chest up and down, dazed at the sight of Todoroki’s stripped body. 

“Y-you don’t take any time, do you, Icyhot?” He asked, hurriedly stripping down to his boxers. The taller man responded with a snicker and a “come hither” gesture, inviting Bakugou to the bed. As soon as the hot head got close enough, Todoroki grabbed him by the throat and pinned him down to the bed. Even if Bakugou wanted to get out, there’s no way he could. He felt goosebumps rising atop his skin. Was Todoroki using his quirk? 

“Oh, on the contrary, Bakugou.” He leans in to whisper to the man below him. “I plan on taking all night with you. By the time I’m done, you’ll be bruised, speechless, and barely able to walk. Does that sound good to you?” An audible gulp sunk down Bakugou’s throat. Of course it sounded good to him. He lightly nodded, already a little speechless due to the position he was in. Receiving the invitation, Todoroki dove down and kissed Bakugou passionately, adding spice and lust to every movement. 

“What are you gonna do?” The blonde huffed, needing the other’s voice to fill his ear. There was something about it. It was like Todoroki’s own quirk had filled every part of him, including his voice. What would sound cool and harsh one second could sound warm and fiery the next. He needed it. All of it. Todoroki broke the kiss from the blonde’s lips and began moving down his neck, leaving dark love marks in the nooks and crannies of his collarbone.

“Are you sure you want to know, Bakugou? I mean..actions do speak louder than words, don’t they?” Todoroki spoke in between bites, using his ice quirk to cool the marks as he left them. He knew that Bakugou wouldn’t want people seeing what was done to him, and Todoroki understood that. But this, what Bakugou was asking, seemed a little odd. 

“Just keep talking, dumbass! You know how to multitask, don’t you?” He responded in between tiny groans, chilled by the icy feeling on his skin. Todoroki chuckled in response and removed both his and Bakugou’s boxers, letting their cocks spring free from their confines. The older one leaned down to Bakugou’s member, giving the side of it a long, wet lick before lowering his hand to stroke the length. Bakugou leaned his head back in pleasure, relieved at the contact after going so long without it. Todoroki leaned in towards his ear, lightly nibbling the lobe before speaking with his hot breath.

“You’re already so hard for me, Bakugou, you’ve been waiting for this moment, haven’t you?” Nothing but a pleasured grunt comes from the blonde. He doesn’t want to talk right now, just listen and feel everything that Todoroki is giving him. “Since you’re so keen to listen, I’ll tell you every little thing I plan on doing to you...is that what you want, Bakugou?” A light nod came from the blonde, as if to say please keep talking. Todoroki snickered and started to pick up his pace on Bakugou’s cock. “I’ve thought of you too, you know? I know the front you put on, Bakugou. You’re loud and angry towards everyone. But it’s just pent up frustration, isn’t it? You just want someone who fucks you so rough, so relentlessly that you can’t think anymore.” A quiet moan slipped Bakugou’s lips. It was always the quiet ones who were so wild in bed, and Todoroki was no exception.

“Y-yes...please, just -”

“Did I say you could fucking speak?” Todoroki growled, using his free hand to wrap it around Bakugou’s neck. “Speak out of turn again and I’ll find a better use for that mouth of yours.” Bakugou nodded and leaned his head back, ready and eager to listen to every dirty word that decided to drip out of Todoroki’s hot hot mouth. “God, look at you. So needy for me…you want more, don’t you, Bakugou?” Another nod, not wanting to speak out of turn again. “I’ll fuck that tight hole of yours so hard, all you’ll want is more. I’ll grind into so rough..so deep, you’ll nearly pass out from pleasure. Is that what you want? You can tell me.”

Sweating and twitching from anticipation, Bakugou looked up at him and mustered up whatever words he could. “Say...more..d-dumbass.”

[marvelship-oneshots]

NIGHT SHIFT (STONY)

AU where Steve is a cashier at McDonalds and Tony is a regular [1.3k words]

When Steve and Tony first met, it was totally casual. So casual that it didn't mean anything for the both of them. They even forgot about it. It was a cold November night and in New York it was raining. Tony was just out of the club he spent the night partying at and he was so drunk he could barely stand. He thought that stopping at the nearest McDonald's for something to eat and a cup of coffee was the best idea. He could hear his father's words "you're a 27 years old man, the future of the company, you can't go out and party like a child". But in his opinion, it was exactly because he was a 27 year old man that he could go out partying until he felt like it. And to be honest, it was not like his father, may he rest in peace, could stop him anymore. Steve was working his night shift, like every other night. He had picked up that job that no one wanted to do, in order to pay for the expensive art school he was studying at. Between his two jobs he didn't have much time to catch up with his homework but the good news was that during the night shift the restaurant was never particularly busy and usually it was just him. Him and that one customer that from a certain point on became a usual. Steve noticed him the very first time he walked in, mostly because it was the first customer to ever come in during the night shift. He didn't pay much attention to him though. Steve gave him his cheeseburger and his black coffee at around 3am, watched him pass out on a table, ignoring him, and then gave him a donut and another black coffee once he woke up. Other than that, Steve didn't even look at him in the eyes. Tony, however, had plenty of chances to look at Steve, too bad that the next day he had already forgotten about him. Something at the back of his mind told him that there was something special about that McDonalds, but he would have never guessed that it was the tall, blond and handsome cashier. So, the next Saturday, after yet another party, he went back there. This time, he was a hell of a lot less drunk and managed to avoid passing out on the table, looking at Steve instead. But that was not the  last time Tony went back to that McDonalds. He actually took up the habit of crashing there after a long night partying, every weekend and sometimes even during the week. And every single time, his now new favourite employee was there. Steve eventually started noticing him. A first he thought he was somehow weird that the same man showed up every single Saturday, smelling like alcohol and cigarettes, in what once were very fancy clothes. They still were fancy, but they had suffered the heat of a night of partying. Tony still looked good though, even if it took him forever to realise it. But as soon as he did, Steve's homework and assignments became pretty much Tony-centered. Tony looked old, well, older than Steve, that's for sure. Steve was a 19-year-old boy and his facial features were still pretty much boyish. He wasn't even sure he could even grow a beard. Tony had a beard, a perfectly shaven beard, probably making him look older than he really was. This didn't stop Steve from fantasising on his mysterious client. The first thing Tony noticed about Steve were his broad shoulders and his perfectly shaped body. It was difficult not to notice Steve's body, even under those hideous gray t-shirts, and Tony could only imagine how Steve would look with any sport t-shirt or a tailored shirt, or even better, without them. But if Steve ever asked, Tony would tell him that the first thing he noticed were his eyes. Which, in truth, were the second. Lastly, he noticed that the boy might have been way too young for him, and he was for sure not looking for a playboy. But Tony kept showing up more and more often and he always spent the night.  When he wasn't drunk,he stayed awake, sometimes working, sometimes just, kind of creepily, staring at the blond man. Steve, on the other hand, spent his nights staring at Tony, justifying by reminding himself that it was all for academic purposes. Truth was that not even half of all of his sketches and

drawings were submitted to his professors as assignments, the others he kept for himself.

It took Tony several months to build up the courage to talk to Steve. In his mind, he had to ask him for his name, and maybe, just maybe, ask him if he was interested in drinking a cup of coffee with him, right there and right then. But Steve was studying his history of art manual for an exam he had that week, for the first time not really caring about Tony. And Tony's brain went to mush and his playboy personality spoke of him. "I thought that the David was in Rome, not working in this McDonalds" Tony said, leaning on the counter, hoping to meet Steve's eyes. "It's actually in Florence, thank you very much" Steve replied, not looking up from his book. Tony ordered his cheeseburger and went back to his table, where he stayed until Steve finished his shift. If Steve had been any other person,he wouldn't have made any effort to at least have him to look at him. Usually, people would chase after him,  but Steve was different. He had set his mind on going out with him and when he did set his mind on something, he was determined to reach his goal. For a year, every single night, Tony went back to the restaurant and every single night he tried a different pick up line. At first, he started with something very subtle, he didn't want to creep him out, more than showing up every night like a stalker might have already done. But ten,  seeing that Steve was totally indifferent to them, he upgraded his game. The pack up lines became more shameless and dirtier and Tony started writing them down, crossing the ones that didn't work,  which were all of them. Steve was clueless and oblivious, always had been. His problem was that he noticed Tony's attempts to catch his attention, but he didn't believe that he was really interested in a simple cashier.

Tony was tired of trying. It had been a year and he hadn't made any progress so far. He decided that that night he would try one last time and, if it didn't work, he would move on, going back to partying and getting wasted. He walked into the restaurant, fixed his tie and walked towards Steve. Tony leaned on the counter, waiting for Steve to look at him. When the blond finally took his eyes away from his sketchbook, looking at Tony, he finally spoke. "Are you a parking ticket? Because you have FINE written all over you" Tony winked at him, while Steve was still looking at him. "Are you flirting with me?" Tony smiled, rolling his eyes in his mind. "Have been for the past year, but thank you for noticing" Steve blushed and looked down at the cash register to hide his red cheeks. "In that case, it was the lamest pick up line in existence" he replied, once the redness went away. "Don't worry, that's just plan A" Steve looked confused. "And what's plan B?" "To take you hostage" Tony replied way too quickly. Steve blushed again, thinking back to every interaction he had with Tony, remembering every single pick up line Tony had used with him. He cringed thinking at the very dirty and not-so-subtle une he used and especially at how he had never reacted. "This is crazy" "Well, usually crazy works. So tell me, is it working?" Steve shrugged. "Maybe" "Do I need plan B or are you going on a date with me on your own?" Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess it's better that being taken hostage"

[obsessive-ego]

Pillow humping

when your vibe is dead you gotta get creatvie

musical beetlejuice x fem reader nsft DUH

you know the drill with me, masturbation voyeurism

Home alone, you lay there on your bed staring at the ceiling, just thinking, it's been awhile since you got some time to yourself, not that you didnt mind, you adored your alone time, hell you spent most of your adult life alone. Until an certain born dead demon weaseled his way into your everyday life, making for a much more interesting loud day to day life, not that you were complaining.

Beetlejuice has made it a habit to mess with your neighbors when he was over, to give you some space from time to time, saying how 'breathers enjoyed their alone time' and he's 'just being respectful of his pal' not sure how true those statements were, he was probably just looking for an excuse to run amok in an apartment building.

All and all it was nice to be alone, that being said, it would be alot nicer if you remembered to buy batteries while you were at the store the other day, you huff in frustration.

It's been what? Almost two weeks since you dealt with your sexual needs, with beetlejuice constantly hanging about, the chances to have some legit alone time were slim and none, but now, being all alone, you would think youd jump at the opportunity, but no, vibrator was dead.

You could always get creative with taking care of business, it's been awhile, you've used a vibrator for such along time, did you really want to try something else? What if it wasnt good? All that effort wasted for nothing?

The thought of dealing with the built tension you've gained while having to 'babysit' beetlejuice while the Deetz were out of town made you core twitch.

You sigh, sitting up from your bed, looking down to your hands, you mumble "I guess I could use my fingers...?"

Or maybe?

You glance to your pillows, specifically the pillow Beetlejuice used every night, the ghoul has made the habbit of sleeping with you, at first he would sneak in while you slept, then he just kinda stopped being subtle, embarrassing yes, but enjoyable, as hard as it was to admit it, you liked the ghoul.

You stare at the pillow way longer then youd like to admit, you couldnt, snapping your head away, glancing back, could you?

You weren't naive, you knew people sometimes humpped pillows to get off, but using his? I guess you could wash it after. You sigh, getting up from your bed, you begin to pace around your bedroom debating with yourself on the morals of this dirty deed.

Unknown to you beetlejuice has returned early from bugging your neighbors, hiding his presence from you in hopes to scare you, as he often enjoyed to do, ever since you sucker punched him in the jaw for scaring you, he's been trying to get you to do it again ever since.

The ghoul strolls around your little apartment looking for you, with a nasty trick up his sleeve of course, he approaches your room, phasing his head through the door, his jaw nearly hits the ground, you were bent over sliding out of your panties, wearing nothing else but a bra, picking his jaw off the ground, literally, the demon decides the prank can wait another day, what you were up to would be FAR more fun~.

You have came to the conclusion of 'this was my house, my pillow, I can just wash it after' you sigh, it's been so long since you messed around like this, you could feel your bits pulsing already, climbing back on the bed you take the pillow beetlejuice has been using and plant you face directly into it, inhaling the scent, it was hard to describe, but you did detect weed in the smell.

Beetlejuice watches you like a hawk, eyes wide, hair electric pink buzzing with excitement, what were you up to? Was that the pillow he used every night? He chuckled to himself, and here he thought he was the only one here who had a scent fetish.

You let out a small moan like sigh, quiet, but still auditable to the ghost in the room. Beetlejuice bites his knuckles, how he LOVED that sound, sitting himself down at the edge of the bed, eager to see what kinda show you're about to put on, since your vibe died, what were you gonna do? Smell his pillow and finger yourself? The demon couldnt help but drool and that picture.

You mutter a soft "okay" and maneuver the pillow between your legs, straddling it.

Beetlejuice nearly screams with excitement, not that you could hear him in his invisible state. His cute little breather was gonna do something REAL dirty to the pillow he used every night, this was just too good, wiping the excessive drool from his mouth he purrs "didnt know you had it in ya sugar".

You slowly begin to move your hips, as if to test the feeling, and with that you begin a more steady pace panting and moaning softly "beej, please, so good" you babbled, you've been so worked up with no outlet of course you were already heated.

Beetlejuice drooled at this little show you were providing, pillow humping, especially the one he used, was way dirtier and better then you using a vibrator, this had a more perverted personal touch. "You naughty little thing, I would love to have those hip move on me like that sugar~ you really know how to move huh sweet stuff? Driving me nuts over here" he chuckled to himself, cock already in hand, his strokes trying to match your pace.

This was so gross, but it felt really good, you can deal with those negative feelings later, without a second thought you grab one of your breats and begin playing with the nipple, while your other hand grasps at the pillow between your thighs, the sensation of your fingers pinching and flicking your nipples was enough to make you whine.

The ghoul groans watching you play with your breast, god slash satan he want it in his mouth, if something like a little pinch was enough to make you whine, his mouth would have you in a screaming fit, without a second thought his jaw hangs down letting his long black and white striped tongue hang free, drooling.

you couldnt help but imagine Beetlejuice's hand in place of yours, gropping and pinching, giving your chest the love its deserves, you sigh in contentment.

The idea of riding the ghoul has crossed your mind way more then youd like to admit, you could hear it now all the dirty things he'd be saying, how he'd probably let you start, setting the pace, and doing the movements on your own until his large strong hands would grab your waist as he would slam into you with no mercy, the thought alone made you buck harder to the point the bed was creaking.

Beetlejuice was drooling like crazy watching you hump his pillow like you were a dog in heart, what he wouldn't give to switch places with it, hell it didnt even have to be his cock, to have you going that hard on his leg would be hot.

His stroking picks up in pace to match your enthusiasm "such a dirty girl, arent ya babes? I love watch you work those beautiful hips~ you gonna cum soon? Cum all over my pillow and leave it for me tonight? You're so thoughtful sugar~" he purrs.

"Fuck" you utter, beetlejuice recognized that strain in your voice, hes herd it multiple times watching you tend to you needs, it ment you were gonna cum, cum all over his pillow, he hoped you were gonna go to bed early tonight solely to join you and rub his face in that sweet spot you left behind for him. The demon began picking up his pace, wanting to cum shortly after you did.

You buck your hips at an unsteady pace, chasing your orgasm, the image of Beetlejuice coaxing you to cum all over his cock, and praising you for being such a good girl, while he slammed mercilessly into you aching pussy was more then enough to push you over the edge, you Yelp out "beetlejuice" as you cum, you ride out your orgasm clumsily grinding against the pillow until you finished, you stare off into space for a bit enjoying the after glow and trying to regain your composure.

The demon at the end of your bed wasnt too far behind after seeing that cute face you make when you come, not to mention how hot his name sound on you lips when you're shouting it out while you cum, was more then enough to get him to blow his load all over his hand. As he watch you regain you breath it hits him, a ghoulish idea, since you were so kind so leave him a personal gift on his pillow, he should do the same, and with that thought, he crawled forward and wiped his cum cover hand on your pillow. Pleased as punch with his doings, his attention is drawn back to you once the demon sees your on the move, watching you redress yourself.

"Alright" you mumble as you grabbed the freshly humped pillow.

"Wait, sugar, what are you doing?" Beetlejuice panicked, of course you would wash it after doing that, he completely blanked out on that.

"I guess itd be weird if I only washed the one huh" you mumble to yourself as you pick up yours, you werent stupid, you knew how to cover your tracks when doing something less then wholesome.

"Babes come on, don't, they're fine, it's fine, wouldn't it be a hot idea to leave them? PLEASE" Beetlejuice on his knees begging you to reconsider not that you could hear or see him in his current state. His heart sank when you left the room, he groans, cant win them all huh.

Bonus

You enter the laundry room with the pillows in hand.

"Hey sweetheart what cha up to?" You were greeted by Beetlejuice sitting on top of the dryer.

You nearly jump out of your skin "hey, I didnt expect you back so soon" you give a nervous laugh.

"Doing some laundry huh? How bout I give ya a hand? It's the least I can do sugar"

"No thanks" you were quick to respond

"Babes, I know how, it's not that hard, you've been so nice to me and putting up with me, it's the least I can do" Beetlejuice had jumped down from the dryer and had practically pinned you to the wall "i insist doll" he purred, his mouth practically on your ear.

This was all too much especially after just jerking off, you really didnt have it in you to argue or stand your ground, so you cave.

"Okay"

And with that beetlejuice took the pillows from you and practically pushes you out the door, locking it behind you.

"Weird, best not to dwell on that" you mumble, straightening yourself as you head to the kitchen for a drink.

[doctorreids]

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER EIGHT - august 

previous chapter | next chapter 

word count - 1.7k 

a/n - see @ the end ! 

warnings: slight sexual content, nothing explicit though. 

“i never needed anything more, whispers of ‘are you sure?’ ‘never have i ever before.’”

The glare of headlights filtered through his car as he drove down the main street, few cars passed. Red and green lights mixed together as he reached each stoplight.

The reality of what he was about to do hit him, just 20 minutes from her apartment he thought about turning back.

The ‘what if’s’ swirled around in his head. What if he wasn’t good enough? What if he truly hadn’t changed and he was just kidding himself? What if she was better off without him?

He would be lying if that last thought didn’t make tears pool in his eyes.

The late-night drive, however, did remind him of August's past. When he pulled up outside her apartment when they had the rare week off and told her to get in. Alex Blake had kindly given them the use of her beach-side Hampton’s summer home. The five-hour drive stretched well into the night.

He could remember her laughter in the passenger seat and her soft snores as they travelled down the highway. Talking nonsense and playing ‘I spy’ to pass the time before the sun began to set, the sky turning from blue into a purple-pink sky with red hues.

Before she drifted to sleep she turned towards him and whispered, “Red sky at night shepherd’s delight, red sky in the morning shepherd’s warning.”

The memory made him smile.

It also made him wonder if this was worth it. If he was too late.

…

“So you’re telling me you’ve never played ‘Never Have I Ever’?” She giggled.

“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’, he shrugged.

Pulling herself onto his lap, she peered up at him.

“Well then,” she sighed comically, “guess I’m just going to have to take your Never Have I Ever virginity! Pass me the wine.”

Tipsy and thinking nothing of it, he passed her the wine.

Hours passed and the questions got dirtier and dirtier. No longer did he blush or feel awkward at her suggestive comments, he made them himself.

They were both slurring, roaring with laughter at times. He had never felt more whole.

“Awk, Spencer, pick your jaw up from the floor.” She straddled him, her finger traced along his jawline.

He smiled up at her before pressing his lips to hers. His hands rested on her hips, she was fully pressed into his chest. She toyed with the buttons on his shirts as he kissed her neck.

He could not describe the utter state of bliss he was in; all he could feel, see, and hear was her. Her soft whimpers at his touch, her soft butterfly kisses on his chest, her bright eyes staring back at him, so full of love and adoration. He never wanted that feeling to end. He had never felt braver as he slipped off her top, placing kisses down her stomach and her thighs, watching her body react to his touch and the soft gasps that escaped her lips. He was on a high that he believed would never end, her touch was like ecstasy, he was filled with complete euphoria.

Whispered ‘I love you’s’ passed between them, he finally knew how it felt to be a teenager falling in love for the first time. She was his true first love. She was the kiss under the bleachers that he never got. She was the prom date he had waited for. He felt 13 years younger with her - shy, bashful and unsure.

The universe and all its questions had all its answers when he was with her.

“august slipped away into a moment in time, cause it was never mine, and I can see us twisted in bedsheets, august sipped away like a bottle of wine.”

The memory of the past August made him smile. They spent the day on the beach, reading and Y/N pulling him into the water despite his protests of it being too cold. They cooked together, showered together, and spent every other moment with each other. If he thought hard enough he could still remember the smells of the local Italian restaurant, the smell of each bottle of red, white and rose wine they drank. He could recall every word that was said.

“I love you.”

“The earth has rotated roughly 212.9 times in the seven months we’ve been together.”

“Not a more accurate figure, no?”

“I’m not a calculator, my love.”

He laughs audibly at the memory. He took so much for granted; how she would listen to his ramblings about everything and anything, especially things she didn’t understand. She would listen so intently, her eyes following his every word and gesture, and she would try her best to talk about astrophysics or whatever his chosen topic was in her own vocabulary, in a way she could understand.

She thought his mind was amazing, he thought her mind was too.

She was patient. She was kind. She was kind.

The memories don’t feel like they are his. They are only a slippery slope into madness. Tempting him back to the days of curling up on his sofa clutching some novel that reminds him of her.

His copy of Pride and Prejudice is now completely worn as he finds himself reading it over and over, remembering the sound of her voice of one summer afternoon in which she read it to him.

He had it memorised cover to cover but he couldn’t bring himself to read it aloud, only her voice could gently relay one of the greatest love stories of all time. A story he had hoped they would rival.

Maybe it was too big of fantasy to maintain hope but without hope, he was lost.

He didn’t feel as though he owned the memory of the past August. Almost as though he was out of his own body, watching it happen. Watching things be so perfect and then watching them fall apart. It was a vicious cycle.

“your back beneath the sun, wishin’ I could write my name on it.”

The morning sun flooded the room as he rolled over to face her. The thin white curtains did little to keep the light out. He couldn’t figure out what time it was and he couldn’t be bothered to look at the small alarm clock beside him.

Her back faced away from him, soft snores came from her mouth. He traced his finger all so gently along the lace of her nightdress to the base of her neck, along the straps and soft cotton material. The sun illuminated her skin, an angelic halo encircling her.

Not even Michelangelo could paint something so heavenly.

Each time he looked at her he felt winded. He was not one to dwell on luck, he focused rather on what was guaranteed and soundproof, but he knew he was so lucky to call her ‘his’. To be able to hold her, to watch each sunrise and sunset with her, was everything to him.  

It was at this moment he decided on their future - the girl before him was the woman he knew he was going to marry. Someday, he promised himself.

“I can practically feel you burning holes into my back, Spence.’ Her laugh cracked with sleep as she turned to face him.

They lay there for a few moments holding each other’s gaze, irises swimming with love. He grabbed her waist, a soft muffled hum as she rested her hand on his chest.

“I can also hear you thinking. Penny for your thoughts?” Her voice was gentle.

He hummed.

“I think you can hear my aching head rather than my thoughts, sweetheart.”

“Aw, does poor Doctor Reid have a sore head?” She teased.

Lifting her head with his index finger, he said, “Now, what did I say about calling me Doctor Reid.”

“Ah, yes. How could I possibly forget! At least one of us can remember last night with some degree of clarity.”

He laughed, “I just have a hangover, I remember everything. Not like you on some of your girl’s nights with Garcia.”

Pulling her pillow from underneath her, she hit him with it.

“You promised you wouldn’t speak of that!” She groaned.

“And you promised you wouldn’t call me unless…” He trailed off.

He wished he could stay there forever as their laughter mixed together.

…

There are moments after laughing, those deep belly laughs, where silence fell upon them both and she would look at him with that mischievous look in her eye and he would fall over and over again.  It was pure, unadulterated joy as they caught their breath.

These are the moments he wishes more than anything that he could live once more.

The empty passenger seat reminds him of the silence of their apartments as they grew further apart. It reminds him when she would sit there and stare out the window without as much of a glance towards him. It also reminds him of the drive home from their august trip. She was glowing, happily chewing on a piece of candy or eating the Cheetos they’d specifically bought for JJ and claiming she would buy more packs when they got back. (She never did.)

Time seemed to slow as each stop light turned red. The drive extended by a few extra minutes. More time to psych himself out. To tell himself to turn around. To remind himself that she wasn’t his to lose.

She was her own person, it was the reason he loved her so. She couldn’t be owned by anyone. In another way, neither could he. Maybe it’s why they clicked together like missing pieces of a puzzle. It’s a possibility why they fell apart so quickly, those pieces must have gotten lost somewhere along the way.

He no longer felt the anxiousness of before, determination surged through his veins. Each red light he stopped at reminded him of each mistake, each time he missed the cracks and signs. This time, he promises himself, he would be better.

He took the next right, knowing that she was 10 minutes away.

He was 10 minutes away from either making the best or worst decision of his life.

600 seconds away from his heart’s home.

799.

798…

--

a/n: hi guys!! sorry for the long wait - results week was very weird for me, and i had to get my grades reassessed and that was another week before i found them out too (which i went up to 2A*s and an A which was way more than what i originally got) which was amazing! i’ve just been going through a rough patch mentally and i’ve been busy sorting out university etc. i feel as though i owe you all an apology for not updating as often - this chapter just took it out of me but i’m looking to update at least weekly or maybe twice a week!! thank u for all the support it means so much <3

taglist: @itsfangirlmendes @toosassy2handle @supernatural-strangerthings-1980 @rexorangecouny @myheartbelongsintz @toizerdecker @baddestbau​ @haylaansmi​ @hess016 @blameitonthenight21​

[florencewritez]

Euphoric

AN: have a good day <3

WC: 6431  words

WARNINGS: consumption of alcohol, cursing "Mia, babe I genuinely don't know what I'd do without you," I told her as she carefully applied another white dot above my eyebrow to the row she'd already done. Mia only smiled, squeezing my cheeks a little more and telling me to keep my eyes closed or she'd poke them out. Begrudgingly, I did as she asked, tearing my eyes away from the stunning red look she'd given herself earlier. When the Glastonbury Festival started approaching quicker and quicker and me and Mia still had nothing planned, it had been Will who suggested who went as a pair. Angel and devil. Of course, we had to jump on the idea, we'd never pass that photo opportunity. That had been around four weeks ago. Now, it was only around an hour before our group would leave for Glastonbury and I finally felt the festival excitement bubbling in my stomach. Clearly, it bubbled out too, making me squirm a little, as Mia scolded me for moving and again repeated her empty threat of poking my eye. I only giggled. Mia was the least likely person to poke someone's eyes out, let alone mine. She knew it too because when I peeked my eye open, I saw her soft smile, eyes crinkling and making a single star she'd stuck on fall off. By the time we arrived, I was sure they'd all be gone."All done! You can look now."

"Finally." She playfully smacked my arm and handed me a hand mirror. The girl looking back at me felt like a different person. Roségold shimmery eyelids with a small line of white streaking through the glitter. Pretty highlight covering my cheeks and nose, like I'd captured the very essence of a rainbow on my face, complete with two white strokes at the top of my nose. And to top it all off, the white dots above my eyebrow, complete with little jewels in between each dot. Somehow, I actually did feel angelic, more than I had when I'd actually put the wings on that were supposed to be the trademark angel piece. Mia truly had worked wonders. "I can't believe this is really me, you're makeup skills are underrated," she snorted and sat down beside me, tilting the mirror to check her hair, hand tucking a spare curl behind her ear, lips turning up into a smile. "It's payback for styling my hair, don't undersell yourself either y/n." Will's voice echoed down the hall, telling us we were leaving to catch the bus soon and I smiled at the dark-haired girl beside me. I could already feel the music pounding through my veins, the adrenaline pumping through me after the fairground. I'd been attending festivals with Will and our friends since we'd moved to London together, having grown up together as neighbours and decided to pursue YouTube together. Some of my best memories in recent years were spent in a random field usually used for dairy farming, screaming lyrics to a song I didn't know I knew, clinging to someone's wrists as we jumped up and down to the beat. The inevitable headaches were always worth the feel of the moment, not to mention the pictures dotting my wall of the before and after that always made me smile when I woke up. George, Will, Becky, James, Aria, even a few random strangers always greeted me, either pissed out of their mind or suffering a severe hangover. However, whilst Mia's face did make an appearance in several non-festival pictures on my wall, this would be the first time we attended a festival together. She'd only started dating Will a little over a year ago and at the time, she hadn't quite been welcomed to the group enough to join us for festival season. Now though, after nights spent together with our group at clubs or nights out and a lot of sleepovers with just me, her and Aria, it'd be a sin to not bring her. I turned to face her, excitement flashing in my eyes and took her hand in mine. Mia smiled back at me, squeezing my hand. "I can't believe this is the first festival we'll spend together Mia, it feels long overdue." "The first of many right?" I saw a flicker of anxiety pass through her eyes and knew she sometimes felt she didn't fit in our group, even now. I understood where she was coming from, it was always hard to find your footing in such a tight-knit group of people who'd known each other for ages, but truly, everyone loved her just as much as the others. Especially me. "Of course. You're one of us now." She wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a short tight squeeze, our perfumes mixing together for just a second. It was a sweet moment, my best friend hugging me close, but I couldn't help but tease her. After all, it was Will she was dating. "Though if I have to watch you and Will make out I will puke, that's too much for me. May I remind you I knew him when he was a square little lad in a diaper." Mia rolled her eyes, pulling me to my feet. I was reminded of the silver heels I was wearing on then when I stumbled forwards, grateful for her being there to make sure she caught me. "Oh please, it's not me and Will anyone is worried about. Can we talk about you and Alex?" She winked. I flushed pink, (which probably looked rotten combined with the highlight) and Mia grinned, her tongue peeking through the gap in her teeth. Alex. At first, when Will started blowing up, dragging me along from almost being featured in his videos, he started making a lot of new friends that I had never met before for the first time in our lives. Before that, we'd always had the same friend group, even through the awkward high school years where friend groups were extremely messy. One day, he'd managed to drag me to a bar with his new friends, despite my complaining, and that's where I'd met Alex. Or rather, where we met each other. Stupid swooped hair with eyes that rewrote my definition of blue eyes the very first time my eyes met his. It had been Alex who managed to integrate me into Wills new group and Alex who remained the closest person in our group to me even to this day. Alex who, along with George, my favourite mask-wearing bloke, I moved in with once Wills place got a bit cramped. And of course, Alex who all my friends liked to tease me about dating. Of course, they did the same to him, probably worse considering the boys were usually a bit dirtier mouthed with each than with the girls, but I was the only one who turned red all the time. Probably because they were right mostly. When Mia prodded about the way I looked at him, my efforts to say there was nothing to prod at were all lies. When James would wink at me when Alex would pull me in closer on nights out, always downing whatever drink was in front of him before I could glare. When Will sat me down one day, patting my knee, and asked if I liked him, he saw past my eye rolls and dramatic head shakes. Most of all it was George who brought it up, always finding a way to shove at least five comments a day about our relationship and giving me the look when I'd mumble a comment back. Because yes, of course, I liked him. I had a stupid school girl crush at the same age I got blackout drunk and could legally do drugs in some countries. Alex was the nicest person I'd ever met, always treating me with such kindness and respect. Some nights I'd pass out by my desk when editing, exhausted from the hectic schedule I forced myself to follow. When I'd wake up, my video editing would be finished and there'd be a sticky note by my head, something that would make my heart beat a little faster, with his signature and a small heart. Not to mention the blanket thrown over my shoulders that smelled faintly of him. That was just one of the many things Alex did for me regularly without ever asking for anything. Yet, something deep inside me screamed to not do anything about it, screamed it was purely platonic on his side. Alex would constantly chatter about what a great friend I was, how much he loved me as a friend. For some reason, him friend-zoning me accidentally hurt a lot more than if he hated me. At least then there was a chance he'd see me as something more than a best friend, even if it was a mortal enemy. Mia cleared her throat and I snapped back to reality, laughing awkwardly. "There's nothing to talk about Mia. We're just friends." If Will hadn't called again, I would have been in for a lot of questions and yet another speech begging me to just tell him. Instead, she just sighed and rugged on my arm. "We'd best be going before his head explodes." "That'd be a sight to see. He doesn't deal well with stress you know," I told her, walking out of my room with our arms interlocked. "Did you know during our GCSEs, I found him out my back in the wet dirt, mumbling algebraic formulas?" "Ay, y/n are you telling that bloody GSCE story again?" Will called, peeking his head out from around the corner. His festival sunglasses were perched in his hair and I couldn't help but giggle.  "I'm sorry Will, it's just so fucking hilarious." "To be fair Will," Mia said, holding back a laugh, "it's pretty funny." Neither of us could hold back our laughter and finally cracked when his glasses slid down his face. Will groaned and told the boys waiting on the couch behind him we were bullying him again. I heard James say he probably deserved it, followed by Georges laughter and Alex's giggle. "Are they ready yet?" Aria called, having arrived with James already ready way before me or Mia had even started. Mia let go of my arm and walked ahead to the living room, posing at the doorway. Aria gasped and said she'd looked gorgeous and Will said the same, snaking a hand around her waist. Gross. Still, no matter how gross I called Mia and Will sometimes or how much I insisted nothing was going on between me and Alex, it didn't stop me from smiling like an idiot when he stopped giggling, calling me pretty. Schoolgirl crush. That was all that was. We'd finally piled onto the coach awhile after before pictures already filling my camera roll and only two videos on my Instagram story. One of me recording when Mia was doing my makeup and the other just our group leaving me, George and Alex's apartment to get the coach simply titled 'it begins'. Once on the coach I came to the startling revelation everyone expected me to sit with Alex, the couples all pairing up and Becky insisting she absolutely had to sit with George. My eyes stared out the window, surprising heavy despite not doing anything yet. "You alright?" Alex asked, poking me in the ribs as the coach finally started, several cheers erupting around us. I couldn't help but smile back, nodding my head. His eyes didn't stop looking worried so I opened my mouth. "I'm fine, don't worry Al. I'm just tired for some reason." "To be fair, you and Mia were up half the night talking about today. I warned you to sleep you know, don't blame me." I giggled remembering how he'd come into my room several times to warn me and Mia to get some sleep. Back then we'd only waved him off, saying we were having girl talk. Now, I wished I'd listened as a yawn escaped my throat. "See?" "Fine, you win. I should have slept earlier last night. I'll be fine when we get there, the pure adrenaline will be enough to keep me up for the entire festival." He didn't look convinced. "It takes around an hour and a half to get there you know." "I'm aware." "Go to sleep, I'll wake you when we arrive. Promise." At first, I was going to deny and say I'd be fine, ask his opinion on the latest Star Wars movie so I could listen to him ramble again. However, as another yawn escaped me, I smiled and nodded, telling him he'd better wake me up when we arrived. "Of course I will, I need someone to go on rides with me. We both know the others are pussies." I smiled, eyes closing without me telling them to. "Of course they are. We're the only brave ones on this bus. We'll ride all night." Alex raised his eyebrow but I was too tired to care, leaning my head on the bus window. The loud rattling actually helped ease me into sleep and the last thing I remembered before waking up was hearing a snippet of James and Arias conversation behind me, laughing about some joke I didn't understand. Gross couples. "N/n, mate, everyone else is waiting outside. Can you please wake up." It was dark for a bit, my dream ending before it really begun because of Alex's voice cutting through the cloudy landscape I'd arrived in. Whatever I was lying on was warm and I nuzzled in more, sleepily asking for five more minutes. Alex chuckled and poked my cheek. "We've arrived you know. The first festival of the year? The one you're usually most excited for?" I had no idea what he was talking about till the wings I had on ached against my back. Shit. The fucking festival. I jumped up quickly, too excited to be embarrassed about the fact I'd somehow ended up sleeping on Alex's instead of the window and smiled. "Everyone else is outside yeah? Do I look okay?" It was then I noticed the pink on Alex's shoulder, sticking out a lot against the light blue denim. Crap, my lipgloss. I opened my fanny pack, white to match my outfit of course, and searched for that stupid tube of lipgloss I'd brought to retouch it later. Of course, I hadn't planned to wipe it off completely on my friends' fucking jacket before I even got off the bloody coach but hey, at least I was prepared. Finally, I found the blasted thing, under my purse, phone, portable and a small bottle of vodka, of course at the very bottom and pulled it out, holding it like a sacred Egyptian jewel.Then there was another problem. "Crap, I didn't bring a mirror. How am I supposed to apply it now? Wheres my blasted phone?" Again, I started to scramble through my bag. Alex gently grabbed my wrist, stopping me from shoving my hand around. "I can do it for you, it can't be that hard. I've watched you do it to yourself like a million times."I paused. For some reason, that sounded like the worst best idea ever. I sucked my teeth for a moment before nodding. "Go on then, it's a challenge." I tossed the tube onto his lap and turned my face towards him, urging him to do something before I did. He unscrewed the tube, a focus in his eyes I'd only ever seen when he was working a video before and then gently placed his hand on my cheek, leaning in. I parted my lips as he carefully did his best to apply an even layer of sheer pink, so close I could feel his breath on my face. I gulped, moving closer to him subconsciously, hand gripping his thigh. "I think I'm done," he whispered, pulling the lipgloss down but still not moving back. In fact, I felt his hand tighten into my hair, tugging it slightly. My eyes darted from his eyes to his lips. "Thanks," my voice was barely a whisper, more of a gasp honestly, and still neither of us leaned back. I wondered if his eyelashes were always this dark or he'd changed overnight. "Oi lads, I'm going to have to start driving to pick up the 2 o clocks now. Are you okay back there?" The bus driver suddenly called, peeking his head out of his seating area. I snapped back into my seat, zipping my bag closed as Alex cleared his throat, standing up. He told the bus driver we were fine, that I'd lost a contact and then we scrambled off the bus, pulling oh hands back at even the slightest contact. The moment my feet touched the grass, I was swooped away by Mia and Aria, both smirking at me, eyes wide. "What?" I asked, my voice a lot more bashful than I meant it to. "What was that?" Aria asked, Mia nodding behind her. Arias's hand was resting on my shoulder, Mia grasping at Arias in a small human centipede. "What was what?" Completely inconspicuous, they'll never know. "Dude, James told us he'd seen you and Alex nearly kiss Alex on the bus," my eyes widened and I was quick to ask how he'd possibly seen that, bus windows weren't the easiest to see through. "He went back on to tell you and Alex to hurry up and instead found you knee-deep in a shift session," Mia exclaimed, a giggle in her tone. "Nothing happened. I just asked him to put my lipgloss on because I didn't bring my mirror." Both of them raised their eyebrows and slowly nodded. "Nothing happened," I repeated slower, making sure to make eye contact with both of them. They seemed to let it go, at least for now, and Becky's voice cut through the air and her arms were thrown over Aria and Mia's shoulders. I laughed at their surprised faces smiling at Becky who already seemed to have cracked up the drink she'd brought in her fanny pack. "Come on girls, let's go in before the boys yeah? The real show doesn't start till tomorrow when performers come so I say first stop the pier yeah? I want some candy floss." Becky looked at me, hoping I'd take her side so she'd get her damn candy floss and I complied, laughing and throwing my head back as I threw my arm over Mia's other side. "I'm down for some 1pm candy floss. Feel like we're going to have a lot of that this weekend ay?" Becky whooped again as Mia and Aria agreed and we all started to walk towards the entrance, Mia yelling for the boys to hurry up and follow before they got lost. Still, even as I laughed at another joke Becky told, posing for a video Mia was taking as we entered, I couldn't help but let my mind linger to that bus seat, to my wet lips of floss, to crystal blue eyes, to what could have happened. I tossed my head over my shoulder, hoping to see Will or George or James or even the fucking busman to distract myself but of course, instead, I met the same stupid blue eyes. He stopped talking and looked at me, I took a deep breath and then James nudged his side and Mia squeezed my ribs and the moment was over. God, this stupid tension had to arrive now, didn't it? Couldn't have waited till after festival season? Still, nothing a bit of alcohol couldn't help drown out, right? Right? "Are we going to go on the rides today lads or are we waiting for that madness till tomorrow?" George yelled over music playing, the night being relatively old at that point. Aria and James said they were heading to their tent now so they'd pass for now, as did Mia and Will after Mia persisted a little. Becky tucked her arm into mine and asked if I wanted to go to our tent yet since we were sharing and I thought it over, biting my cheek. The air still smelled like candy floss, as did Becky's breath and probably mine, though there was a slight sting that I put down to the few shots I'd downed so far, not enough to be pissed just yet. That was for Saturday night. I thought it over for another second before shaking my head, pulling back for Becky's grasp. "Actually Beck, you go ahead. I'm going to stay back with Alex," I turned and gave him a small smile, finally meeting his eyes for the first time since the incident and he smiled back. "He owes me a few hundred rides to live up to his earlier words, right Al?" "That's right. You can go back too if you want George, you keep yawning on me." "Yeah, I think I'll pass on watching whatever the fuck that's going to be you're right, I'll make sure Becky gets back to her tent fine. I'll wait with her till you decide what you're doing yeah?" I didn't ponder on what George meant and only let out a whoop, promising Becky I'd get back fine. She smiled, her nose scrunching and she pressed a kiss to my cheek before nodding at George to go. I watched her go with him, a few close encounters with people already puking on the ground from a really bad-or good-night depending on your perspective. I jumped when I felt someone take my hand until I realized it was Alex, his voice close to my ear, making me shrink away. "So Will and that are already boning huh? Think they could have waited till tomorrow to settle in at least." I snorted and pushed him away, gagging at that thought. "Jesus Alex please refrain from giving me that image. Will is still twelve years old to me. Not to mention little Aria with my man James." "Your man James? I'm offended I thought I was your man." There he goes again, that stupid your man joke. Still, it did make me smile genuinely, even if I rolled my eyes to hide how my face was so bright. I took his hand and let it rest over my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to it as we walked towards the flashiest ride. "Of course you're my man. My favourite man. But you currently aren't riding anything so I think you're a man backing out of his promise," I carefully evaded a man pissing, his poor girlfriend looking disgusted beside him, still keeping my eyes on Alex beside me. "Then let me prove it to you, three rides on this bastard. Unless you're too scared?" I chuckled, stopping to take his other hand and lean up, glaring me eyes threateningly. "Alex Elmslie, you're fucking on. The first to chicken out this weekend has to do what the other says." He thought about it for a moment before nodding, returning the glared eyes. "Okay, then y/n l/n. First challenge is this. Oh, and by the way, I'm not going to lose." Oh, it was definitely on. The last day arrived quicker than anyone wanted to and before I knew it, my suitcase was packed again, ready for the coach that would pick us up tomorrow. Still, there was one more night to enjoy and especially one last performance. Becky put her phone down, sighing as she tucked her hair behind her ear again. "Babe, we have to go soon. Billies performance will definitely be packed and I don't know about you, but I want to be as close as possible." I smile back, finally satisfied with my last day look. A simple soft pink makeup look complete with a light pink dress and flats. Flats made it a lot easier to hop around. "I'm ready Beck, just waiting for the others to show up at this point. You definitely told James and Aria to meet us here right?" Becky nodded, checking her phone again but her eyes rolling at the lack of new messages. I considered just going to save a spot for our group with just Becky until there was a yell outside asking if they could come in. A few moments later, James Marriotts face peeked through the now unzipped hole of our tent, a smile on his face. After another second, Arias's face appeared on top, face covered in pretty blue glitter. "You ready to be going then? Mia will kill me if we don't get a good spot." James tilted his head, a serious tone to his not really a joke-joke. "Oh I know," I edged towards the tent door, smiling. "She's been raving about this performance for weeks now. If she doesn't get to see more than a bean from a distance, she'll have all of our heads." Aria laughed and they both stood back, letting me step into the warm air. Ah, England's summers, surprisingly warm most of the time for such a known shit weather country. "Alex wouldn't shut up about it last night either to be fair though I suspect at least half of that was due to the drink." Becky followed me out and shared a glance with the couple. Aria licked her lips and looked away. Becky seemed to stifle a laugh, disguising it as a slight cough. I narrowed my eyes at James, hoping he'd crack and eventually he did, sighing. "Y/n, we were wondering if that stupid competition thing was still going on." I raised my eyebrows, falling into step with the trio as we headed for the stage she was performing at in an hour. "Yeah, we decided to keep it going till the festival was over. Why, would you like to join?" I teased, receiving unimpressed grunts from the whole group. Aria piped up next, seeming to take a long time in what she said next. For some reason, I felt like I wasn't going to like what she had to say. "It just feels like it's delaying the inevitable or something, that's all." "What's the inevitable?" "You and Alex getting married and having six children, three dogs and a cat." Becky chirped up, giggling. Aria and James laughed along with her. I could tell that I'd turned red and unfortunately, no makeup could cover that mess, which made everyone laugh a little harder. "I don't like Alex, we're just friends." "N/n, we were all there that night last year. Plus, there's behind such a weird vibe with you two lately, not to mention the way you look at each other all the time. Like bloody puppies or something." Aria tells me and this time, my face pales. That night a few months ago. It had been just another late night out at the club, some music playing in the distance as we all had a chat and chugging back as much as we could consume without dying. I decided to be brave and asked Alex to dance, tugging him to the floor before he could refuse. At first, we'd just been messing, twirling and more so stumbling around the place, clinging to each other for support as the world seemed to spin. It'd been just as I fell forwards the DJ announced they were starting romance hour, the music switching from stupid random beats to the soft vocals of Billie Eilish, singing about ocean eyes and falling from a height. Neither of us moved, my arms remaining wrapped around his neck as they had to stop me from falling, Alex's softly placed on my waist. "I like this song," I told him, leaning up to his ear on my tippy toes so he could hear me. "Me too, Billie's proper class." I snorted, falling back onto my heels. "It reminds me of you actually, this song," Alex tilted his head, pulling me in a little closer. "Because your eyes are blue are so pretty. You know, the first time we met the first thing I noticed was how pretty they were, even before I thought anything about how soft your hair looked. Will had to nudge me back to reality. Felt like everything just suddenly made sense." My words were slurred, heavily influenced by tequila and the heaviness starting to fall over my eyes. Still, I felt his lips press against mine, felt how it was better than any drink or drug. Perfectly moulded together, as though it was meant to be. I pulled him closer, fingers curling into his hair and he gripped desperately at my dress, his fingers able to be felt through the stupid fabric.When we'd pulled back, the song changed and I suggested we headed back to our friends, didn't look him in the eye. He agreed and we never spoke of it again. I had assumed our friends hadn't seen, that we'd been swallowed into the crowd as just another couple making out to a song. The look on my friends face at that moment told me otherwise."I just thought none of yous had seen that," I stammered, eyes looking to the ground so I didn't have to meet their eyes. "Of course we did, you were only a few feet away. Honestly, after that, we'd all just assumed you were dating in secret until this challenge thing." James explained, pointing to the girls to back him up. Both of them nodded, Aria looking slightly guilty and Becky just grinning.Great, everyone thought I was shagging my stupid crush. "Well we aren't, that was just a drunk mistake. Me and Alex are just friends, I promise." None of them looked convinced and I decided to pretend nothing had happened, saying we should hurry before all the good spots were taken. They didn't mention how I'd just moved on and agreed, breaking into a conversation about how excited they were instead. Even though I joined in, laughing when James told a joke or agreeing with Becky when she'd waffle, nothing could erase the strange feeling in my stomach. I couldn't quite decipher what it was, nervousness, guilt for lying about not liking Alex maybe, perhaps just pure excitement from seeing Billie. Whatever it was, it settled deep in my stomach and didn't go away, even as the others joined us at the spot we'd found. In fact, it only worsened when Alex landed beside me, whispering that the next challenge was to sing louder than the other, his hand resting ever so slightly on my shoulder. This would be a long night. My throat ached, begging for the relief I refused to give it as my voice croaked out the lyrics to bellyache like I'd be shot if I didn't. Alex gripped tightly at my wrists, both of us jumping up and down like idiots. I could hear Mia behind me, most likely on Will's shoulder and somewhere in front of me, George was laughing at Becky and James' awful slightly drunk dance moves, Aria most definitely recording to laugh at when they had sobered up. The rest of the world didn't matter at that moment and I pulled my wrists away from Alex's wrist to hold his face, laughing at his expression when I squeezed it. The song came to an end, turning into only loud cheering and instrumental as I croaked out that he looked extremely stupid. He pouted more and I laughed more, a slight snort coming out. The vibe of the audience changed when Billie sat down, announcing she'd be singing an oldie. Everyone got even more excited and couples linked together like magnets, arms around necks and eyes on eyes. I rolled my eyes at the gross displays of affection, letting my hands drop to rest on his shoulders. The first chord of the song played and I felt both of our bodies freeze, my throat becoming suddenly sore. Oh. It was that song. Of course, it was. Everyone else was too occupied to notice how we both stopped singing, how I opened and closed my mouth a few times before deciding to keep it shut. Except, of course, Alex and his stupidly perfect blue eyes, squarely focused on my own. "Al, we need to talk." No, we didn't, why did I say that. Shut up. "Okay." Great, no going back now. That'd make it worse. I cleared my throat. "You don't remember this but I can't pretend it didn't happen anymore. There was one night awhile ago, we were both very drunk. We had a moment and kissed. Everyone actually thought we were dating for ages." "Wait you remember that?" I nodded, swallowing harshly. If anyone had asked why my throat was suddenly dry and closing in, I'd have blamed hayfever. That would have been a lie. "N/n, I've been waiting for you to talk about it for ages. I thought you'd forgotten." My heart stopped, mind still doing cartwheels to try process the pure idiocy that was currently radiating off of both of us. Billie hit the chorus at the same time Alex leaned down ever so slightly, lips just grazing against mine for a moment as if testing the waters. I didn't hesitate to press my lips back against his, more full of emotion and present, saying everything my lack of worlds could never. I could hear the crowd cheering and clapping, the song ending, our friends whooping, but all I focused on was my heartbeat pounding out of my chest, his heartbeat against mine. When I finally pulled back, my eyes remaining closed for an extra beat to process what just happened, I saw him smile. Some people liked to say blue eyes were overrated and I used to find myself agreeing with them. Why so many love songs about boring old blue eyes, the most common eye colour, and not the mysterious browns and mesmerizing green? But at that moment, I understood. It felt like I'd seen him again for the first time but also met eyes with someone I'd known forever at the same time. A mixture of nostalgic warmth and crazed excitement wrapped into a crystalline package. Ocean eyes. And I understood. Mia threw her arm around my neck and yelled that this was our song, swinging me around. I chuckled, pulling her in closer by the waist and allowing her to tug me away. Alex didn't mind, turning around to talk, or rather shout, at Will, cheeks slightly tinted and a certain buzz in the way he laughed that wasn't there ever before. Pretty. "So," he said, arm around my shoulder and Ferris wheel slowly reaching the top. "What do you think about telling our friends we actually are dating this time?" I shrugged, nuzzling closer to the soft fabric of the hoodie he'd thrown on, probably leaving flecks of glitter that would never go away. He wouldn't care. He never cared about stuff like that. In fact, I think he had the right face for makeup. Maybe he'd let me do his makeup if I asked for a video, a festival look and q+a wrapped into one. The smell of cotton candy wafted up from above and somewhere below, I could just about hear Becky screaming on some ride. "They can figure it out themselves. Probably already have knowing our friends. Same with the fans honestly. Alex didn't answer, rubbing circles on my arm with his thumb instead. My body let out a shaky happy sigh. "Look, we're at the top now. Stopped for just a moment too." I peeked one eye open and smiled at the pretty sight before us, the lights of the rides mixing with phone flashlights and distant concert stages, smells of food stands, drink, weed, the sound of faint music, screams, laughter, happy yelling. Of course, the prettiest sight to me was the shimmering stars high above us, our interlocked hands resting on his chest. As I heard Becky let out another shriek, I was reminded of something from earlier that weekend and smile cheekily, sitting up to properly look at my boyfriend. God that felt to think without it being imaginary. "You know, technically you stopped singing before me which means you lost our game." "That sounds fair to me. So, whats my challenge then?" I pretended to think, finger tapping my chin as if I didn't already know exactly what I was going to say. "You have to be the one to tell Becky shes staying with George tonight because you're staying with me." He raised his eyebrow and turned a bright shade of red. I only smiled wider. "You lost the game, Al, those were the rules." "I haven't lost anything actually, I'd say I won a lot today," he held our interlocked hands up. And, if I wasn't so very in love with him, I would have puked. Because I was, I just rolled my eyes and made him promise to not back out. He insisted he wouldn't and walked straight over to Becky the second we were off the ride. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a bit more embarrassed than him suddenly when Becky gasped and grabbed my arm, giving it a slight shake and congratulating me on moving from big fat crush to a big fat relationship. The next Sunday, new pictures dotted my bedroom wall and my Instagram feed. There was a few that overlapped, a group shot by the pier, picture of me and the girls all on a ride, Becky laughing so hard alcohol shot out of her nose, me and Will recreating the same photo we did every year, but most were only on my wall. Me and George taking a shot at the same time, arms interlocked, James watching on with pride. Aria and a random stranger who happened to be wearing the same shoe hugging. Me and Mia in our outfits, laughing so hard we cried or spilling drinks on ourselves. A lot of Will and me simply existing together, whether it be dancing or screaming on a ride. Strangers I found interesting. But most were of Alex. A shot someone snapped when we were on the Ferris wheel. Selfies from just about every location at the festival. And of course, my personal favourite, the one James took on the bus on our way home, when this time when he applied my lipstick, I immediately ruined it with a kiss that told our friends everything they needed to know. When I sat down by the edge of my bed to admire my handiwork, years of photos mixing and telling a story, Alex grunted slightly and woke up from his sleep. He sleepily asked if I'd like to make brownies in a bit before pressing a kiss to my cheek, resting his head on my shoulder. His shampoo filled my nose and the soft material of his jumper pressed against my skin. God, I was ever so glad I understood why there were so many songs about blue eyes.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Roses In A Storm

Part One of Three: We’re Not Done Yet

Prelude | Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,777

Warnings: Sadness, grief, blood, violence, excess drinking, anger, murder, talks of weed use, I think that may be it.

Request: By so many but mainly @missmonsters2​. Happy??

Summary: Unhinged and grieving. You get a very special guest.

A/N: This is the ending to “Soulmates”.

Ko-Fi

(Not my GIF)

***

To say you became unhinged after Tony's funeral, was an understatement.

Your entire being crumbled. And you became a shell of the person you used to be.

You cared about nothing and no one. Not even yourself.

You had told Fury he could, respectfully, shove your job up where the sun doesn't shine. And stormed out of his office, with him calling after you.

And that wizard dude.

What was his name?

Stanly?

Sherlock?

Samantha?

Fucking, Benadryl Copypaper?

You didn't know, you couldn't remember?

But that wasn't the point. What was the point, however, was how much Socriteis-Harry Potter bothered you- Stephen Strange!- That was wand-boys name!

Anyway!

He had been bugging the shit outa you ever since you left the lake house.

You could kill him.

Texts, emails, letters, calls, fucking popping out of nowhere. With all this "we're not done yet" bullshit. Yada, yada, yada. To be completely honest, you didn't listen to a single word he ever said, so you wouldn't know.

Luckily, he didn't randomly pop out from one of his orange portals, as much as the other things. So, you didn't have to actively try to dodge, escape, and punch him the fuck out evade him all that much.

But you could still fucking kill him.

Currently, you were stood, overlooking The Hudson River, staring at The Statue Of Liberty. The cold had just started to settle in, Autumn slowly turning into winter, frost visibly coating the ground.

Natasha loved this time of year.

It wasn't too hot that she would feel like she was melting, and it wasn't too cold for her to have to bundle up too much to step out. It was just perfect. She always liked it on the chilly side.

You remember once a few years ago before you had even met Penny and started this whole heart-breaking spiral. Natasha had dragged you out of the tower, her hand in yours as she literally dragged you. And towards the coffee shop she had recently found in the Soho area, what she was doing there in the first place, you didn't ask, out of fear of being threatened. Because you knew Natasha would never, actually, hurt you.

It was a fantastic day out.

One of the best times of your life.

The day had started off early, at around ten AM at that coffee shop, which you had to admit, was amazing. Followed by a store Natasha wanted to check out for Clints Christmas present. Then you had lunch, followed by more shopping.

You were pretty sure this was all one big day for Natasha to find out what gift to get you. But, none the less, you spent the entire day together. Even ending the day by staying over at Natasha's apartment, after walking her home. Because you were a gentleman like that. And also, there were way too many bags for her to carry.

Who knew that the Black Widow could shop like it was a sport?

At the end of the day, you came to the conclusion that she would win gold in the Olympics for it if she could. She could win gold in the Olympics on most of the sports if we're being truly honest.

It was a date.

Not your first one, by far.

But it was a date.

You realised that now.

Way too late.

That wasn't just Natasha's way of finding out what to get you for Christmas. She wanted to take you out on a date.

And you were way too fucking clueless to realise that.

You just wish you could make up for that now.

You wished you could hold her in your arms again.

The way you were always supposed too.

Not as friends. But as lovers.

But now, you had to live without her. So you did what you always did to get through the day.

You drank.

You found the closes bar that was open at the early hours of the morning, sat down on one of the dingy stools, and drank.

Little did you know, that sitting at that bar, would change your life forever.

***

The sound of glass smashing behind you caused your eyes to snap wide open, startled at the sudden noise. But you didn't care enough to turn around and check the commotion out, from your place leaning on the bar, with your glass of whisky pressed to your temple.

"This is bullshit!" Came a gruff voice.

"Hey," that same voice said. It's owner shoving against your shoulder harshly, "Avenger."

"That's not my job anymore," you replied coldly, to the scruffy man, with a long dirty blonde beard.

You had seen him around this bar, that you had quickly made your regular, but had never caught his name.

"No, but you were one," he spat out drunkenly.

"Well done," your tone was sarcastically chipper, "Would you like a sticker for being such a big, smart boy?" The sickly sweet smile that was on your face fell, as you turned back to take a hearty swig of your drink.

"You motherfucker."

Just as he was about to shove you off of your stool, the bartender spoke up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Do you really want to go up against an ex-Avenger?"

"Shut up, Weasel!"

"Yeah," you told the bartender, smirking as you did, "He's a big boy, remember. He can make his own mistakes."

"'Mistake'?!" the bearded man barked out, "Ha! No. This is going to be the best thing I've ever done."

"I think you've drank too much there, dirtier Hagrid."

He slammed his fist down onto the bar, furious at your calm state.

"You see that up there?" He pointed up to the long chalkboard above the bar. "That's the Dead Pool, and you're the highest one to win-"

Without even sparing the board a glance you quipped, "Yes. I am able to read."

You didn't even flinch when the man flicked out a switchblade right by your cheek, just continued to drink your burning liquor.

"I want that money. And I'm gonna get it. But first, I'm gonna cut out your tongue so you can't say any more smart-ass remarks."

"Wow. 'remarks'. That the smartest word you have in your vocabulary?"

A laugh sounded from behind you. One, predictably, from your new-found friend, Wade. Just as the man to your lefts anger bubbled up, flowing from the brim.

"Oh, you motherfuck-"

He brought his blade back, intending to stab you in the back, as he spoke. That is before your almost empty glass smashed into the side of his face, glass flying everywhere, especially into his face and your palm. The man yelled out in pain. And before he could retaliate by trying to stab you again, you quickly disarmed him, fracturing his arm as you did so. Then plunging the switchblade into his right thigh, making him scream out in pain. Ad finally, you delivered a crushing blow to his chest, by kicking him down to the floor, along with a couple of barstools, breaking a few of his ribs in the process.

Most of the people in the -once nunnery- bar, sounded out their happiness at witnessing a fight, no matter how outmatched the people were to each other. While the man groaned on the floor, trying his hardest to stand up, while a few of his buddies helped him up.

"Told you so," Weasel said offhandedly, his face sporting a cringe.

"You sonofabitch!" he spat out -like, literally spat... gross-, as he tried his hardest to keep his tears at bay.

"You- You stabbed me," he stuttered, pointing at you.

"That's right, Einstein. I did."

"You'll pay for that. You'll fucking pay!" He hoppled closer to you so that you were now face to face. Leaving his buddies behind.

"I can't wait." You smiled.

"There's no fucking wonder the bitch you drank overthrew herself off of a fucking cliff." Your smile dropped. "Anything to get away from you. To never have to see your face again."

Bad idea.

Your sight turned into an intense hue of red, so much so that the man's beard turned ginger.

Rage boiled up within you. The only other time you had felt this angry was when you found out that Natasha was gone, and she was never coming back, and that it was all that purple Titan's fault.

You hit him.

Of course, you fucking hit him.

With all your might.

No one said that kind of shit about Natasha. And especially not to your face.

But you weren't fighting a titan this time.

You were fighting a drunken burly man.

A drunk burly man who could take a fucking punch.

But you chalked that up to his adrenaline and how intoxicated he was.

He was sure to feel it all in the morning.

He stumbled from your punch. The knife, still in his leg, tearing against his flesh, causing more blood to spill from the wound.

And for Weasel's skin to tingle green, when he saw it.

The bearded man's friends rushed up to him, as yours did the same to you, holding you back from the man. As you roared at him.

"You're one stupid motherfucker, you know that?! It's like you've got a fucking death wish!"

He spat blood at you while laughing, "You really think she loved you! Wouldn't she still be here if she did?!"

You exhaled hotly. Fury pouring from your every pore.

The familiar cold metal filled your hand as you pulled the trigger of your concealed gun, shooting the man between the eyes.

Okay... so, maybe he wouldn't feel everything in in the morning...

His friends were just as idiotic as he was. Them all moving to pull out their own guns, but you made quick work of them.

Two more head shots. And one shot to the neck.

Even drunk, your marksmanship was impeccable.

"Well..." Wade said slowly, as the whole bar grew silent. Patting you on your back, he continued, "You just won yourself ten grand."

"Awesome," you muttered, "I'm buying everyone their drinks for the rest of the day!"

That got the bar cheering again.

"What the fuck, Y/L/N?!"

You turned around at the new voice. Coming face to face with Nick Fury, who looked beyond angry.

"Nick!" you cheered, "Take a seat, have a drink.- I'm paying!"

"Yes. I heard."

The man watched you for a few moments, noting how intoxicating you were. But was still able to see the coldness behind your eyes, that wasn't there before.

But a lot of things had changed since then.

Fury sighed.

"We need to talk."

***

"Hey, Weasel! Can I get another drink over here, please?!" you called over to your friend and bartender, who nodded at you.

You sat at a small table in the back of the bar, with Fury to your right, and Wade to your left.

The bodies of the four men you had shot down, already cleared away, and the drinks you had promised the patrons, poured.

"You still shot down four men in cold blood, Y/L/N," Fury continued on with his rant, that had been going on since you first sat down with him, not even fifteen minutes ago. You rolled your eyes, just as Weasel cam over, placing a full bottle of whisky down in front of you.

"If it makes you feel any better," the bartender began, facing Fury, "Those guys were plotting to kidnap some kids for ransom."

Fury just starred at the fidgeting man, with a blank eye. No emotion showed on his hard face, which only made Weasel more anxious.

"Right. I'll just go then."

"It makes him feel better, Weasel!" you called to the retreating man.

Even after months of not seeing the man, you could still read his, almost always, blank face, like an open book. It was a skill you wore proudly like a badge of honour. You doubted if your skill would ever fade.

Fury 'humphed' at you. Knowing full well that you were right, as he watched you take a swig of whisky straight from the bottle.

"You've changed, Y/N."

"No shit," you said harshly, "Wouldn't you?"

Fury sighed, for the umpteenth time since you've been talking to him.

"Listen Y/L/N-"

"Sorry to interrupt," Weasel said, "Making you smile into your bottle of alcohol, "But not really- What happened yo your eye?"

"He won't tell you, trust me. I've been asking him about it for years."

Wade hummed, squinting his eyes at the scars coming from behind Fury's eye patch, from his half rolled up mask, while taking a sip from his pina colada.

"My eye is not the focus, right now," Fury barked.

"Oh, but can it be?"

"Yeah, I beg to differ," Wade carried on, waving his finger at the fore talked about eye, "It looks like you got scratched by an itty-bitty kitty-cat."

"Bold words from the man whose lips look like a gaping asshole," Fury fired back, causing you to laugh so hard that tears started seeping from your eyes.

You wiped at your eyes as you regained as much of your composure as possible at that moment. Muttering to yourself, "I'm so drunk."

"Okay, listen. I came here for a reason- Don't." Fury pointed at both you and Wade, glaring at you in warning as to not interrupt him, with your remarks, or just in a general. "Strange has been trying to contact you, Isn't that right, Y/L/N?"

"Yeah. He wants me to work for him, go back to work for you, or something. I don't know, I didn't listen to him. He can go fuck himself."

"Strange?" Wade asked

"Yeah." You nod. "The portal guy I told you about."

"Oh. Shitty Harry Potter?!"

"That's the bitch!"

"Okay, that's enough!" Fury yelled, slamming his hands down onto the table, causing the drinks upon it to shake.

"Okay, damn. What's up you dating him, or something?" you asked.

"No, I'm not dating him," Fury growled.

"It's okay if you're gay." You nodded at Wade's words. "We don't care. We're both gay as fuck."

"I'm not!" Fury stopped himself from fishing his sentence, taking a breath and then exhaling it before he started speaking again. "I'm not dating Strange. But you do need to talk to him."

"Yeah, not gonna happen."

"Just hear him out."

"There's no reason for me too! What? He's gonna ask me to help him out with some hero bullshit. Well, I don't do that anymore."

"Yeah, I've noticed with all of the vigilante work you've been doing with your new friend here." Fury nodded towards Wade, who placed a hand over his heart.

"Oh, you've heard of my work. You flatter me."

"I'm not a vigilante I'm a hitman," you spoke at the same time.

"You're a what?"

"A hitman. If I'm gonna do this shit, might as well get paid for it." You shrugged.

"Or you could not just do it."

You shrugged once again. "It's what I'm good at. And it's the only thing that seems to distract me from this unbearable pain- Well. That and drinking. Also, weed. So much weed."

Fury put his head in his hands, shaking it against his palms, because of your words.

"Good job, Y/N. You broke him!"

"Stop it, both of you," Fury muttered.

"I know, it's so easy. It's a skill really."

"Stop," Fury ordered.

"What's up, Nick?" you asked, "Someone bugging you? Need me to kill ew? I'll give you a friend's and family discount."

"Just listen to strange!"

"Okay."

"Wait. Really?" Fury asked.

"For the right amount."

You smirked as Fury groaned.

"I'm not paying you to listen to Strange."

"Then I guess I ain't listening to him then."

"He wants to talk about Natasha!" he yelled.

Slowly pulling the whisky bottle from your lips, you placed it back on the table.

"What about Natasha?" you asked blankly.

Fury sighed again, thankful that you were finally listening to him. "Listen to what he has to say."

"What does he have to say?"

"It's better coming from him. I don't know everything and I know you'll have a lot of questions. Most of them stupid."

Gritting your teeth, you exhaled deeply. "Fine... I'll talk to him."

"Thank, God."

"You gonna set up a meeting for us?"

"No need." Fury smiled."What do you-?" Suddenly you screamed, plummeting down the portal that just materialised on the seat of your chair.

"Now we're playing with portals!" Wade joked.

Fury shook his head, picking up his drink. "I hate you."

"So... what is the story with your eye?"

"Go fuck yourself, Wilson."

"Well, if you insist."

***

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love​

[lemonpeter]

Day 30 - Power Bottom (Peter/Tony)

Decided to make this one a continuation of day 6! So you don’t need to read that one first, but you might like to 😉 I hope everyone enjoys 🧡

Warnings: power bottom Tony, college aged Peter, mild cum eating (just a sentence or two at the end)

————

Neither of them wanted to wait long, patience be damned. Tony was still hard and Peter was still riding the high of the situation. There was no point in even pretending that they wanted to wait.

Peter shot a quick text to his roommate, just to let him know that he wouldn’t be home that night. Claimed it was because they were on the edge of a breakthrough with something.

Not entirely a lie.

Tony waited until Peter’s phone was back in his bag before he pressed him to the wall, kissing him hard. “Upstairs. Now,” he whispered. Then he smirked. “Unless you’d just want to do it down here,” he said cooly.

Peter shivered, both at the words and the tone of the older man’s voice. “I think...uh...” he swallowed hard as he thought about both situations.

Upstairs, he could have Tony in his bed. It was more romantic in his mind, it was intimate, it was...well, normal. What he expected from a first time with someone.

But staying in the lab had promise. They spent so much time together there, it seemed more personal to their relationship. And something about it just felt that much dirtier, even given what they’d just done.

Tony watched the younger man as he thought, chuckling. “Which one of those is getting you all excited again?” He gestured to where Peter’s cock had started to swell and rise again. “Doesn’t take you long, huh. That’s really good to know.”

Peter blushed, hands dropping like he wanted to cover himself. “I was...I was thinking about doing it here. Because then when we meet here again we’ll remember....”

“Good choice,” Tony murmured, leaning in and kissing him again. His hands slid over the man’s hips and to his waist, pushing his shirt up. His fingers dipped between the muscles of his abdomen and he made a pleased sound. “God, I don’t get why you still hide these. You’re a masterpiece, honey.”

Peter’s cheeks burned under the praising words, biting his lip.

The older man pulled away just enough to grab onto his own tank top and pull it off, tossing it away. He didn’t care where it went. Just wanted it off. “There we go. Now you.” He watched him expectantly.

Slowly Peter pulled his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. He didn’t once break the eye contact with Tony.

“Good boy.” The man grinned, moving back to him and cupping the back of his head with one hand as he pulled him in for another kiss.

The younger man was clearly not the most experienced, but he seemed to be a quick learner. He gently bit Tony’s lip, shivering at the groan that it pulled from him.

Most of their kisses were passionate, full of fire. But then there were the soft kisses in between the firey ones. The quick, gentle kisses that were barely more than a brush of lips.

Peter felt Tony’s hard cock against his stomach, neglected from their previous activities. He had to take care of that. He wanted to make things equal.

So he slowly snuck a hand between them, wrapping his slim fingers around him.

Tony grunted against his lips, slowly breaking the kiss. “Kid, no offense, but I’m not looking for some half assed handjob right now. I was thinking we could get right to the main event.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed, burning crimson as he slowly pulled his hand away. “Yes. Right. Yeah, sorry, just...yeah.”

The older man slowly pulled away, stretching. Then he walked to a drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube that he tossed to Peter.

“Do you want me to....” he trailed off, looking at the bottle. He wasn’t sure what role Tony wanted him to play. And he wasn’t so sure about having anything inside of him.

Tony hummed. “You can prep me if you want. If you don’t want to, toss it back here. Either way, get your ass over here.” He leaned over the desk, just like he had been before. When they first started messing around.

Peter bit his lip, nodding quickly. He could definitely do that. He relaxed, moving over to the other man.

There was still drying cum on his skin, and Peter blushed as he remembered how it got there. That was all him. And-

“Wait, do you have a condom or anything? Just to grab it now so that we don’t have to in a minute.”

“You’re clean, right?” Tony asked in response, turning to look at the other man without moving from where he was bent over.

“....yeah.”

Tony faced forward again. “So no condom. I want to feel you filling me up, call it a fantasy of mine.”

Peter almost outright moaned at that, cock giving a twitch. Okay. He definitely needed to get Tony prepped so that they could start.

He slowly got some of the lube on a couple of his fingers, a bit too much as it dripped onto the floor. Oops.

Then he slowly moved one hand to Tony’s ass, biting his lip as he spread the cheeks apart so he could pour some more of the slick onto his hole.

Tony shivered slightly, but managed to keep mostly still. “Make sure there’s enough. I haven’t done this in a while with an actual person, so I’m a bit...” he sniffed, trying to think of the right words. “Well, I’ll probably have some trouble walking tomorrow, let’s just say that. So make sure you’ve got enough and you do this properly. Make things easier on us both.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter said obediently, first finger slowly pressing against Tony’s hole.

The muscle was tight and Peter knew that there would need to be a lot of prep to make sure that he didn’t hurt the man. So he made sure to do everything thoroughly.

Once he was completely sure he was done with prep, Tony was panting and absolutely ready to be fucked.

“Kid, if you don’t get inside of me right the fuck now, I’m gonna lose it,” he warned playfully, breathing hard. He clenched down around nothing, silently mourning the loss of Peter’s fingers inside of him. But he knew that something better was coming.

Peter laughed a little, slicking up his cock with extra lube as he listened. He wanted to be sure that there wouldn’t be any sort of pain for Tony, so he was extra careful. “I’ll be there in just a second, sir....”

He watched how the older man’s hole - now stretched and loose - fluttered and clenched on nothing as he waited to be filled again. It was really just so hot and he couldn’t wait to feel it around his cock. He got behind him slowly and gently rubbed his cockhead against the loose hole.

“Are you ready?” Peter asked, almost sounding shy.

“God, Peter, yes I am ready. I’ve been ready. Please just stick your fucking cock in me.”

The words were bordering on hostile, but Tony’s tone was so desperate that Peter didn’t exactly feel threatened by it.

But he slowly started sinking in, both moaning at the feeling.

Tony was impatient, instantly trying to press his hips back for more. He was so hard that he was aching and he didn’t want to wait long to cum. Even if he knew that Peter wouldn’t last long.

Peter was completely still, weakly holding onto Tony’s hips. The feeling of the warm and slick muscles right around him was almost too much and he really had to concentrate not to cum instantly. And having Tony trying to fuck back into him wasn’t helping.

“Wait, wait,” he breathed, biting his lip.

Tony glanced back to him, wrapping a hand around his own cock and stroking slowly. “Peter, I know you’re not gonna last long. It’s okay. Just make me cum and I’ll forgive you,” he teased.

Peter nodded weakly, moving to replace Tony’s hand on his cock with his own. Then he slowly began stroking, then moving his hips.

The fucking wasn’t exactly what Tony had been craving. The harsh, quick fuck that he usually imagined when he though about bottoming.

But Peter was sweet. And really just trying to make him feel good. So he couldn’t be too bothered by it.

And he did feel incredible, filled up by the thick cock and being able to fuck into Peter’s fist as well. It was all pretty wonderful.

Peter moaned, movement stuttering for a moment. But even as hard as he tried to hold himself back, he knew it was too late.

Tony chuckled, pressing back again. “I told you, it’a alri-“ he shut his eyes, groaning as he felt himself be filled up with the warm cum.

Peter’s hand on him faltered for the moment and he made a discontent noise.

“Hey, I know you feel good, but I still want to cum,” he mumbled, hips moving slowly.

The younger man seemed to come back to his senses to some capacity, nodding quickly. Then his hand began moving again, much faster than before. And that was Tony’s undoing.

The cock in his ass, the load he was filled with, and the quick motion he was getting on his cock all felt incredible, all at once. So it wasn’t long before he was crying out, head slumped forward as he came all over Peter’s hand and the floor.

“We’re...we’re gonna need to work on that stamina,” he murmured, brain still foggy with his high. “But not bad for the first time,” he complimented.

Peter blushed, slowly pulling his hand away. Then he shyly licked the cum off of his fingers when he knew that Tony couldn’t see him. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered. “We can work on it?” He said hopefully. “Like, this will happen again?”

“Absolutely it will. As long as you want it to,” Tony told him, relaxing against the desk. “But for now...you might need to carry me upstairs. Maybe we can try some other things tonight.” He yawned. “Although maybe just some sleep would be good.”

Peter laughed softly. “Okay, Mr. Stark. That sounds good to me.”

[cybiluncivilised]

Yucky Dirty Medieval People

So, I posted a video about this to TikTok, in which my hair is awful and I framed it badly... I think the worse my videos are the more comfortable I feel putting them up.

I keep seeing videos and posts on how people were not dirty in the medieval era and apparently we're still needing to get the message across. I've seen a couple of people mention that Medieval People (people from an incredibly broad 1000 year era in history) thought that water wasn't good to wash with because it spread disease. This was a renaissance era belief, apparently, and we have very clear guidance on bathing and when and how to do it in the medieval era.

I actually am not a huge expert on this, but think it's worth discussing. In the parts of Europe the Reenactment Soc I'm in represents, bathing was discussed as a very decadent and vane thing to do very often. I tend to take the opinion that if someone was complaining about it, then people were definitely doing it.

I would really appreciate if someone who had better knowledge than me tagged me in a post that basically covers good facts and resources on this! I'd det it up for a scheduled reblog quarterly to make sure people kept seeing it because why are we talking about this?

It was a lot of effort to get a nice warm bath going and in the cooler places like the United Kingdom you were starting with basically colder water but people are recorded to have still bathed in rivers. People definitely sponge bathed often with linen cloths and towels, they definitely took measures to smell nice including wearing perfume and brushing their teeth. What they had and how well these things worked depended on where and how people lived, a lord might chew on a piece of cardamon for sweeter breath and a peasant would go for something more like mint.

I also personally believe what was considered "clean" and what was considered "moral" were very linked in those days. The line between being pious and being clean were a little blurred, I mean. Right now it's easy to see that being clean in a world of disease and infection is a social responsibility. A person who doesn't practice good infection control is a "bad person".

When I see more discourse on how people covered their hair as a religious principal it really hammers it home for me. Protecting hair keeps it cleaner, we know this. People washed their hair less often, but they covered it up because it's just absolutely unheard of, vane, unpious, to not do so.

Clothes

This is what I actually made my TikTok about.

I went on a pilgrimage with our Master at Arms (the person who inspects all the hard kit in our society) and we got lovely and muddy! I left my stuff with him, because he was going to wash his kit he may as well wash mine as well. Honestly, I was tired, lazy, and just couldn't be bothered to carry two bags home from his instead of one. I KNEW that there was a high chance he wouldn't do it straight away. I KNEW what would happen if he didn't. I feel guilty for putting him in that position but the repercussions are mine to deal with so that's ok. His stuffs fine so ladeedahhhh XD

People absolutely, completely, definitely washed their clothes pretty much as soon as they got muddy. Having sat and made this kit, knowing that fabric was more expensive as a proportion of your costs overall and that you'd actually want to look after these things, knowing the labour I put into these garments, I know no one would let this happen.

I'm going to keep working on washing these. I could pick up some materials to make lie from my parents, who have a log burner, but I'll give handwashing with a bar of soap a go.

This is, for me, a demonstration of how important experimental archaeology is. I could make a post on what I learned specifically from the pilgrimage.

Things I feel certain of, women probably wore winningas and I'm sure they pulled their skirts up, or at least their underskirt somehow. Just avoid getting mud on your linens, if you can. Wool seems to cope better with it in general, or maybe ours did because ours were all in brown and brown adjacent colours.

Winningas are long strips (like, 10-14') of about 3" wide, hemmed wool, secured around the foot and calves under or sometimes instead of shoes.

We did speculate that a lot of people would get more comfortable with a wimple falling off during a long pilgrimage but I'm honestly thinking maybe not, still. I think that people who wore wimples and veils and such every day were much better ta wearing them than me.

Anyway, my reflections on medieval laundry are flawed by my personal feelings. I strongly feel that someone who spent money and time making something, in a world where being dirty might make you a "bad person" but also made you look poorer and everyone hates poor people, would want to keep their linens looking as good as possible. Linens had the function of protecting your outer clothes from sweat from your body, so it may have been an accepted fact that they were just "dirtier", even though their smell deterring, sweat whicking, purposes only actually worked if you washed them quite often - like at least twice a week maybe.

Maybe I should do a few weeks in medieval kit, tilling some land and such. See how well I can cope, mostly having sponge baths, mostly just washing the linens. Hahahaha

Thank you for reading, I really enjoyed getting this off my chest!

(I spent ten minutes earlier editing this post before posting it and it somehow still posted my earlier draft FFS so sorry if you read this the awful time round!!! It's super annoying that it did that and I'm super pissed thank you Tumblr.)

[mordogeira]

A_4030: 「Sister」 - Furiae 1.3 Novella summary

Hello all! I decided to make a detailed summary of the Furiae 1.3 novella featured in the Drag on Dragoon 3 Guide. Ever since I learned about it I wanted to know more, so now that I can finally read it, I wanted to share it with you all. 

This is not a translation! However, I did try to go as much into important detail as possible. I added some direct quotes here and there too. Huge thanks to @disilllusions over on twitter for proofreading this!

Author: 白本奈緒

Enjoy!

The novel starts with Furiae being awoken in her tent, which is part of a currently deployed troop of soldiers. It's established that contrary to the distant past, dragons and humans now work closely together and form unified corps taking part in battle. It used to be unusual, but is now considered normal.

Furiae notes that the boy who came to fetch her wields an intimidating sword which is completely unlike the slender frame of the one wielding it. As he tells her that the Commander asked for her, she thinks that just like him, she now too needs to wield her sword alongside the one's fighting. ("そうだ。もうすぐ私も同じように剣をてにとり、あの人と戦う.")

The situation of the army is thoroughly explained, mostly in favor of it. As she goes looking for the commander, Furiae encounters a dog she's seen around a lot. The dog is excited to see her, and she notes that he reminds her of her younger self, when she used to follow her brother around. However, as she does not want him to be accidentally crushed by a dragon, she tells him to stop and stay, but the dog is having a hard time following orders. The soldier notes that just like that dog, the soldiers morale is only up, because Furiae is present at the frontlines. The other soldiers laugh, and Furiae smiles back, because she is „a good girl“. (“フリアエはいい子ね、と微笑みかけた.“)

She moves on to meet a silver colored dragon, who seems to enjoy Furiaes presence and her soft touch. The dragon remains silent, but reacts to her petting him with satisfied sounds. Furiae notes that the fighting will start soon as preparations conclude. Behind her, she notices boys running around as they get ready, with one particular being followed by a younger girl, who desperately calls after her brother. He seems bothered, but takes her hand and matches her speed as they move on. Furiae remembers the distant past, when she too used to follow the back of a particular person in hopes of them turning around, just like that girl, and just like that dog. („あの少女のように、あの犬のように、ただ振り向いてほしくて.“)

And as she used to call out to her brother, he did turn around to grasp her hand. But as her hand remained small and fragile, her brothers grew stronger, dirtier, muddled with blood. Still, she wants to keep on grasping that hand.

Furiae remembers the past once more, and how good it made her feel that Caim always made sure to turn to her and grasp her hand. There is a big emphasis on his kindness and the warmth she feels from his actions towards her. Caim is described as taciturn, but welcoming person who always cared about his sister. The days she spent with him in the Carleon castle were the most carefree, loving and beloved days she had ever experienced.

But once Caim picked up the sword, he became completely absorbed in his training, to the point that he would not respond to Furiaes calls' as before. Overswept with anxiety that he may come to hate her if she bothered him too much, she resolved not to become a hindrance to him. From then on, she would only look at him from afar. He was still kind, so she did her best not to be in his way. Or to fall in love with him. But to her dismay, it happened still.

She remembers the day Caims' birthday celebration. During festivity prepation red eyed forces suddenly appeared as out of nowhere and starting slaughtering everybody. The kind, the serious, the kitchen staff, the good soldiers, everybody Furiae knew. So much blood flowed, she did not know whose it was anymore. Once the black dragon appeared and started devouring everybody, all she could recount was the stench and color of blood.

Ever since, everything had been stained red to her („あのひ、視界も世界も全て赤く染まった.“)

The memories of this event stress her to the point of a near panic attack, but she manages to think of different memories to calm herself.

After that incident, the lands were sent into turmoil as fightings started to break out. Amidst this chaos, dragons and humans started working together. Caim became one of them, commanding a red dragon. Caim became consumed by the thought of revenge, and threw himself into battle together with his dragon time and time again. He stopped hearing his sisters calls.

But in this messed up world, both would only have each other as family, and Furiae kept on clinging to that.

Saddling the silver dragon, Furiae gets ready for the next planned assault. She was to attack the retreating Prince of the opposing faction, as he was evacuating through the mountains with his forces, ambushing him. The assault is a success, and the slaughter commences. Just like back then, the stench of blood fills the air, screams are reverberating, fire burns all. And just as the battle reaches its highpoint, even more screams herald the arrival of another dragon, Caims’ red dragon.

Seeing him, Furiae gets overwhelmed with emotions. Her only objective is to get to him, and so she dodges every enemy attack on her dragon while Caim and his dragon attack the opposing force.

Furiae rushes after Caim frantically, continuously calling out to him, but he does not seem to react to her. She turns more desperate the longer he ignores her, until she gets overwhelmed by her feelings and her surroundings. She keeps calling out to him, telling him about how much she changed herself so she could become worthy of him. She tells him she's dirty and stained now, and begs him once more to turn around and look at her. Caim continues to not react, so Furiae takes more drastic measures: Commanding her dragon to attack the red dragon, reading her sword to reach out to him, it rushes towards the red one. Though to her surprise, instead of hitting both, she loses her arms, bitten off by the other dragon. No longer being able to reach out to her brother, she starts questioning her worth. Before she can do anything more, the red dragon attacks both with another bout of fire, making both fall to the ground.

As the opposing forces celebrate the defeat of the silver dragon, Furiae laments that Caim did not look at her until the bitter end, he never turned around to her. But still, she loves him. To her, he is still the kindest person she's ever known. Her vision turns red, just like the day they lost their parents. Once more she tries to call out to her brother, but she cannot.

[anika-ann]

Ground Rules (for Love and War) - Pt.1

Of War and Peace

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader        Word count: 3860

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Summary: Steve Rogers always has been a bit of a mystery – always polite, with a little bit of foot-in-mouth syndrome, unbelievingly kind and definitely good-looking – but a mystery anyway. He treated you differently from his friends. Why?

 You would never expect the ongoing prank war between Bucky and Sam to shed light on the matter.Of course, Tony Stark is also to blame. Whenever he isn’t? You are his assistant – you would know.

Warnings: silly pranks, blackout, attempt at humour, swearing… fluff and way too shy Steve

A/N: Loosely based on a request from AO3 from Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers: awkward flirtatious Steve and Tony’s-Assistant!Reader, Sam-Bucky prank war and a power-cut. Whole request in the notes under the first chapter.

Sam Wilson was a brave man, you thought.

An undoubtedly handsome, considerably capable, loyal to a fault, but first of all, an incredibly brave man.

That was the only logical explanation of him declaring a prank war to James Buchannan Barnes; and it started by the Falcon himself reminding everyone who followed his Twitter that Bucky’s middle name was indeed Buchannan and he loved to be called that.

The truth was that calling Bucky that name was bordering with dangerous. Pulling out a stunt like Sam had, now that was like singing up his own death sentence.

“Wilsoooon!” Bucky howled through the corridors and you jumped in your seat before smirking into your second cup of coffee that day.

You wondered what Sam had done this time. Ever since the first Twitter event, both Sam and Bucky were stepping up their game.

Social media pranks. Sugar-salt switching. Soaped door handles. Hair dye in shampoo. Itching powder. Glue on a mug. You name it.

They were like infants. Worse even. As if the Tower needed more men-children in it. As if Tony wasn’t enough.

Now, Tony Stark was a brilliant man; distracted, sarcastic, a maniacal scientist and a hero, whom you were honoured to call your boss. Except Pepper Potts was the one in charge, pulling the strings and hiring you after she had become the CEO of Stark Industries, because she could no longer be his assistant.

Because Tony Stark was a genius of a man-child who needed constant supervision. He needed a girl Friday and F.R.I.D.A.Y. sometimes wasn’t enough. Enter you. A glorious secretary with an engineering degree and enough patience to deal with him. Hand-picked by Virginia Potts herself, sometimes being chosen to go to a meeting with her to represent Tony’s intentions rather than him, since you were less likely to piss people off, being able to keep cockiness in check.

But damn, weren’t you proud.

Your train of thought was cut short as the former Winter Soldier strode into the communal kitchen with a stormy look on his face and sneezed on its way; four times. Loudly.

Your face twisted in sympathy.

“Haven’t seen him,” you answered before Bucky could collect himself enough to ask.

Another wall-shaking sneeze was his response.

Now that one was just cruel; as far as you knew, supersoldiers couldn’t get sick. So it was just the sneezing itself, whatever it was caused by. Still, you guessed it must have been horrible to go through that after so many years of blissful germ-freedom. Honestly, if you sneezed like after seven decades, you’d lose your shit. Why did it feel like your lungs were about to leave your body through your nose at the mere thought of it? Scary shit, alright.

Bucky growled and stalked away. Not before he nodded in thanks.

He left the room with another sneeze.

“Bless you,” you muttered under your breath and eyed your tablet.

Tony was asleep as he had stayed awake until two a.m. working on the newest upgrade for the security of the Tower, so technically, you had time to enjoy your coffee in relative peace.

Naturally, peace was a short supply in the Tower, the home to the Avengers.

When Pepper had first offered you to simply move in since you spent the most of your time there, you had been reluctant. It had only been a week in and while you met some of the team members, finding out they were far less intimidating than they presented themselves to the press, it sounded… overwhelming to stay there 24/7. However, you had been quickly persuaded after you nearly passed out, because your sleep schedule was a mess, consisting of either passing out on the couch in the Tower or making it home only to fall asleep before your head hit the pillow, and being woken up by an urgent call from the Ironman himself two hours later.

Living in the Tower had its downsides and its upsides.

Downside was that it rarely got quiet and it was the perfect target for any supervillain as it had all of the Earth’s mightiest heroes in one place. Constant supervision from an artificial intelligence was as reassuring as concerning.

As for the upsides… you hadn’t expected to actually… befriend the Avengers. You certainly wouldn’t guess that once Natasha Romanoff warmed up to you, she was a great friend, a female element alongside Pepper that the Tower and the team sorely needed. The times you bonded over the aforementioned men-children were one of the best in your life.

Clint was a lot of fun, though you had soon adopted the habit of making a pot of coffee just for him, since you were usually the one to get up from bed before him and talking to him pre-coffee was the risk equivalent to touching Sam’s snacks.

Bruce… kept for himself a lot. But when he came out of his shell, either liberated by alcohol or when discussing science with Tony, he would radiate an aura anyone would be happy to bask in.

Sam was the ray of sunshine, gentle with a lot of fun stacked behind the chocolate eyes of his, but once he got into the same room and Bucky… oh boy.

The silently charming grumpy supersoldier added to the team in a way you wouldn’t see coming – perfectly. Except that he and Sam were always in each other’s hair. Always bickering; one that sometimes resulted in a war. Occasionally funny; other times utterly annoying. Rright now, you felt like it was something in between.

“Good morning,” sounded pleasantly from the door, where the last member of the peculiar household stood, seemingly hesitant.

Oh. Steve Rogers. That was right. Your biggest guilty pleasure. That man was a pure eye-candy, a body perfected by the serum only to protect the great man hiding in it. You didn’t have many opportunities to truly know him; but whenever you saw him, he had an air around him, greatness and kindness, yet somehow fogged by modesty.

At times, he appeared sheepish almost, but always polite. To you anyway. His friends were a different story; it saddened you occasionally, that he didn’t consider you a friend, not really giving you a chance, treating you differently. You suspected it was because you weren’t a fighter; while assisting Tony nearly 24/7, it was obvious that the billionaire tried his best to keep you away from the danger zone as much as possible.

The arms-long distance Steve Rogers kept you at was causing you a heart-ache at times, yet you had a feeling he didn’t have any particular dislike for you; only that he treated you differently. Always polite. Always a pleasant interaction.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his usual running outfit and tousled hair giving away he was coming back from his everyday morning routine of what was probably like thirty miles or something.

“Good morning, Steve. Had a nice run?”

Looking himself up, slightly guiltily, he scratched the back of his neck. It occurred to you that he was embarrassed at not being the most cleaned-up version of himself in front of you – a woman –, which you found adorable. His forties-man was showing.

“Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Did you… sleep well?” he queried, shifting by the door.

“Yes, actually… are you going to stand there all day?” you teased him lightly and the corners of his lips twitched as his gaze fell to the floor, his shoulder finally bouncing off the door-frame.

“I just didn’t want to disturb your moment of peace…”

Your chest felt warmer at such admission. What a sweet thought.

“That is very kind of you,” you praised him as he gestured to the coffee pot, checking with you if it was for everyone’s use. You nodded and chuckled at the tinniest flaw in his thoughtfulness. “Except you were beaten about a minute and half by a much grumpier and louder supersoldier.”

Steve groaned and leaned onto the counter. “Let me guess: Sam proceeded with another prank.”

You made a finger gun at him, grinning. “Exactly. I don’t know how he did it, but I don’t think I ever heard a person sneeze that loud. And that often. Poor Bucky.”

“Bucky brought this upon himself. He deserves it,” Steve grumbled, sipping at the coffee, his eyelids sliding shut blissfully. You were pretty sure that something resembling a moan resonated in his chest, which… didn’t do a thing to you. Didn’t bring thoughts that were not about caffeinated beverages, but something slightly dirtier. Nope. Nothing. Like… at all.

You stood up from you stool and gathered your stuff, ignoring the way your heart suddenly sped up.

“Well, I just hope we can all keep sane before this particular battle of their war is over,” you hummed, every word honest and hopeful. “These two might bring the Tower down. As if Tony wasn’t enough…”

“Very true. I’ll try and keep an eye on them… try,” he emphasized when your nose scrunched with a bit of doubt and you made a so-so motion with your free hand.

“Bold move. I hope you don’t get caught in the middle. Though I’m sure you could pull the blue-hair look unlike Bucky…”

Why did I just say that?

Smiling softly into his cup despite his eyes going wide in horror, he took a deep breath and looked you straight in the eye. The brightness of his irises had your breath caught in your chest.

“So am I. You… uhm, you look beautiful today, by the way,” he complimented you sweetly, his gaze swiftly glancing over your outfit and casual hairstyle. And for a good reason; having to assist Pepper on a meeting today, you had been chosen to wear a pink ladies suit and a white shirt. You had expected to look like a ridiculous copy of cotton candy – you had not anticipated to… actually look presentable. Feminine even. You.

Your cheeks matched the colours of your jacket at the praise; Steve’s shoulders straightened.

“I meant… not that you usually don’t. I was… uhm, I like the… the look on you. The one you have today,” he stumbled over his words and suddenly your whole body felt warm, pleasantly and yet embarrassingly.

“Thank… thank you. Have a nice day, Steve,” you nearly squeaked, threw a quick smile over your shoulder and rushed from the kitchen.

Oh yeah.

Steve… he would often utter a compliment, like a proper gentleman he was, treating women right. Except you never heard him say such thing to Natasha, who was far easier on the eyes. Or to Pepper. He would open the door for you, reached the top shelves when you needed it, always offering a helping hand, shy and gentle smiles, so… diverse to how he was when with the Avengers.

No, Steve Rogers didn’t treat you like his friend.

And god knew that the day you figured out if that was a good thing or a bad thing would be the day of solving the biggest enigma of the new millennium.

Unknown to you, Steve melted into the counter, putting down his cup of coffee and groaned at his utter inability to flirt.

“I swear, man, before you manage to give her a normal compliment without putting your foot in your mouth, someone else will snatch her,” Sam commented, having just sneaked into the kitchen to grab a three protein bars, cautiously scanning his surroundings.

Steve shot him a glare. “Thank you, Sam, you’re being very helpful. Has Bucky found you yet?”

“Shh! Don’t say his name! Do that two more times and he will app-“

“Wilson! You- ACHOO- fhakhin’ bird- ACHOOO-brain!” Bucky’s voice thundered through the whole floor and Steve smirked with satisfaction.

Sam’s body turned to stone, his eyes horrified and yet endlessly amused.

“Sorry, Cap, gotta go! But for God’s sake, just ask her out before we all go insane here…”

“Says the guy who cursed a supersoldier with sniffles!” Steve called after the disappearing figure exasperatedly, only to hear Sam’s laughter in the distance.

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“Silly circuit! What’s wrong with you? Do you have no decency? Just work…” you mumbled under your breath, eyes glued to the interface from a way too short distance, but you didn’t care for your health at this point. You just wanted to fix this.

“Is it talking back?” a hesitant and yet teasing voice asked, making you nearly jump out of your skin. Your head snapped up in surprise.

“Steve. Hey,” you welcomed him briefly, shocked at the vision of the supersoldier in the workshop. “What brings you to our dungeon?”

“Coffee break,” he wiggled two coffee cups in his hands pointedly and beckoned towards the clock that… read ten in the evening. Oh. You didn’t realize you had been down here for so long. “Something tells me you didn’t have one in a while. Am I… overstepping?”

Your cheeks flushed similarly to his as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reluctant to cross the distance between you.

Coffee honestly sounded heavenly now. And with delivery and perhaps some company? Not bad, not bad at all…

“Oh. No! No, that’s just… I’m surprised,” you admitted. “I mean, you’re always nice to me, of course, but… eh, sorry, my people skills are lacking at this time of day. Remind me how to tell-- gosh, I can’t even word, I mean speak-- you really do have a point about that coffee break.”

You chuckled, a palm over your forehead, fighting the urge to run it down your face in embarrassment at you babbling.

Steve, ever the gentleman, tried to hush his laughter at least partly, the sound coming out subtle and cute. He held out one of the cups for you and you instantly sipped at it reverently with your eyelids fluttering close, barely registering his soft: “Well, here you go.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re welcome. What are you working on?”

Surprised once more by his query, you took another vehement sip of coffee before placing the cup in safe distance and answering.

“Eh, just some glitch in Natasha’s Bites. I think she fried it, using the electromotive units too much during the last mission and now the interface is misbehaving and we would rather avoid her accidently electrocuting people, god forbid, herself.”

“…that we would,” Steve agreed, blinking at you, seemingly a bit dumbstruck, but a twinkle of mischief reflected in his irises. “Looks like the coffee is kicking in pretty quick. You have no problem with wording now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle self-depreciatingly. He wasn’t wrong.

What threw you off balance was that he was… having a conversation with you, a playful one, so atypical of him – at least as far as it was concerning you – and… it felt truly nice. It did things to your stomach, a pleasant fluttery sensation and you quickly downed the rest of your cup, wondering if it was the shot of caffeine. You were about 97% sure that it wasn’t the cause.

“Har, har, Captain Rogers. I’ll have you know that it’s only my human skills that gets progressively pathetic with my caffeine levels running low, not my ability to say big words. Anyway, what’s got into you tonight? There’s something different about you… not that I’m complaining!”

Once more, his reaction took you aback. He flashed you a quick smile before lowering his gaze, holding up both of his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Guilty as charged. Sam might have found me making coffee for two and decided to give me a pep talk. He told me, and I quote, to suck it up and just spit it out. … And then made me take a sip from Thor’s flask.”

Your heart started beating its way out of your chest, a mixture of panic and excitement at his admission.

“Sounds like he’s a good friend then. Is there something on your mind? That you need to… spit out?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, peeking at your from under his rich eyelashes, shy but determined gaze settling on you as he leant onto the counter behind him. “I feel like… things I want to say tend to come out wrong. I… I’d like to know you better. If that would be alright with you.”

You felt endlessly grateful that moment, that the words ‘my jaw went slack’ were only a figure of speech, because otherwise you would have looked very comical and very much stupid. Still, your lips parted, the flutter in your stomach growing in intensity.

“…oh,” you breathed out intelligently, only to realize he had actually asked a question. Kinda. And he was waiting for you to answer. “Uhm… yes. Yes, I’d love to do the same. I… I admit I thought that maybe you just weren’t interested in further interaction, because I’m not on the team-“

“No! That’s not it at all, I swear,” he rushed to reassure you, sending a tiny pleased smile at your approval. “It’s just… like I said. I’m always tripping over myself around you, putting my foot in my mouth and- and things I want to say sound less awkward in my head.”

Tripping over himself around me? That sounded… nope, that couldn’t be it. Right? Except your heart was now hammering against your ribcage in excitement at the possibility, turning more real every second he was looking at you and dammit, do not give into the silly hope that Steve Rogers might actually like like you.

“Steve, you’re literally the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I like to think about you as sweet, not awkward.” Now wow, really, sweet? That was way too much, dummy. Except he smiled shyly, his eyes lightening up at the compliment and your fingertips tingled at the sweet display of delight. He relaxed further, settling more comfortably against the counter. “Now, what do you want to know?”

“Anything,” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still up in invitation, an encouragement to share with him anything you were willing to.

“Well, you clearly already know how I take my coffee…”

Hint of darker pink coloured his cheeks, much to your glee.

“How did you end up working for Tony?”

“First of all, we all know I’m working for Pepper…”

He laughed at that, but listened patiently after, watching you work as you told him about your mum always being away on business trips and your father taking you to his workshop to keep your child’s mind occupied, teaching you stuff that was way too complicated for a little girl, but fascinating at the same time, showing you direction when you turned the age of making the big career decisions.

“Applying for this insane position wasn’t a spur of the moment. Pepper sent out e-mails to candidates she picked – I didn’t even know about the position opening, she simply used some of Tony’s searching tools and wrote people of whom she thought might handle the job. It was a little scary, to be honest. First, I thought there was no way for me to sign up for that; it would mean basically no personal life and I never wanted to be like my mum, never home…. But then it occurred to me how proud she would be of me, much like dad is and… I thought that it doesn’t have to be forever, you know. I can work here now and switch to something else when I decide to be a mum. Of course, I can see now, unlike when I was a kid and teenager, that she tried, but… I realized lots of that stuff only after she died and it’s just… I’m sorry she wasn’t there and that I didn’t try harder to appreciate her.”

You couldn’t fathom when you started pouring your heart to him or when your eyes started burning, but suddenly his hand was there, gently squeezing yours, his wide shoulders as if shielding you from the rest of the world simply by standing by your side and your eyes closed of their own account, your body strangely comfortable in Steve’s huge presence.

“I’m sure she knew,” he whispered warmly.

You smiled at him through the tears you had failed to keep at bay. “Sorry. Now whose mouth is loose. I bet you didn’t expect me oversharing when you said you wanted to know me better.”

“No, I didn’t,” he confirmed, observing your face with a mixture of laughter at your joke and compassion at your outburst. “I appreciate that you’re willing to share something so big with me. Thank you.”

“It’s that eyes of yours. They made me spill my guts.”

He didn’t point out that your focus was on the device on the table and not his eyes, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket instead. He gave it to you, never letting go of your other hand.

“Oh wow,” you only commented, no more words needed. Who the hell still carried-

Steve groaned silently. “Please don’t make any old man jokes.”

“I was about to compliment your chivalry.”

“Sure you were,” he grumbled, but his mouth was curled up in a grin, so you assumed he wasn’t too offended by your reaction.

Staring at the dazzling display of perfect teeth, you missed another person coming in; until their shocked voice snapped you from your trance.

“Whoa, what’s happening?” Bucky blurted out, bewildered at the scene in front of him.

You jumped away from Steve as if you got burned, your hand slipping from his. To be fair, so did he.

When had you got to standing in such intimate proximity anyway? Christ, something must have got into the air vents. You’d blame the Barnes-Wilson war for that… not that you complained. Having Steve standing so close, offering comfort without a single word of complaint after listening to you pouring your heart to him… you weren’t entirely joking when saying you were about to commend his chivalry.

Steve cleared his throat, his voice hoarse as if he had been the one crying. “Bucky? What can I do for you?”

Bucky frowned first at his best friend and then at you, his gaze flickering between the two of you before settling on you, a worried wrinkle appearing on his forehead.

“You alright, dollface? Do I need to punch Captain Foot-in-the-Mouth in his face?” he beckoned his chin towards Steve and you instantly shook your head, still too caught off guard to find your voice.

“Buck, please…”

“It’s a relevant question, Steve. And I’d do it if she asked.”

A surprised chuckle escaped your lips and you offered Bucky a grateful smile, only to grin up at Steve before wiping the rest of your tears.

“You seem to have very supportive friends, Steve,” you remarked.

“You have no idea. What did you need?”

“Nothing from you, punk,” Bucky smirked and shifted his attention fully to you. “FRIDAY told me you needed me in here? Something about an upgrade for my arm? Which I don’t need-”

“… which is why I’m not working on such thing,” you said, baffled. Should you be working on Bucky’s arm?

The former Winter Soldier had an utter confusion written all over his face.

“Huh? Then why-?”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

The workshop was suddenly swallowed by darkness, stunning him into silence.

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Part 2 ༻༺༻༺༻༺༻❁༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @cxptain​ @smilexcaptainx​

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Original request: Basically, the reader is Tony's assistant and she's in and around the tower 24/7. Steve really likes her and in the rare times that she's able to get away from her work, she really likes him. They're always flirting with each other in the slightly awkward old-man way Steve has but they never actually get together. Bucky and Sam decide to get creative and start a prank war. The only problem is that they cause a power-cut and because of Tony's high-tech stuff, Y/N, Steve and Bucky are trapped in a room together with a bit of food, a board game (monopoly?) and some candles. Maybe Y/N just finished training and was in her small, tight outfits and Steve couldn't keep his eyes off her. Could the whole thing be full of sexual innuendos but NO SMUT PLEASE! Anyway, Bucky does something (maybe he sticks his foot out and Y/N trips over it into Steve's arms? Idk, I'm not good at this...) and they end up kissing or whatever?

Sorry for not completely following the script requested, I focused more on what my keyboard dictated O:-) I did say I was terrible with given scenarios. Hopefully you’ll enjoy at least a bit anyway. I can’t see myself filling any other request in my life, but I did have fun with this ;)

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Thank you for reading!