#seems like a greedy asshole who has changed for the worse :)

[lesbianzouis]

I stopped being a Harry fan this year. I can’t stand what has become of him. The way he behaved during the pandemic, the tour dates he never bothered to update us on, the sheer arrogance of not thanking your fans after a Grammy win, the laughable way he never answers anything while getting labeled as ‘king’, the awful fashion he tries to pass as groundbreaking, the mega shady industry people he picks around him and even insert himself into their families, the way he can’t even bring himself to engage with fans even in cute promo videos, the way he never smiles anymore in fan pics ever since he made it big with fl, the way he obviously cheated with his movie director without giving a damn about the father of the children who was clearly in the dark. it makes me sad but honestly..whatever. I look at him now and honestly all I see is an empty LA dude who is not being legit and trying to make me give him my money. Gemma is annoying af and always was. Something about him has changed a lot and you can even see it in his live performances. I don’t feel the same alive fulfilled honest lovely energy he once had. He sold out

the slayification of you no longer being a harry fan <3 kjshfh no but seriously! you pretty much hit the nail on the head! he simply does not care about his fans and you're right, he’s an empty LA capitalist who sold out! & the fact that people have been picking up on this shit for years and yet harries continue to make excuses for him and berate people who don’t like him (for valid reasons!) is insane! every year more and more people continue to see him for what he really is, and that's very telling!

however, its also annoying that so many people DO call him out and DO have MANY valid reasons for not liking him, thinking he’s a bad person, saying he doesn’t care abt his fans (covid merch, covid concerts, fucking google camp, obvious cash grab shitty overpriced merch, surrounding himself with objectively shitty ppl [azoffs + olivia], & SO many more that i cant even think of off the top of my head) & yet the majority of harries would rather die than admit he’s ever done anything wrong! you can go into detail about any number of the things he’s done and his favs will just argue that whatever he’s done is 1) not actually even that bad 2) not his fault & its actually his management team that's to blame or 3) they just deflect and attack your fav instead even tho that has nothing to do with the argument 

its just really annoying that instead of explaining why i don’t like him, most of the time its just easier to go “oh i think he just has bad vibes he seems like an asshole i just dont like him” rather than going into detail because no one can argue with that! no one can argue if you’re just like “oh idk just because”!!! & i’d rather do that than start an insufferable argument with an insufferable person lmao 

[yanderemommabean]

Can I have a story of Malcolm trying to break up with Adrain?

If you don’t feel comfortable writing this then you don’t have too.

“Adrian…I don’t think we should be doing this anymore” Malcolm meekly spoke, tugging at his hoodie strings nervously as Adrian paused lifting his weights and turned to face him. “Huh? You nervous about being at the gym with me? Babe, it’s fine! Most people here are nice and encouraging about self care like this” he says while wiping his forehead. 

Malcolm cleared his throat, his hands beginning to shake as he placed them at his side, clenching and flexing. “No, this…this one sided relationship. Y-you didn’t even ask if I wanted to be with you like this! W-we shouldn’t be together”.

The gym was still going, people paying no mind, but Malcolm could’ve sworn the world went silent with the look Adrian gave him. Dangerous, possessive, and deadly. 

The larger man stalks over to him, taking his trembling hand and dragging him to the changing rooms. Malcolm could only scrabble along as pulling against his grip was useless, and near bone breaking. He felt fear paralyze his throat as Adrian shut the door angrily and pinned him against the wall. Both wrists were held by one hand, and his lower half was kept in place by Adrians thigh, trapping him easily. 

“You really think that you can leave me, huh?” he darkly snickered, trailing his nose up his neck to behind his ear, licking just below the lobe. Malcolm shudders, and tries to swallow down a terrified whine, not even bothering to try and escape the painful grip. “I don’t want this! Y-you just decided we were something! I-I didn’t even see you coming!”

Adrian hums in thought, kissing up the column of Malcolms neck possessively. “Didn’t even see me coming…and i'm an obvious threat. Of course I swept you up, someone else could hurt you. Make you do things worse than I do. I mean…Is what I do that bad?” he asked with grit teeth “I feed you, protect you, make you see how handsome and beautiful you are, keep you beside me for your own good! And you think that's just…terrible?” he asked with bitterness. 

Malcolm slammed his eyes shut as tears formed in the corner of his eyes. He’s right- but Malcolm didn’t ask for any of that shit! He doesn’t want this relationship because Adrian is unhinged! He’s dangerous and it’ll take just one bad day before he crosses a line he can’t come back from! 

“N-No! I-im sorry i just- “ he felt his grip tighten even more, causing his chest to rise and fall faster in a panic as he tried to think of a lie to calm him down. Pacifying him like that is a way Malcolm has learned to survive, being with Adrian quite literally 24/7. 

Adrian squeezed his throat firmly, making him keep eye contact. “Did someone tell you something? Fuck, was it that asshole roommate again?! “ he hissed with clenched teeth. “I told you not to listen to other people like him…But I know you’re just too gentle to do so” he sighs, pressing his forehead against Malcolms. His thumb gently rubbed across his pulse, as if gently memorizing it. 

Malcolm swallowed, and figured he should play into that delusion. It’s better than getting killed, or worse. He’s sure Adrian's parents would help keep him in a basement somewhere. 

“I-I’m sorry! I just…Feel like I'm not on par with you, you know? P-people point that out so often” he nervously huffs, seeing that light come back into Adrians eyes. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me? You won’t bother me with things like that, I’ve told you! “ his hand moves from his throat down to his clavicle, eyes wandering his body as if he didn’t mark it up earlier that morning. 

“My precious little lover, so easy to scare and hurt…That’s why you need me. I’ll kill anyone trying to take you away from me, anyone who ever hurts you. You need to be greedy with that! Clearly I need to take care of some people for you”. 

He seemed to be half joking, but Malcolm didn’t want to test that. Instead he just reaches up, playing the part of the ever so soft boyfriend, and wraps his arms around Adrian's neck. The blush on his cheeks was cute, he’ll admit, catching him off guard was charming sometimes. He whispers softly, trying to stop his terrified shaking as he speaks “A-are you mad at me? I didn’t mean to be annoying and dumb”

Adrian didn’t answer, simply roughly kissing him as he pressed him back against the wall. “How could I be mad when my baby is begging for me? I could never think you’re dumb and annoying…Now why don’t we kiss and make up, huh?”

Well, it’s not like he has much of a choice here. This makeout session is going to end in a sticky mess and a perverted Adrian wanting more than one round, making his legs like gelatin and his face as red as a cherry. 

He’ll have to find a way to leave the state soon, before Adrian finds a way to keep him tethered forever. 

(Hey! I hope you like this! Tell me what's up/comment please! -Mommabean )

[americasass91]

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18​ asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.  

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo​

[kingkatsuki]

TW: noncon, stalking, manipulation, kinda abuse of power.

Imagine getting out of the most tumultuous relationship of your life, and escaping your ex-boyfriend who was a complete and utter asshole. Moving out on your own to try and create some space between you both, except he won’t listen. Constantly stalking you and begging for you to take him back, the emotional manipulation is overwhelming so there’s nothing else you can do but call the police. They’re super understanding and explain that they deal with cases like yours on a daily basis, you end up getting an officer assigned to your case and that officer is Bakugou Katsuki.

He’s the prime example of what a good police officer should be, he listens to you, he understands and he’s there for you. He gives you his personal phone number so you can call him “anytime.” night or day. He checks in on you regularly and makes sure that your ex isn’t hounding you, and at first he isn’t.

And of course your boyfriend would stop within 24 hours because Bakugou has already gone to his address and threatened him, absolute fear stopping him from even attempting any kind of contact with you. But you don’t know that—

Bakugou Katsuki isn’t the wonderful, top police officer you once thought he was, but you’re none the wiser.

He starts doing shit to make you believe that your boyfriend is still after you. Random phone calls throughout the day and into the night, when you answer there’s no one there at all, the only sound is gentle breathing on the other side of the line. He’s put a tracker in your phone so he can find exactly where you are whenever he wants, making sure he knows where you’re going and what you’re doing. He already asked for all the passwords to your social media earlier to make sure that your boyfriend wouldn’t contact you again and to read through the old messages as “evidence” but instead he’s using it to get a better picture of your life. To find specific information in order to manipulate you. When he found your iCloud Drive he thought he’d hit the jackpot. All those lewd photographs you’d obviously taken for your ex-boyfriend now in his possession. Greedy eyes roaming over them as he fists himself stupid to the thought of your lips wrapped around him, or splitting your tight little pussy on his cock.

It gets worse when you start hearing knocks at your front door, opening it to see no one there. The noises happening at random intervals, usually when you’re in the shower or getting changed. Almost like he knows when you’re indecent. The occurrences make you scared and you call Officer Bakugou every single time, and he comes each time without fail. Telling you how important you and this case is to him, how he wants to protect you and keep you safe. How he won’t let anything happen to you ever again.

Bakugou spreads lies to you about your ex, mentioning bringing him in for questioning after finding him lurking outside your house (lie), finding your ex posting nasty malicious comments about you online (all him), threatening to release the dirty selfies you’d sent him (another lie) Bakugou would never, you were his but the way your doe like eyes widened at the suggestion made him throb. Any way to make it seem like your boyfriend was the perpetrator when Bakugou had already made him leave town weeks ago.

It all becomes too much when you receive a threatening text message, the words too personal, hitting too close to home as tears already begin streaming down your face. With nothing else to do you find yourself going to dial the one number you’ve learnt off by heart from the sheer volume of calls you’ve given him this past month. Sobbing on the phone about how you can’t do this anymore, that your ex won’t leave you alone and you’re scared.

The sound of your voice has his cock tightening against his slacks, tenting the fabric as he palms himself for relief, trying not to emit the groan that threatens to spill from the back of his throat. Swallowing thickly he replies, “I’m coming over right now.”

When he arrives he scoops you into his arms, holding you to his chest as you sob against him. Your tears dampening his work shirt as he holds you tightly, cooing in your ear about how you’re safe. Nothings going to happen to you while he’s around.

You don’t even want to think about spending the night alone at your house, not when your “crazy ex” could get you at any moment. He’s talking about how unprofessional it is for him to be here right now, but he just wants to look after you, to protect you. The words have you begging for him to stay, and this is exactly what he wanted. Having you need him, rely on him.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make you 100% dependent on him.

[redjaybathood]

So you know how jason and bruce actually had a really good father relationship til jason died? Jason ressurection doesn't happen until after all the important stuff so by the time a 15 year old jason comes back duke was the latest adoptee. So this jason stumbles his way to the manor after waking and has to meet with how much bruce has changed

"Who are you?" The teenager on the front porch asks.

He's white, maybe Duke's age or younger, looks like he has money (good suit, and now Duke has to live with a reality where he knows things like what makes a suit good: this one - a quality fabric; classic cut, so it could have been made ten years ago and still doesn't look out of place; even seems, and tasteful furniture - though the belt is missing), but had a rough time very recently. He's dirty all over, especially his hands, and he smells like sweat and decay.

Maybe one of Damian's classmates? In trouble, seeking help? He told Duke they're pretty much all assholes, most of them racist assholes. Tracks with this demanding tone: "Who are you?", like there's no believable explanation for Duke's presence here.

"Here's there I live," he says, gesturing at his jogging clothes and athletic water battle. He was just coming in from a run when he noticed a stranger sitting, propping his back to the door. "Who are you?"

"No, you're fucking not."

The teen raises to his feet. He's a midget, barely higher than Damian, so he only comes up to Duke's chest. But he in the way and doesn't seem to get the hint when Duke's dangling the keys.

"I live here!" He says. And then, looking at the keys, his brows furrows and he repeats, quieter. "I live here."

"Pretty sure it's just me, my dad, his dad and my siblings," Duke says.

He isn't trying to be ab asshole, but the guy now looks sucker-punched. "Siblings," he sees him mouth.

"Uh," Duke says. "Are you okay? Do you need me to call anyone? Ambulance?"

"No," the kid runs a hand over his face, smudging some of the dirt even worse, but wiping that lost expression. "Sorry, man, my mistake."

He moves around Duke and jogs down the stairs faster when Duke can raise a hand to stop him. It doesn't feel right, letting the kid go like this. He seems to have some cognitive issues, maybe memory problems. But he doesn't seem quite like an asshole Duke thought he was.

"Hey, do you want to come in? Wash your face, get some water and food in you?"

The kid doesn't stop for a few steps. But then, as though he needed some extra time to process, he does stop.

"I can lend you some fresh clothes," Duke offers. "And if you need medical help..."

"I don't," the kid turns to him. Tries for a smile. "But thanks, a change of clothes and a glass of water sounds like heaven."

Something in his own words seems to amuse him, because his smile turns more genuine.

Duke doesn't quite get the joke, but it doesn't matter. Kid's in his own world, and it's a dangerous place to be, in Gotham. He's mentally making a list of ways he can track down who he is or what happened to him.

Duke invites him in. The kid stops in the middle of the foyer, turning his head this and that way.

"Could be overwhelming," Duke offers. Probs. Maybe the guy doesn't come from money after all, with how almost greedy he is to take it all in. "The first week I lived here, it was like..."

"Godsamn museum. And you're afraid to even sit on a chair..."

"Well, not quite to this level," Duke smirks. "Come on, let's get you into a shower first, and then I will find you some clothes."

The kid heads for where the stairs are, even before Duke points it out. He files it away. But then he stops mid-step.

"You sure your folks wouldn't mind?"

"I'm alone here for the afternoon," Duke shrugs.

The kid winces.

"You can't just tell me those things! You don't even know my name, you know, I could be an ax murderer."

"Having an ax is kinda a prerequisite for that one," Duke points out. "And I wasn't sure how comfortable you were with sharing names."

Besides, if this kid has something wrong with him, and he attacks Duke, he's pretty sure it would be easy to handle.

"Jay," the kid says after a pause.

"Duke. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

This time Jay waits for him to lead the way. Duke leaves him in a guest room on a second floor, finds some old Tim's clothes, places them on the bed, and goes to make something to eat.

It's not only for Jay's benefit. Duke is pretty hungry too, after the run. He microwaves a bowl of soup for the guest (not knowing when he last ate, it's a good idea to start with liquids) and makes some sandwiches for himself.

The food heats up and then gets cold. It's figured that Jay would be either someone who took 3 minutes in the shower (because naked+in a house of a stranger doesn't feel very relaxing), or 30 (because he really, really misses the hot water). In this case, it's the latter.

Of course, it might be that he's already out and snooping around for some nefarious purpose, but Duke just doesn't see it. Still, he does due diligence. He brings up the security footage from the front door's camera on his tablet, makes a screenshot, and sends it to a group chat.

"just showed up while I was out running; no idea how he got past the gates; anyone you know?"

He figures, maybe it's someone like Timmy, who lives nearby, has it rough at home, had to come over once or twice in the past. Waynes are the people who would allow a kid in trouble a safe place to stay, even if they're not home.

It takes maybe a second for the message to be read. But after that, nothing. Okay, Duke thinks, it was kinda a long shot. Maybe he has to check local missing teenagers, just in case.

Before he has a chance to do that, Jay comes down. He finds kitthe chen without issue, takes a seat at the breakfast counter, and sprawls there, face down with forehead on his locked hands.

"Soup?" Duke gives him the bowl.

The guy blinks at him, before straightening up.

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry, I'm just. A bit out of it, I guess. Soup sounds great right now. And, hey, thank you for - doing it all for me. I mean, who would just invite a random guy to their house in this neighborhood?"

Duke shrugs.

"Didn't grow up here."

"Moved recently? Where from?"

"Tracey Towers, initially.

"Ouch," Jay winces. "Narrows. Every Arkham breakout, you're the ones who hit first."

"There's a bit less of them nowadays. But yeah, that wasn't fun. Then I got moved, a bit here, there."

"I know how it is. Well - not personally, didn't want to take a chance on Child Services, but. You hear stories."

Duke chuckles, mentally noting that no, Jay's probably not local here in Bristol.

"Well, it wasn't all that bad. Then I landed here. You?"

Jay gulps down some soup, maybe that hungry maybe doesn't want to be too hasty with answer. Then he puts the spoon down.

"Oh, I'm Park Row," he says. "Originally."

"And now?"

"Uh," Jay says. "I guess I temporarily don't have a place of permanent residence. Kind of trashed my last place. To be fair, it was really tiny and smelled like mold."

"Fair enough," Duke nods. "Look. Forgive me for asking, and you're free to tell me to piss off, but you don't really look like you're old enough to stay on your own. And I know Gotham's Child Services have a reputation a mile wide..."

Jay rolls his eyes.

"One time I decided to trust the system because someone convinced me to, I ended up in a boarding school where they brainwashed kids to commit robberies."

"Wow," Duke says. "Must have been quite a story."

"Yeah," Jay says but doesn't elaborate. He points behind his back, vaguely in direction of the common room, struggling to change the topic. "That your family's portrait there?"

"Yeah," Duke smiles. "It's nuts, I went from an only kid to like seventh. Was a bit of an adjustment, but they're good people. Not nice," he rolls his eyes, "Especially if it's the morning, and you have to be in school in an hour, and they're going to take class photos today, for the album, and your little brother put purple dye in your shampoo. And tried to blame it on your sister's girlfriend. How about your folks?"

Jay rubs a place just above his brow.

"Uh," he says.

Duke places his hands up.

"You don't have to talk about them if you don't want to."

"No, it's, I mean, I would have asked you questions too. I am asking your questions. So. My folks, yeah? They - I was an only child, too. I guess I had an older brother but, he left home after he turned eighteen. We weren't really close or anything. The only thing we had in common is one parent. And he didn't exactly make it easy to exist near each other, if you know what I mean."

Duke can imagine, yes.

“And then I left too, I guess,” Jay says, looking down and the counter.

“No looking back?”

Jay shrugs.

“I guess you just can't ever go home,” he says.

He drinks a glass of water.

“Spot me a twenty?” he asks. “I mean, you already helped a lot, and I will be out of your hair anyway, but. Bus fare.”

“No problem, man,” Duke says.

And it isn’t. Until the doors are closed behind Jay, and Duke goes back to the kitchen, where the last of the sandwiches was lying, and his phone.

He had it on mute while he was talking to Jay. Didn’t want anything to unsettle the rapport they had going. There was something jumpy about him; like he thought the Manor had ghosts.

Duke unlocks his phone casually.

96 missed messages, 23 calls.

[ryangosking]

Cuffs

Summary: Bucky is guarding / detaining you as a favour to Sharon, unfortunately she gets delayed and the two of you are forced to spend the night together.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Fingering, frottage, mentions of light bondage. Spoilers for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

AN: Set after TFATWS, reader works for Sharon. May be the start of a series. Masterlist

"These cuffs are too tight." You whine loudly as Bucky pushes you into the motel room.

"No they aren't." He grumbles. "In fact you could probably get out of them if you tried hard enough."

You look around the room, to call it shabby would be a compliment.

"Sit down." Bucky says shortly, turning on the TV.

You sigh and perch on one of the beds, wriggling your wrists in the cuffs.

Bucky pulls out his phone and paces between the twin beds as he talks. "It's me. Yeah, I got her. She was being a pain in the ass so I cuffed her. Don't worry, she's fine."

You look up at him. "Let me talk to her." You hiss.

He scowls and shakes his head, the crease between his brows appearing. It's adorable really.

You can hear Sharon ranting on the other end. Oops.

Eventually he sighs and holds his phone out. "She wants to talk to you."

You smile sweetly and take it, holding it awkwardly in your restrained hands.

"Hello?" You ask, apprehensively.

"Tell Barnes to go outside." Sharon snaps.

"Err, can you give us some privacy?" You ask Bucky.

He turns from his position at the window and rolls his eyes. "I'll just be outside."

"We're alone." You tell her, almost dropping the phone.

"I've been calling you." She says, briskly.

"I don't know where my phone is, Barnes kind of abducted me so-"

"You didn't stick to the fucking plan, did you?"

"Technically I didn't, BUT I made it even better."

"You got greedy."

"I did it for us, Sharon. More investment means-"

"Don't drag my name into this. Lucky for you I managed to reason with the people you stole from."

"I didn't steal....the plan was...." You trail off, knowing that it's pointless making excuses.

"The plan was perfect until you went rogue and pissed off all the wrong people!" Sharon yells.

"Sorry." You mutter.

"I'm coming to get you and bring you back to Madripoor, you need to lay low. I promised them you'd disappear for a while."

"Fine." You sigh, grudgingly.

"I can't get a plane until the early hours so just stay put. Barnes will be guarding you."

"GUARDING me?" You splutter.

"Yes, didn't you hear what I said? You pissed off some prominent....personalities."

"Right."

"Just sit tight and try not to annoy Barnes too much."

"Promise." You sigh.

Sharon snorts in response and hangs up.

You tap on the window to indicate that the the call is over, Bucky slips back in and takes his phone.

"Everything ok?" He asks.

"Not really." You mutter, holding up your cuffed hands. "Please can you take these off? I'm obviously not going anywhere."

He eyes you suspiciously before nodding and fishing the key out of his pocket.

As he leans over to unlock you, you discreetly inhale in his scent. You've had a crush on Bucky since the first time you met him, in Madripoor. Then he'd been with Sam and the Baron, you'd only met him briefly but oh, your pulse kicked up a gear whenever he looked your way with those soulful blue eyes. You had crossed paths a couple of times since (he and Sharon seemed to be constantly doing favours for one another) and he always had the same effect on you. Sharon even teased you about it. And it might be (probably was) your imagination but you'd noticed his cheeks turn pinker when he was forced to speak to you, his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren't looking.

"Thanks." You murmur, rubbing your wrists.

He gives you one of his soulful looks and you feel it in the pit of your tummy. "You're welcome." He says, softly.

You had actually been thrilled when he turned up at the bar, and even more thrilled when he said lowly in your ear, "You need to come with me." You had known that Sharon would send someone to get you, but it hadn't occured to you that someone would be Bucky. The struggle was mostly for show, you just enjoyed the feeling of Bucky's big, strong arms restraining you.

"You may as well get comfortable." He says, not looking up from his phone.

"I'm hungry." You say, plaintively.

"In case you haven't noticed, this isn't the kind of place that has room service."

"I saw a vending machine in reception."

Bucky sighs impatiently. "What do you want?"

"Chips and soda? Barbeque and Sprite?" You smile, hopefully.

"Fine. Don't move."

"I've got some change in my pocket." You offer, jutting your hip out at him.

His eyes flicker over you briefly. "I got it." He grumbles.

You need a moment alone to process your conversation with Sharon - you had heard her go off at people plenty of times but her vitriol had never been directed at you. It had been you and her against the world for so long, she felt like your family. She must've gotten a lot of shit from those investment assholes. Like they couldn't afford to lose a few thou, you're surprised that they even noticed.

Bucky returns with your soda and chips, chucking them unceremoniously on the bed, and some salted chips and a Coke for himself. You're fascinated, you've never seen him eat before.

"Thankyou." You say, ripping open the chips. "I'm starving."

He sits on the other bed, his legs stretched out and crossed as he looks impassively at the TV. You can't help stealing glances at him as you eat. He's wearing all black as usual, leather jacket, jeans and boots, his bionic arm concealed. Your cunt aches at the prospect of being alone with him for an entire night, you want to feel his arms around you again, his strong thighs between yours and his mouth, well, everywhere.

"Did Sharon tell you what I did?" You ask.

"I didn't ask for details. I just know that you pissed her off." He says, still looking at the TV.

"She's taking me back to Madripoor." You say quietly.

"I know. Makes sense." He shrugs.

"You and her go way back, right?"

"I've known her for a while."

"How come you and Sam are always doing her favours? You owe her or something? She doesn't like to talk about it." You probe.

"Neither do I." He says, turning his unflinching gaze on you.

You can't help but laugh. "You've got a great poker face, Barnes, I'll have to take you gambling in Madripoor, you'll make us rich."

"I'll pass." He says, crumpling his Coke can in his bionic hand.

You turn your attention to the TV - some garish game show - and feel his eyes still on you. The ache is getting worse, now you're positively throbbing with need. What the hell, you're going to Madripoor in the morning, who knows when you'll see him again? You may as well shoot your shot.

"Sharon thinks there's tension between us." You murmur casually, glancing at him.

"I won't argue with that."

"Sexual tension."

"Oh." He mutters. "You believe everything Sharon tells you?"

"She's mostly right about things."

Not entirely true. Sharon's exact words were, "If you and Barnes don't stop eye fucking each other I'm going to puke." Then she muttered something about 'steering clear of super soldiers'.

"Maybe we should do something about it, get it out of the way." You say, feeling yourself flush and keeping your eyes on the screen.

"That's not a good idea." He replies, but the tone of his voice sounds different, husky almost. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift on the bed.

"I've got a proposition for you." You say, finally, turning to him.

Bucky clears his throat. "If it's an investment opportunity I'm not interested."

"It's not financial, it's physical."

He sighs and looks at you.

"So, what if we kiss." You say, as lightly as you can manage.

"No." He says, flatly.

"Wait, I haven't finished. If we kiss and it's awful, then we forget about it and don't mention it ever again."

"I like the sound of that." He murmurs.

"If it's not awful well, we've got a motel room and a night to figure it out." You say softly, biting your lip.

The pause before he answers is far too long, and you're so embarrased you actually contemplate making a break for it.

"If I say yes will it shut you up?"

You laugh, relieved. "Yes, it will literally shut me up."

Bucky gets up off his bed slowly. "I'm going to regret this, I can tell."

"And I'm going into hiding, for who knows how long. It's the least you can do, Barnes." You say, your heart hammering with anticipation.

Bucky sits next to you, and your mouth starts to water just from his proximity.

"How do-"

You don't let him finish, leaning over and grabbing his jacket, pressing yourself against him and capturing his mouth with yours. It's even better than you imagined; he's slow and gentle but firm, bringing his hand up to grip the nape of your neck, a soft growl escaping from the back of his throat.

You pull away, flustered. Bucky's eyes are wide, staring at you.

You gulp. "Awful, right?"

"Just terrible." He murmurs, his hand tightening on the back of your neck.

"I guess that's it then." You shrug, looking at him through lowered lashes.

"That's it." He kisses you again, and this time it's all consuming. His lips are so soft but insistent and he licks into your mouth, making you groan into his.

You just want to climb onto him, anything to relieve the desperate ache. Bucky pulls you onto his lap with a grunt and you straddle him, your kisses growing deeper. He's so solid underneath you and you rub yourself against him, feeling the bulge grow in his jeans.

"Fuck, you're needy aren't you?" He chuckles lowly, kissing your neck.

You make a noise of agreement, slipping his jacket off his broad shoulders.

Bucky unbuttons your pants, and slides his hand into your panties.

"Is this ok?" He asks softly.

"It's all ok." You tell him and gasp as you feel his fingers opening you up, your hips jerking in response when he finds your clit. He tongues your mouth again as he plays with your pussy, slipping two fingers inside you.

You moan his name as you fuck his hand, rubbing him through his jeans and feeling the flicker of heat blooming at your core. Suddenly Bucky withdraws his hand and you stare at him as he gets up of the bed.

"Get undressed." He swallows, pulling his t-shirt off.

Quickly you strip down to your underwear and sit back on the bed, Bucky stands before you naked, beautiful, his arm gleaming in the lamplight. You can't hide your alarm when you notice he's got the cuffs in his hand again.

"What are those for?" You gulp, eyes wide.

"For when I fuck you." He says thickly. "If it's ok?"

You nod eagerly, pleasantly surprised. It was a first for you but you trusted him and well, now was a good a time as any.

Bucky gets on the bed and reaches for you, pulling you close and kissing you roughly, his hand grabbing a fistful of hair, his dog tags clinking against your chest.

"How come you still wear these?" You ask, running your fingers over the metal.

"Don't worry about it." He murmurs.

Then there was no more talking.

* * * * *

The next morning you wake up, nestled into Bucky's back and feeling sore. Your pussy and your wrists had taken a pummeling the previous night, he had fucked you every way he wanted to and you had lost count of your orgasms. Quite a going away present before you were shipped away to Madripoor. You were contemplating waking Bucky to go another round when his phone vibrates on the bedside cabinet. Already awake, he reaches for it.

"Morning Sharon." He intones. "Yeah, I guessed that. No, she was fine, I made sure that she behaved. Right, ok. See you then."

You groan. "Great."

He turns over. "She just landed."

"But we have time, right?"

Bucky laughs, and gives you a genuine smile. "Time for what?"

Sitting up, you nod towards the bathroom and then touch his bionic arm. "Is this thing waterproof?"

[me4ml]

Why don't you like Maribat? Why do you think it's a spite or salt ship?

This is presumably because of my Adrigaminette post or the whole Maribat being on the ship list thing.

Quick disclaimer: if you read/ship/write/like Maribat, cool! This is not an attack. This is me answering why I, personally, do not like it. It’s tagged anti, and salt, so it should be filtered. Please don’t harass me over it.

Another note before we start: a lot of what I’m about to write is based on what I’ve read, fic wise or meta, and I blocked off the Maribat tag and fandom a long time ago. It may have changed over there-I doubt it, and I have zero desire to go and look-but this is based on what I’ve seen and read about.

There are, principally, three reasons I can’t stand Maribat, why I think it’s a spite/salt ship.

1). I don’t like Damian Wayne.

2). I don’t like how Damian and the DCU are written in Maribat.

3). Maribat is a mutated salt fic.

If you want to see my reasons why, the rest is under the read more.

1). I don’t like Damian Wayne.

Damian’s not just my least favorite Robin, ranking behind any of the others who have born the name. He’s my least favorite Batfam sidekick overall.

Part of this is his introduction, where he’s a violent, murderous, arrogant, entitled, snotty little brat of a thug. Lest we forget, one of his first acts is to go out, kill a guy, cut off his head, stuff a grenade into the decapitated head’s mouth, and try to blow up Tim. This is his introduction! There are a number of other occasions, including how he treats Jon, his best friend, and the rest of his siblings.

Another part is that he believes that he deserves to be Robin simply because he’s Bruce’s son, and therefore has the blood right to be Robin, to become Batman, and damn anyone else, who are all pretenders. Doesn’t matter that those characters might have a right to become Robin, or the future Batman, he’s the bio son, he deserves it!

Additionally, Damian feels.....not unnecessary, but repetitive, in his actions/characterization. There are other characters who can perform pretty much the same way for whatever storyline is necessary, without including Damian.

Trained by an abusive family to be the best, as an assassin and warrior? Cassandra.

A killer who breaks the main rule of his mentor, which causes tension and strain in the family? Jason.

Incredibly intelligent and talented? Tim.

Damian isn’t unique in what he does, and while that can make him an interesting character, it can also make the focus on him unnecessary.

As well, so much of Damian’s actions and motivations feels like he gets away with stuff, in-universe, because he’s Bruce’s biological son, and so Bruce gives him too much slack, and out-universe, because the writers let him/the fans will defend him. He gets woobified, or leather pantsed. Which leads to:

2). I don’t like how Damian and the DCU are written for Maribat.

For all his (numerous) faults, when written well, Damian can be an interesting character. For example: How does he deal with being deeply insecure? By putting on a mask of arrogance and overconfidence.

Some more examples: How does Damian act like an actual child, when he’s never had a childhood? How can he be a hero, if he’s been trained to be a killer? Can he ever catch up to his siblings, or will he feel like they’re always better than him?

Damian’s sense of being Batman’s son, of being the heir to the Cowl, slams right up against the idea of the Batfam: that there are people who have just as much of a right to call Batman their father/father figure, people who are just as talented and skilled and capable as Damian himself is, if not more. Watching Damian develop, when he’s written right, is actually enjoyable; mainly because when it’s done right, it shows Damian actually progressing and growing, becoming more of a person, with friends and interests. Most times, seeing Damian with his pets can be adorable, same with when he hangs out with Jon.

Is he still a brat? Still sometimes a bit too much of a Demon, an al-Ghul? Yes, but that’s always going to be part of him, and as long as he’s shown to try and grow, or gets called out on that, it’s less of an issue (There’s a completely different rant to be written about how DC likes to chuck character development or backstory into the trash when it suits them for a new run. Damian gets hit with this, as does Tim, or they get handed the idiot/conflict ball, but not the space for it).

Maribat hurls this all out the window. Damian’s bad traits are all “fixed” offscreen-he’s developed, matured, gotten better, whatever you want to call it. It’s basically a writer’s hand wave to make Damian into the character who will be the lead of the story, perfectly suited for his main role of being Marinette’s boyfriend and utterly devoted to her every whim and will. He’s enchanted by her at first glimpse, and defends her against everyone who hates her, because no one can understand her like he can!

Uh, what? This is not Damian Wayne. Even at his best, he’s no broody boy, pulled from his “dark path” by the love of a gentle girl. He’s a Jerk with a Heart of Gold-emphasis on the Jerk. There’s a reason his nickname usually involves “Demon.” Is Damian trying to get better? Yes. But even then, he’s not the type to immediately fall in love. He takes a while to warm up to people, for them to earn his trust, and Marinette would not be like that?

Let’s say that Robin is in Paris for a case, he runs into Ladybug and Chat, and after they explains what’s going on, Robin gives them a stare over his mask, and goes “TT! What a worthless hero, I would have caught him already.” LB and Chat would probably want to deck him, and that’s before he keeps talking.

Same with if Damian transfers to the class, or they meet on a field trip to Gotham. Damian’s not gonna care about some random French teenagers on a tour, or if he was transferred he’s gonna be trying to figure out why his father sent him to Paris, and be focused on the mission, not making friends.

Of all of the Robins, the ones that would be the most likely to capture Marinette’s interest would be Dick or Tim, not Damian. He would remind her too much of Chloe, as Damian, and as Robin, he would be dismissive of Ladybug’s abilities, which would absolutely piss her, and Chat Noir, off.

In characters that aren’t Damian, no one seems to be written properly over in Maribatland. One huge example is that Marinette is so beloved, so pure, that she can make any character fall in love with her, and reform by her pure goodness, including a fic where the Joker-THE JOKER!-becomes her “Uncle J,” and pranks Lila on her behalf.

Uh-huh. Sure. Completely and totally something that one of the biggest, most sadistic twisted, notorious villains in pop culture would do. Maribat winds up worshipping the ground that Marinette walks on, cause she’s “Teh best evar!”

Which then leads to my third and final point:

3). The whole Maribat concept is a mutated salt fic.

Most of the themes you’ll find in Maribat? You will find in nearly every salt fic.

Maybe my biggest issue with the whole Maribat idea is that it doesn’t feel like a proper crossover, which, at their best, explore how characters from one universe and their rules would interact with characters from another universe, and the rules of that one. Putting ML and DC together is a rich opportunity to play with concepts in both worlds!

And yet, it’s mainly used to bash ML characters who the writers despise, predominantly Adrien, Alya, and Lila, with members of the class thrown in depending on feeling, and potentially even Marinette’s parents! The only “good” ML characters are the ones who are on Marinette’s side, usually Luka, Kagami, a Chloe who for some reason has been redeemed and is now Marinette’s best friend, and whatever members of the class the writer decides to throw in there.

You’ll notice it’s not called “MiracuBat”, or LadyBat and Bat Noir-it’s MariBat. It’s meant as a focus on Marinette, making her-the hero of the Miraculous Ladybug franchise, someone in-story in story who is incredibly smart and talented and the leader of her team, future Guardian-even more awesome.....by beating down everyone else around her.

Marinette is simultaneously treated as an beaten-up, beaten-down walked-on carpet, and the best person to ever exist ever, go who only needs a group of new, different, better people to recognize that and save her from the clutches of those greedy and ungrateful assholes! That doesn’t include the fics where she’s the unknown child of a superhero or supervillain, making her even more special.

It’s Chameleon salt, class salt, with pointy ears and a cape on.

Some specific examples.

Adrien: Adrien is a spineless doormat who prioritizes Lila over Marinette, or an entitled bastard sexual harasser, only fixated on Ladybug, or even both. Sometimes it’ll get worse, as Adrien will threaten or abandon Marinette if she steps off of his “high road,” and Chat will be a budding rapist, stalking or capturing Marinette after he’s learned she’s Ladybug, while ignoring her prior to that. He will, of course, have his ring stripped and handed off to Damian, who is the “true” soul of Destruction and so therefore a “perfect match” to Marinette’s Creation soul. Occasionally it will be Jason, or Tim, or Dick, but the key thing is that it’s not Adrien!

While Damian’s issues are magically fixed, Adrien gets no such courtesy. Adrien has been abused, just like Damian, and while Damian’s abuse is more extensive and extreme, abuse is abuse. If anything, if Damian met Adrien, he would probably see another abused kid, and want to be his friend/have his “adopt stray person!” Instincts go off. I can much more imagine Damian dragging a bewildered Adrien into the Batcave and yelling “Father I’ve found another one for you to adopt!” than I can Damian immediately hating Adrien, or Chat, simply for breathing.

We never see Clark taking Adrien under his wing, or Bruce, or any of the other Batfam; nor any of the other Justice Leaguers. We never see Selina try to fight Bruce over the kid, because he’s cat-themed, and Selina can train him, this one’s hers Bat, get off!

Adrien’s never treated as a kid, or given actual development. A major complaint among salters is that Adrien is treated as perfect and never develops, and in fic, rather than developing him, Adrien either remains static, with his flaws narratively exploded, or is developed negatively. He’s there to be beaten up on and punished by the writers, if not actually physically beaten up by characters in the fic.

Alya: the not-so-good friend, the cheap excuse for a journalist, the awful person who abandons Marinette for Lila and her “connections.” Never mind that Alya was Marinette’s friend from the beginning, or that Marinette’s chosen her multiple times for a Miraculous. One instance of questioning Marinette about Lila, and Alya’s a backstabbing bitch.

Maribat treats Alya as neglectful, bossy, domineering and submissive at the same time to Marinette and Lila respectively, and as a journalist, the worst of the worst. She’s played as a two-bit paparazzo, and once again, the DCU is used to punish her. We don’t see Alya get mentored by Lois or Clark-indeed, if they notice her, it’s with disdain or disappointment. Often, they’re crushing her under their heel, calling her not only a bad journalist, but a bad friend/person. This forgetting, of course, that Alya runs her blog as a hobby so far, she’s only a teenager, and that she’s had Marinette’s back against Chloe and Lila.

The Class: the dupes or allies as needed. Class salt levels depend on what the writer needs. If they’re pro-class, they’re all on Marinette’s side, aside from Alya Adrien and Lila. Chloe, for some ungodly reason, is “redeemed” nigh instantaneously, and often will become Marinette’s best friend, if that isn’t Kagami already. Kagami will drop Adrien like a wet tissue, never trying to reconcile him with the clas, or encourage him to stand up for himself, or if she does, Adrien, of course, will not listen.

If the writer is anti-class, whoo boy. Openly mentally, emotionally, physically abusive to Marinette, the worst gang of people you would ever have the displeasure of meeting, they all need to be in Arkham.

We never see any of the class make friends with the Batfam, the Titans, Young Justice-unless they’re on Marinette’s side, of course. There’s no Alix stopping Selina at the Louvre, for instance, or Max hanging out with Babs. It’s all based on how Marinette is treated as to whether or not the class is portrayed as being worse than the worst of the Rogues Gallery.

Wrapping it all up, Maribat has made me dislike the entire concept of a DC/ML crossover.

Even if someone had written an non-salt, in-character crossover, I don’t know if I would read it, simply because the well has been that poisoned.

[szivtalan]

otp questions for endhawks.........will u kick me if i'm greedy and say ALL OF THE NUMBERS

I WILL NOT but this might take a while tho!!!!

1. Who is the most affectionate?

hawks is more physically affectionate - he'll link their arms together, cuddle to enji's side in public, climb in his lap when they're home, hold his hand, initiate kisses more. but it's enji that people notice sending fond looks for his boyfriend so many times it becomes embarrassing - tabloids will have a whole article on endeavor's "heart eyes" ("my eyes are not hearts" enji frowns at the magazine in hawks' hands, who just shrugs and grins "seems like they are for me") so i would say, deep down the big man's a softie too

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

enji/hawks. unless enji has a nightmare, because in that case, hawks is more than happy to be his lil jetpack.

3. Most common argument?

ah they fight about the most useless things but one of my favorites that must come up often is enji thinking that hawks deserves better than him, and hawks insisting that he's everything he ever wanted.

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

kicking villain ass and family dinners. hawks likes to eat, and enji likes to eat with his loved ones all in one place. he wonders why hawks gets along so well with his children, and then he realizes - he forgot (again) how insanely young hawks is, and that he's merely a few years older than his youngest son, too. ngl natsuo glares daggers at his old man for having a boyfriend half his age ahahaha

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

given that enji could swing hawks around like a yo-yo, i think it's him ADJGSGH

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

hawks likes everything about enji. he's really into his body, but also his dry sarcasm, his occasional goofy jokes, and most of all, his heart. hawks will watch enji kneel down to a couple of children at a battlefield, his own face and hands dripping with blood, grunt out "are you alright, kiddos? come here, i'll get you somewhere safe" and see him do exactly that, scoop the kids up in his arms and carry them on shaking legs that could barely keep himself up, and then he will see him let his eldest burn the world, his second eldest scream at his face, his youngest treat him like dirt and know that he still cares so deeply for them, know that he loves them and wants the best for them and if the best is torment their father until he dies or worse, he'll let them without so much as a complaint.

enji, on the other hand, loves how easily hawks can lift the mood. he's learned to see through facades, and he'll call him out if he senses that it's hurting hawks to put on a mask, but hawks joking around and mouthing off makes our atlas feel like the weight of the world is a little lighter that day. he loves him for how driven he is, how graceful and hard-working and focused he seems in a fight, and thinks about how those traits were most important to him in the past but now he can see hawks use them to create a world where they can rest, and he realizes... that's not so bad an idea after all.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

enji speeds up the process of divorcing his wife lol. also he becomes more nervous around hawks, because shit, he likes him too, but he shouldn't be liked, why does hawks even like him? when hawks learns that enji likes him too, he gets shamelessly flirty. he doesn't make a move, of course - enji is still a married man, but he'll laugh at his nervousness, play with his own hair for enji's viewing pleasure and send suggestive winks his way like the damn tease he is.

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

enji calling hawks birdie is pretty obvious. hawks alternates every petname imaginable for enji when he learns that he's never been called one (he figures it out when he jokingly calls him darling once and enji blushes to the roots of his hair), his favorite is "sweetheart" and "baby". enji also calls hawks his angel, but only when he's being very soft for him

9. Who worries the most?

i mean..... both? enji tends to worry more for hawks' safety and hawks worries more for the crushing guilt enji lives with.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

hawks - claims he does, but the truth is, he says a different thing each time and enji's happy to try new things as long as hawks will beam at him proudly after ordering

11. Who tops?

depends. they both do. enji topped more at the beginning because hawks was really into it and he was kinda insecure about asking for anything else, but hawks once offered and found out that he has a delicious bottom bitch on his hands.

12. Who initiates kisses?

hawks. height difference doesn't really matter when you have wings to fly up to your boyfriend's face and kiss him stupid

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

enji does. he wants to feel that hawks is by his side all the time, safe and sound.

14. Who kisses the hardest?

again, enji. his kisses get desperate, his hands rough. his temperature goes up despite his will and he just wants hawks to melt against him

15. Who wakes up first?

enji does! he's used to working out in the early morning before going to work

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

hawks does!! deep down he's still a rebellious lazy teen and whenever he has a day off, he likes to sleep until 12. he swears he considers breaking up with enji the first time the man wakes him up at 6 to ask if he wants to come work out with him

17. Who says I love you first?

surprisingly, enji does. hawks is way too protective of his own feelings to let them flow out so soon, but enji is desperate, he wants hawks by his side for ever, and the first time he says it is the first time he realizes it's true. they're out eating dinner one day, and enji watches hawks chew around the food in his mouth, downing chicken like his life depended on it, and he watches the last rays of sunlight hit his golden hair, his golden eye, paint his wings blood red, and he knows he hasn't seen anything more perfect than that sight. he tells him he loves him, and hawks laughs so much he almost chokes on food. "pretty fucked up to tell me that while i'm deepthroating yakitori" he tells him, giggling

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

hawks!!! it usually says cheesy things like "good luck at work, endeavor-san!" or "don't forget to eat ur vegetables!" when there are zero vegetables in the lunches hawks packs for him

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

i mean hawks doesn't have much connection to his family, or has many friends, but enji is kind of pressed to tell his family all about his relationship since, you know. the news would reach them sooner or later anyway

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

mirko is THRILLED that hawks is dating endeavor. the todoroki family, i mean.... shoto is confused, natsuo is mad, fuyumi and rei are both supportive and say they both want the best for enji. but mostly they just all think that he's really. Really young lol

21. Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

hawks!!! he likes to dance around the kitchen while enji is cooking or doing the dishes, and sometimes manages to seduce enji into his arms too.

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

hawks is a better cook, but he never tells enji about that. he just lets him suffer and teach himself how to cook because it's so much fun

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

hawks, but he says nothing he would ever say can beat enji calling him his angel. that's the cheesiest it can get, and it's also only because of his wings, like shut up enji omg that's so embarrassing

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

hawks gets bored on important meetings. then he looks over to enji in a suit and gets horny. one of his favorite hobbies is watching enji squirm and struggle to keep it together after he's stroked his thigh under the table and whispered filth in his ear

25. Who needs more assurance?

enji does. he really, honestly thinks he doesn't deserve the love hawks has for him.

26. What would be their theme song?

my dude every song on ur playlist could be but this one in particular takes the cake for real

27. Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

in an au where enji's kids are still kids instead of grown adults, hawks would definitely read to them (sometimes legit tales, sometimes just colored-up and censored versions of their dad's missions) and cuddle them to sleep while he hums to them softly. in a non-au, enji catches him with shoto sleeping all wrapped up in his arms and wings, right after comforting him when he had a nightmare, trying to keep awake but slowly dozing off holding enji's youngest, most precious son, and enji kind of falls in love a lot more.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

text, call, videochat. hawks makes a show of wearing some of enji's clothes, but really, you can't keep these assholes away from each other.

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

enji will never think he deserves to have hawks by his side

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

hawks will never grow tired of showing enji how much he deserves him.

[witch-apologist]

all those "let fiction be dark, let characters be super flawed, let romances be messy, you stupid puritans, screw morals" posts are always made by incest and pedophilia likers

This is exactly the kind of shit I'm talking about when I say a lot of people really need to relearn CONTEXT. Sure yes posts like that CAN be and sometimes ARE made by pro-shippers and enjoyers of pretty rank material. But much like many posts that seem innocuously feminist at first but change meaning the moment you know the op is a terf the same applies to these takes.

Let me give you an example:

"The banks are evil and run by greedy assholes who hoard wealth for themselves and make things worse for the common wealth."

Objectively this is a correct statement and coming from most leftists is simply an accurate critique of the capitalist system we live under.

Coming from a neo-nazi however that statement becomes an antisemetic conspiracy theory because the unspoken implication is that the "greedy assholes" are /jewish people/

"Let characters have flaws, let romance be messy, stop the puritan bullshit"

Coming from someone who understands nuance and context simply means "Stop demonizing shows every time a character youre supposed to like messes up and stop being racist and especially stop pushing Christian fundamentalist ideas of morality on everyone "

But when said by a pro-shipper or lolicon enthusiast etc means "there should be no consequences for jacking off to pedophilia"

CONTEXT. MATTERS.

If I happen to have reblogged a post like that from someone who HAS that nasty context i will delete it but im not gonna stop saying objectively correct things just because monsters who say the same thing mean something totally different.

[somepinkthing]

I know dimitri went through the most drastic change during the timeskip, but I feel like claude went through a pretty significant one too. I’m told the japanese voice acting makes it more stark and I agree, but also just in general. And I think, in part, that’s got a lot to do with the alliance and how leading it has affected him

Claude pre-timeskip has a lot of the same ideas he’ll have five years later, but absolutely no plan to make them happen. He knows he wants open borders, an end to xenophobia, to tackle ignorance with facts, and to allow people everywhere more social freedoms. He's enamored with the idea of choice, with the vision of people living together as a community without worrying about their birth status, with busting open fodlan's insular bubble and giving people options in life.... but he’s not lying to you when he says he doesn't really know where to begin. His initial plan was to find the magic goddess sword in the hopes that it’d uh??? Teenage claude is a mass of ideals with no solid plan to get what he wants. He sees what’s wrong with the current system and arguably considers the most perspectives, but unlike his peers he has no idea what he should do about it. Mostly, he spends the school year rummaging for information and asking a million questions

The claude we meet five years later? He’s much more confident in his goals and considerate of the logistics of achieving them. Claude’s still focused on challenging social norms and still determined to tackle the ignorance that's preventing that change. By in large, he even managed to stay that same idealist who believed people just need to be provided a chance. However, he also now understands the importance of tempering his idealism so that freedom doesn’t become a free-for-all. Pre-timeskip claude talked about what he wanted to see change in fodlan, but not really what would be taking its place. Five years of leading the alliance has taught him that just getting rid of what’s wrong isn’t gonna cut it.

Because honestly? What is the leicester alliance if not a melting pot of good ideas and meh execution? Freedom from oppressive autocracy, voting on decisions, a community of different territories coming together and supporting one another — that's what the alliance wanted to be when it broke away from faerghus. The result? A bunch of nobles watching out for themselves and endlessly squabbling without a shared goal in sight. Yes, the strict social class systems we see in the kingdom and the empire seem much more lax in the alliance. Yes, opportunities are a bit more abundant. Yes, the church has very little political sway in the alliance. So there are things they got right. But greed mixed with the toxic remains of traditionalism that weren't properly chased out plagues the alliance and the benefits of breaking out are probably not felt by all equally. The extra freedom afforded to the alliance nobles only made this issue worse. After five years of barely keeping the alliance territories from descending into all out war over something as stupid as greed, claude now understands this. It's why he needs byleth and lorenz. He admired them before but now he needs them.

TL;DR claude spent five years wrestling civil war away from the hands of various greedy, rich nobles and came out the other side knowing that these assholes were gonna need some ground rules and a keeper if he didn't want to risk his ideals turning this country into a buffet for the rich and powerful. Promoting social freedoms and ending isolationism are very big and very good ideas... if they are throughly executed

[starlit-dreaming]

[3] in the back of my mind

Fandom: WMMAP Rating: G Ship: Eventual Lucathy, Felily, Calena, and more Note: the Twin Sibling AU that i tried so hard not to write, but i DID, so naturally i have to call myself out for writing it. will be cross-posted on ao3 and wattpad under the same title

Arc 1: Beginning of the End 0 | 1 | 2 | [3] | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Arc 2: Of Princes and Villainesses 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary:

He was pretty sure he transmigrated into a fanfic of [The Lovely Princess] — after all, he would’ve remembered if Princess Athanasia had a younger twin who died.

// A retelling of WMMAP with a vital difference — Athanasia has a younger twin brother.

——————————

3. spending time with family :)

——————————

How the hell did he survive until now?

His five-year streak of being lazy and acting shy had finally been diminished all in a single afternoon, thanks to Athy encountering the man who sired them and getting a near panic attack. Of course, it wasn’t her fault that she freaked out over meeting her future killer — hell, he wasn’t all too thrilled about it either, so imagine how much worse it must be for her!

So no, he doesn’t blame her.

Does he blame himself for immediately darting off to her side at the heart-gripping fear that crawled just to let him know that something was happening to his sister? No, because he would feel like an asshole and would probably stew over it in guilt for the next few days. Does he blame her for feeling as if she were on the guillotine for encountering her would-be future murderer? No, because Claude would literally be what ends her second life if the novel were to be followed.

What he does blame himself for, however, is the fact that he ran into the situation as if his impulse control decided to pull some kind of vanishing act at the last minute. His emotions completely controlled his movements — then again, it was a fight or flight impulse caused by fear, and he chose to fight.

Sure, he knew that there were plenty of scary things that would happen for a member of the royal family, but still.

In the memories he still had of his previous life, he didn’t seem to have too much fear when it came down to confrontations. Rather, he was blunt (as always), straightforward (like usual), and was pretty decent at feigning ignorance whenever necessary (which he’ll just have to find out if that fact remained to be true). He was pretty sure that the same applied to his current life as well despite some minor changes — perhaps it’s because he’s now technically a 26-year-old (mentally) and in the body of a five-year-old?

That certainly explained the random times when he would play the cute card and ask the maids for chocolates like Athy regularly did. Not to mention his short attention span… although he rightly assumed that it was just the ADHD and him getting spoiled by the luxuries that he was becoming greedy for.

And yet here they were. Being stared at — was it just his imagination, or was the Emperor staring at his sister?

Well, he did throw his napping buddy (officially named Garfield Mittens, usually referred to as Mr Mittens out loud) at the two men, so he’s not too surprised if they don’t want anything to do with him. Truthfully, Athanase should be feeling pretty blessed right now just because he hasn’t gained much attention from that alone, even after getting immediately stared at by Claude with what he deemed to be a murderous glare.

But instead, the Emperor seemed to click his tongue in irritation, made a rude comment about how he was as brazen as their “wench of a mother”, and he ordered the knight to take him along as he picked up his stuffed animal!

Rude.

Still, it sucks that he’s never going to get Garfield back. That huge plush was going to get used as a hostage, probably, and his kid brain can only hyperfocus for so long. He just knows that he’ll get distracted, forget about it, and then remember by bedtime. What a shame, too — it was his favourite stuffed animal made of fancy soft material, and he’s not sure if he had any other that was practically as big as him.

Suffice to say, he was surprised to have survived for this long.

‘Maybe if we’re lucky, this is all just a bad dream, and I’ll wake up in the comfort of my bed,’ Athanase briefly thought as he held Athy’s hand. He could hear her stream of panicked thoughts, distracting him from the terror of the situation.

Instead, he found himself glancing up to stare at Claude, only to jolt and immediately look away every minute or so whenever they happened to make eye contact. It was clear from the amused look on the knight’s face that Athanase was being obvious with his interest towards Claude.

‘I can’t help it, sir, you look too goddamn young to be a single dad,’ he absent-mindedly thought. ‘Actually, wait, how come we’re your only biological kids when you were floozying around with other ladies before our mom? Seriously! Athy and I were definitely not planned for, so what about the other women?’

Glancing over to Athy, he could tell that she was still frozen from fear.

He elected to ignore that for now, even when her fear was beginning to feel a bit contagious.

Athanase’s eyes then trailed down to the table, staring down at the cakes. There were only two sets of utensils in front of him and Athy, with two cups of tea and a variety of sweets. He stared at it, immediately looking at the brightly coloured cakes.

Eventually, he looked back up at Claude, “Is this for Athy and Athan?” he asked, blinking his eyes wide and curious. “Is it pretty mister and red mister saying sorry for trying to take Athy away?”

His eyes shifted from Claude, who stared at him disinterestedly, to Felix, who jolted at the question as if he were a deer in headlights.

Admittedly, he felt vicious amusement at that.

“Is it okay for Athan to eat?” At that, he could feel his sister’s thoughts jolt over to him in panicked worry.

“Go ahead,” Claude simply stated, overly uncaring as he made some kind of comment about them that he, frankly, couldn’t be too bothered to care about.

He had cake to eat.

“Thank you for the cake, mister!” With wide eyes and a happy smile, Athanase picked up his fork and cheerfully took a bite of a strawberry shortcake. He hummed, cheerful and content with the taste and texture of the cake.

‘Athan, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!’ Athy blinked at him with wide eyes.

“It’s really yummy, Athy!” he cheerfully chirped, turning to look at the anxiety-ridden girl. ‘My nap was interrupted,’ he thought, proceeding to eat his cake without an ounce of regret. ‘So, I’m going to eat lots of sweets until I feel like I’m going to burst from a sugar high. I’m sure Lily won’t scold me for over-indulging, since it’s our first hang out session with the deadbeat dad.’

‘He could literally have us killed!’

Upon hearing that statement, he paused to look back at Athanasia with a considering look. Then, he glanced over to Claude, tilting his head for a moment as Claude raised an unamused brow, before looking back at his sister.

‘I’ll take my chances for the sake of cake.’

‘Athan.’

‘Athy. Look, you have your chocolates. I have my cakes that I wholeheartedly adore.’

‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it.’

‘I just think you’re just over thinking things. Maybe it’s because you two share similarities appearance-wise that I’m not too concerned? When you’re bored and blanking out, you definitely look really similar to him. Sure, he’s a psycho murderer, but Jennette isn’t in the picture yet, too. Until she shows up, we don’t have to worry about him killing us, y’know? Besides, look at him!’

‘I am looking at him, Athan, and he’s contemplating whether or not to murder us!’ Athy had cried. ‘Okay, fine, you look a lot like him even with your hair growing out, straight blonde hair and all! — but he looks infinitely more horrifying and murderous and that’s just outright unsettling! He’s staring at us, trying to decide whether or not we’re worth it to keep alive!’

He stabbed his fork into a strawberry on his cake and proceeded to straight up feed Athanasia.

‘What the hell, man?!’

“Yummy, right?” he asked, as he then flatly thought, ‘Dude, chew that and calm the fuck down.’

“Mhmm!” she nodded, smiling back despite screeching colourful curses at him through their telepathy.

He beamed at her response. ‘Claude doesn’t even seem remotely interested in us. In fact, he keeps making comments about our mom, and he keeps staring at you more than me. Maybe he’s just trying to see if we turned out to be just as unpleasant as her?’

‘That doesn’t make sense. Diana was said to be beautiful and…’ Athy trailed off mid-thought.

‘In both of our recollections of the novel, it only talks about her appearance. There’s nothing in it that indicates that she’s got a kind or shit personality. We’ll probably need to ask Lily if she knows any stories about her to confirm that, but the dude clearly has some beef with her.’

“I was beginning to think that you couldn’t speak,” Claude had commented, staring at Athanasia. At that, Athy hiccuped from the sudden attention.

‘Does… does that mean he’s going to kill us if we don’t entertain him?!’ Athy had screeched, making Athan internally sigh in exasperation. “Athy can talk,” she smiled, aiming her fake smile at the man sitting across from them.

“Why did you stay silent?”

Athy had no response for that, and as Athan finished chewing on another piece of his cake, he looked at her.

‘What do I say to that?!’ Athy had asked, turning to look at Athan. ‘Help me!’

He tilted his head in consideration, ‘You said it yourself, though. I get most of my looks from him — maybe just… talk about that? Say that I look a lot like him?’

“Mister looks like Athan!” Athy had blurted out immediately after he finished that thought. ‘Oh my god, oh my god, why did I just blurt that out? We literally considered that he has issues with our mom similar to on the level with Jennette’s mother! What if he doesn’t like the reminder that he’s our dad? What if—’

“But mister looks more like Athy,” Athan had blinked, seeming confused. “He can’t look like Athan. Athan is Athan and Athy is Athy.”

‘What kind of ridiculous sentence is that?’ Athy stared at her brother, dumbfounded.

‘It was enough to get you to stop freaking out, didn’t it?’ Athan raised a brow.

“Maybe mister’s our father?” The moment that slipped out, Athanasia froze. She began to cycle through her anxiety once more, pale and terrified of being punished for saying it. ‘Of all the things I could’ve said!’ she internally cried. ‘I’ve done it now — I’ve dug my own grave, Athan!’

They both looked back at Claude who stared at them, seeming thoughtful.

‘W-what…? Didn’t I just have an epic fail?’ Athanasia blinked. ‘Come to think of it… Claude liked, Jennette, right?’

“Papa?” Athan tilted his head, looking at Claude who remained silent. ‘He doesn’t seem angry. And Felix, his guard, seems to be overjoyed that we’re calling Claude our dad.’

‘Then why won’t he respond?’

‘Should we try again?’

‘Alright…’

“Papa!” they both cheerfully smiled.

        Suffice to say, they survived their first of many tea parties with Claude.

[selfships-in-spanish]

The Queen of Demons 3/?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Mature (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D But right now just in case)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 7103

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: Third chapter LET'S GOOOOOO– We are getting more into the plot of the story, Erwin being Erwin and Flora being the absolute best girl in the whole universe.

Gotta love Flora.

CHAPTER 3: DANCING WITH THE DEVIL

Both the Crown Prince and the Chief ordered their remaining men to step outside too, asking for absolute privacy. Everyone but Moblit left.

Friederich let out a loud sigh, taking a long gulp from his goblet to drown the image of their beloved little sister pleading them to not leave her alone. They sadly had to, it was safer for her this way. The Chief refilled it, the Prince thanking him with a nod.

“Now you understand what we meant, right?” Hans laced his fingers together, resting his arms on his knees.

“Father has had his claws on her for far too long.” Friederich stared at the wine in his goblet, frowning displeased. “Too long.”

He forgot when it was the last time his little sister genuinely smiled.

“I do, your Highnesses. And I swear to you both, and to the Goddesses, that she will be safe here.”

“This wouldn’t have been possible without your help, Erwin. You really don’t know how grateful we are to you, and for accepting our only request.” Hans looked directly at the Chief’s eyes.

“This is the safest place for her to be while the other stages of the plan happen.” Erwin took a sip of his goblet, eyeing both brothers as he awaited for Moblit to finish translating. “Your father won’t dare urge us Eldians to fulfill our end of the deal until the marriage happens. For now he waits, and that is when we must act. Sadly time is of the essence, and we cannot waste any of it.”

“Truly a race against time, huh?” Friederich crossed his arms, not wanting to let any negative thoughts cloud his mind and sully his purpose.

“Yes, a race we must win.” Both brothers understood now why the Eldian Chief was both feared by his enemies and deeply respected by his allies. His determination was contagious, and even if they had all the odds against them, they felt that they could truly win. This is how his warriors must feel on the battlefield, ready to give their lives following his orders as they fought side by side.

“Our sister–” Friederich insisted, his fingers twitching.

“My warriors will protect her. The chances of having an entire army mobilised here are very slim, especially considering their General is here, and that the troops are loyal to their General, before their King.” Erwin motioned with his hand towards Friederich. “And I suppose if it was inevitable, I would have a word of warning to prepare a scheme to avoid our armies confronting each other, wouldn’t I?”

“Still, it’s a big gamble. Even for you.” Hans replied, taking a sip from his goblet. “We should consider all chances.”

“He knows his chances.” Friederich leaned back on his chair. “Don’t you?”

“I’ve always been a man of big gambles.” The Chief’s chuckle made Friederich snort. “But rest assured–”

“This is our sister we are speaking of, not only Gottesreich.” From the two brothers, Friederich had always been the hot-headed one, and wouldn’t hesitate to say a piece of his mind when his little Birdie was concerned. “Harmony has been broken, Father has gone too far in his madness, and this is our only chance to do something, yes.” Friederich leveled the Chief with a hard stare. “But for me, my sister comes first. She’s an innocent in this, screw the Kingdom if any harm comes to her, screw Fa–”

“Friederich.” Hans fixed his eyes on his brother. A warning.

“I understand your feelings and concerns, Friederich. I do, and I share the same sentiment as you.”

“She is not a pawn to be sacrificed in any stage of the plan. This is why she is here.”

“I know. Trust my warriors.” Erwin’s determined glint in his eyes settled any doubts the younger Prince may have had.

Some said he was a master strategist, others a mad genius leading an army of demons. Friederich believed he was both, because you had to be brilliantly crazy to pull stunts as they had pulled before and be victorious each time. His warriors would follow him to the ends of the known world and Friederich deeply respected that.

“We will right the wrongdoings done to this world by the hand of our father. We only wished we realised sooner what his plans were.”

“You realised it in time, enough to do something.”

“We hope so, Erwin.” Hans had a somber expression on his face, really wanting to believe what the Chief said. “We hope so.”

That seemed to conclude their private meeting, seeing both brothers to their respective rooms in the guest houses. The Chief retired to his own too, soon to be shared with his fiancé, before finishing some matters concerning the evening banquet.

As he stepped into the wooden tub filled with warm water, releasing a pleased groan as he lowered himself further into it and felt the tight knots in his back loosen, he couldn’t help but to still think about their little talk with the Princes and the Princess herself.

There was so much work to be done. They were only in the early stages of their plan and so many things could go wrong. Erwin was not stupid, he knew every plan had its risks, but they made the hard work worth it. It was worth it. The three siblings were the key to change the course of the three nations.

Hans was going to be a good King. Down to earth, just, always willing to protect his people and their happiness. He had a great responsibility on his shoulders as the Crown Prince, but Erwin felt more at ease knowing one day he will be the one sitting on the throne of Gottesreich. The Crown Prince despised greed.

Erwin deeply respected Friederich, both as a General who had the trust of his men and as a fierce soldier with a big heart. Those were qualities appreciated in Eldia, since you had to understand life in order to take one in battle. Friederich always honoured his enemies, and Erwin knew that if they ever had to cross swords in a battlefield, it would be a good, honourable fight.

But that wasn’t the plan, no. If it all came together in the end, they would be side by side.

As he let his head rest on the edge of the tub, Erwin’s mind wandered towards the third of the Gottesreichan siblings.

Erwin would be an absolute blind fool if he didn’t agree with what the whispers and rumours said; the Princess was a beauty. Elegance, gracefulness, perfect manners, a lovely face… everything needed to survive in a court and its poisoned, claustrophobic walls. But he would never forget the way she looked absolutely terrified at the prospect of being alone, and Erwin couldn’t blame her at all. It would shake anyone to their cores to be ripped off their homes to be then thrown into an unknown territory. But there was also something else hidden deep under those layers of fear, another reason than a change of culture.

With her doe eyes and delicate features, the Princess reminded him of a scared little fawn.

Erwin only hoped she would lose her fear and be happy here, to be her true self without her father’s strings manipulating her every movement and word. It will be tedious and Erwin will have to use his entire patience, but he was positive he would succeed.

The door of the private bathroom opened without a warning, Levi stepping in with a confident stride and uncaring of Erwin’s nakedness. He closed it with his foot, not even turning back to properly do so, and took a stool to sit down on it. Erwin knew it would be futile to stop Levi from saying what he had on his mind, years of friendship proved him that, and that displeased frown sometimes said more than words.

“This is a terrible idea.” Levi crossed his arms, glaring at the man in front of him. “Are you sure about this, Erwin?”

The Chief chuckled. Levi’s frown deepened.

“Ah, straight to the point as always.” Erwin closed his eyes, feeling Levi’s agitated ones on him. “I am sure.”

“What made you think marrying that Princess will help Eldia?” Levi wasn’t happy about this decision he took, but he knew that deep down Erwin must have a good, important reason to do it. Or maybe not. This was Erwin, you never knew what he had in mind. “Or maybe you want kids now? Don’t tell me it’s that, you bastard. You could have chosen any Eldian woman, they’d be more than happy to do so.”

Erwin couldn’t contain the burst of laughter that escaped from deep in his throat.

“Rest assured, Levi, it’s not kids I want.”

“Then what? It’s Gottesreich we are talking about. Gottesreich and the mad, greedy King. Do you really want to be associated with that?”

“She will help our cause.” Erwin heard Levi sigh. “Thankfully the brothers think so too, the people of her Kingdom have a special spot for her, and that plays to our advantage. Let’s better leave the Mad King thinking he got a stupidly, unbelievable good deal and that he won us, uncultured barbarians, over. You know what they say,” Ah, there it was. That dangerous, cunning glint in his eyes. “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

The Chief and his insane gambles. Levi scoffed.

“You already have planned multiple ways to use her and her ties to the Mad King, haven’t you?”

“You make me sound like an uncaring monster, Levi. But I wouldn’t endanger her at all, that’s not part of the plan.”

“Sometimes you are, dipshit. When you have a plan and are adamant to carry it on, nothing will stop you.” Erwin placed his hand on his chest, chuckling and lowering his head as if he was hurt.

“You wound me.”

“Asshole.” Levi kicked the tub.

“But she isn’t here to be used as a pawn.” That caught Levi’s attention. “She is here for her safety. If she stayed any longer in her Kingdom, she would have her pretty head chopped off or worse. Here she has a second chance.”

“So that’s the deal with her brothers, then? Their sister?”

“That was their only selfish request, that only one life was to be secured at any costs, even over their citizens.”

“Huh. I see. So we are babysitters now.”

“You could put it like that, or also you could think of it as an opportunity to see a beautiful flower bloom, besides the enrichment and merging of our cultures. Don’t you want to expand your knowledge?”

Levi’s brow twitched.

“You are twisted.”

“And you are twisting my words. I meant this,” Erwin tapped his temple. “Our little Princess there is not just a pretty face. I want to see what she is capable of.”

“Huh.”

“I know that behind those scared eyes lies intelligence and knowledge. One time Prince Hans told me she would go with them on diplomatic visits, and how she would take over one day when he was King. She has the skills. She’s observant, or haven’t you noticed?”

“I guess, although today she looked mostly like a frightened mouse, or haven’t you noticed?”

“Ah, indeed I noticed. Do you blame her, though?”

Levi looked at his feet, sighing.

“Not at all.”

Both men remained in silence, going through today’s events. Their lives would drastically change from now on, and Levi wanted to believe it was for the good. Erwin’s voice grabbed his attention again.

“Let’s try our best to make her feel welcome. Everyone would be scared to be in a foreign land with no known faces, no knowledge of the language, only knowing your fate is sealed and you cannot do a thing about it.”

“I think your eyebrows are what scares her the most.” Levi snorted, rising up from the stool. “Although I know other things will scare her more when she sees them.”

“Oi, there’s nothing wrong with my eyebrows.” He splashed a bit of water towards Levi’s direction, knowing how his childish behaviour often set his right hand’s man nerves on edge. He also didn’t want parts of his anatomy discussed while he was, well, naked. Levi deserved a bit of water.

“I hope your kids don't have them.” It was Erwin’s turn to snort.

“Rude.”

“Get out before you look like a raisin. I bet the Princess won’t kiss you then.” Levi grabbed a towel and threw it at the Chief’s face. “Go take a shit and make yourself presentable. You should take her around the town.”

“We better let her rest, it has been a long journey for them.” Erwin left the towel on a nearby stool. “I will take her and her brothers tomorrow to see the town.”

Levi shrugged his shoulders, walking to the door.

“Be on your best behaviour.” Levi rolled his eyes, not sparing a glance towards the Chief. Levi knew he would have that infuriating smirk on his lips.

“I’m always on my best behaviour.”

“Absolutely.”

Erwin watched Levi shake his head and sigh, exiting the bathroom and leaving the Chief snickering and alone with his thoughts.

There were so many things to prepare for his change in his daily life in the upcoming months. For once, he would have to share his house and make room for whatever needs and space the Princess may have.

And tidy.

Erwin scratched his chin, knowing he really should pick up his clothes and take them to get cleaned before Levi lost his patience and set fire to them. Also pick up the maps and books invading every flat surface available. Change the candles, store the seal wax in its rightful place…

Yes, many things indeed.

Erwin let himself submerge slightly into the water, sighing.

///

“This is a nightmare.”

“Oh c’mon, you big dramatic oaf. Look at the bright side of it, he is handsome! And strong! I want one of them myself!”

“Flora!”

“What? I got eyes and I’m not made of stone! Did you see the size of him? I bet he can lift a cow without breaking a sweat.” Flora brushed her Princess’ hair, perfectly detangling and separating the strands to prepare it for the hair style she had in mind, and greatly enjoying her friend’s flustered cheeks. “And he will say to you: “Oh, my Princess! Look at these arms!”, and then will rip his tunic off–” Flora dropped her voice trying to imitate the same pitch as the Chief’s one, and also flexing her own arms as if she was displaying her own inexistent muscles. “And say: “Princess, tonight I will—“

Eva’s scandalised gasp made it worth it.

“Where did you learn all this?!”

“My dear, sweet, virtuous, pure, innocent, Princess.” Flora’s grin made Eva’s mouth twitch.

“No, save it. I don’t want to know.”

“You know the captain’s son, handsome young man—“

“Flora!”

“Those unused rooms where—“

Another gasp.

“No!” Eva covered her mouth. Those rooms?!

“That table— sturdy, let me tell you. But ah! He has good fingers!”

“FLORA.”

The handmaiden snorted, followed by a good-hearted laugh. She resumed brushing the Princess’ hair, already thinking what pins to use this time for the braid and bun.

“I know you had to be the beacon of virtue and holiness for the Kingdom, an example to be followed, but us women are curious and have our needs also. What’s wrong in having a little bit of fun? Haven’t you been curious yourself?” Flora’s smile reassured Eva. Sometimes Eva felt like her handmaiden was a caring big sister, and felt comfortable enough to discuss thoughts she had that never would dare to say aloud.

“I… well.”

“...I know about those forbidden books under your mattress.”

“Then you know the answer.”

Flora’s loud laugh echoed around the room, needing to leave the brush on the vanity and having to clutch her belly. Eva’s cheeks increased their red glow, pointedly ignoring Flora’s outburst. Certainly those who came from the countryside weren’t as lawful to the Holy Scriptures as the ones nearer the Capital or the Palace itself.

Once Flora managed to calm down enough and wiped away tears, she resumed her work, expertly braiding the Princess’s long hair. It always soothed Eva, the way her handmaiden gently manoeuvred her hands and fingers without a harsh and painful pull. Flora said having two whiny younger sisters made you learn fast.

“Hmmm,” Flora tied the braid with a ribbon for now, tapping her finger on her chin while deep in thought. “I was thinking that for tonight’s banquet you should look… exquisite. But distinguished. But making sure our darling Chief cannot take your eyes away from you.”

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you.” Eva rose a delicate brow, looking straight at Flora’s honey eyes through the mirror. Flora snickered, turning around to the multiple open trunks and luggage.

“Of course I am!” Flora rummaged through one of the Princess’ trunks, pulling out a dress. “What about this one?”

“Which one?” Eva turned around to see which piece was Flora holding in her hands. “The red one? Maybe it’s too much… The cleavage and open shoulders—“

“It makes a statement. Our Chief won’t be able to concentrate on anything else but you.”

“I really don’t want to draw too much attention to myself, Flora. You know how much I despise it.”

“You will draw it regardless of what you are wearing, my darling Princess. Sadly you are new, and everyone wants to see the novelty.”

“I know…”

“So let's make them look and drop their jaws when they do.” Flora’s eyes brightened at her own words, a fire burning in them.

“I wish I had your confidence.” Eva sighed looking down at her hands.

“Oh no no no—” Flora left the dress on top of the bed, walking next to her Princess and holding her face in her hands and squeezing her cheeks. “Do not give me that speech!”

“Whut Fwlora—“

“Not buts! Show them what the proud, brilliant and beautiful Princess of Gottesreich is capable of!”

///

“This was Flora’s doing, right?”

“You know there’s nothing one can do to stop her once she’s set on something.” Eva sighed, hearing Hans chuckle.

“Fierce woman.” Friederich replied, smirking.

“Indeed.”

“You will thank me later, your Highness.” Flora’s smug smirk made Friederich snicker.

Hans knew her sister’s handmaiden was a hurricane. Stubborn as a mule, also. But had the biggest heart and best intentions. He still remembers when Flora came to the palace to start as a maid, a twig of a girl but with a big smile and endless energy. Chatty, too.

She was perfect for quiet, reserved and shy Eva. He also remembers how Eva would hide behind curtains or a tree because she was not prepared for her new extroverted maid. Now, as they grew, they both turned to be exceptional women with an unbreakable bond. But Flora still pushed Eva to get out of her comfort zone quite often, much to the Princess’ dismay.

The dress did cause a statement.

Once she removed her cloak upon entering the Great Hall, rearranged now to be filled with long tables and so much food it made the royal siblings’ eyes widen, Eva’s shoulders were openly displayed, as well as her long neck and collarbones, the dress neck line following a V ending in the perfect spot to either not be a vulgar display of cleavage and being cheeky enough to intuit what was underneath. It fit perfectly to her body, Flora made sure of that when the royal tailor came to take her measurements. It really was a beautiful and warm dress, velvety to the touch and thick enough to compensate for the open area. It also had embroidered motifs of leaves and flowers decorating the neckline and long sleeves, and a beautifully crafted belt made by the best Gottesreichan artisans that accentuated her waistline. Flora named it the “Jaw Dropper”. Eva scoffed at the name, thinking of how silly it was, until she wore it one day at court and had to admit the nickname suited it just fine.

Like now.

Needless to say the Chief was shocked to see skin revealed, considering how covered and bound the Princess was earlier. A quick look to the Princess’ handmaiden, who stood behind her and not even making an effort to contain her pleased smirk, made the Chief know who was behind the sudden wardrobe change.

The Gottesreichan entourage were led to the main table, as etiquette dictated for being their guests of honour. Flora was being led to another table as they approached their seats, and the thought of having Flora alone and away filled Eva with dread. She wanted Flora with them, secure with her own people, and also to have someone to help make this moment more bearable; Flora always made everything better, especially boring banquets, and the handmaiden thoroughly enjoyed them, and well, sometimes making fun of some lords. That was refreshing, even more when she had to fake smiles and politeness when all Eva wanted to do is lie down on her bed with a book.

Disregarding everything she had been taught, surprising herself even for her own selfish actions, Eva sought Moblit. Father wasn’t there to punish her now, and hoped Hans and Friederich understood her.

“I’m terribly sorry to be a burden, Moblit, but I have a request to make if it is not much trouble.” the warrior in question raised his brows. Seeing how the Princess was fidgeting with her fingers and was trying to hide it, Moblit encouraged her with a smile.

“What can we do for you, Your Highness?”

“I’d like to have my handmaiden, Flora, seated with me. I know protocol dictates otherwise, but–” Eva really hoped it would be possible. She felt her brother’s stares on her and was making her even more nervous. “I’d really appreciate it, if possible.”

Moblit looked surprised, but nodded, still maintaining his smile.

“Do not worry, Your Highness, it’s not trouble at all.”

The way the Princess’ face illuminated itself with a smile shocked the man, and hurriedly went to fetch the handmaiden in question. Flora looked at Eva and then at her supposed spot on a table near the main one, but followed Moblit nonetheless. Eva was glad she decided to ask for her, because they seated Eva next to the Chief and wasn’t sure she would have survived if Flora had not been by her side.

The handmaiden was giddy, usually having to sit on the other tables and entertain herself with the other guests while the Princess dealt with Princes and Lords; Flora recalled those times the Princess would roll her eyes whenever they crossed their gazes and both women had to hide their smirks behind their drinks. Flora knew she wouldn't have had any trouble in making friends as usual, despite the lack of language between her and the Eldians. Eva often called her a social hurricane, besides a menace when Flora had ideas.

“This looks delicious, doesn’t it?” Flora looked at the table once they were seated and people started chatting, stopping herself just in time from whistling in amazement. “So much food! They certainly didn’t fall short on it.”

“It does.” Eva sat more rigidly than usual, the closeness with the Chief getting on her nerves. She tried not to raise her voice too much, but had to agree with Flora. “The vegetables look very fresh.”

Eldian servants poured wine to the goblets and left the decanter on the table, busy with the work they had ahead.

“Careful with it, it’s… strong.” Eva looked at her own goblet with dread. She did not want to repeat her performance from before.

“That’s because you cannot hold alcohol, Princess.”

“That’s not true.” Eva knew she sounded like a petulant child.

Flora was about to retort, but was stopped by the Chief getting everyone’s attention by standing up and grabbing his own goblet. The room became silent, everyone focusing their eyes on him. Moblit silently moved to stand behind the Gottesreichan guests, ready for when their Chief spoke up.

The Chief’s strong voice boomed, speaking so everyone in the room could clearly hear him. Eva was still impressed at how his voice reminded her of rumbling thunder on a summer’s storm, and how easily he filled any room with his presence. Eva knew many nobles and princes who wished they had such a commanding presence.

Moblit’s voice made her tear her eyes away from the man.

“People of Eldia, rejoice! For tonight we celebrate and welcome a new member of our tribe. Tonight marks the start of a new stage in our lives and history, the union of two cultures. Please, welcome Princess Eva into your hearts, as she is to become my wife in the upcoming months.”

The Eldians intently listened to their Chief, some nodding, some gasping with excited smiles, some crossing their arms in a display of concentration, some with skeptical frowns. The Princess dreaded the last ones, especially when the attention of the Eldians was shifted to her, their gazes and murmurs not helping the wreck of nerves inside her guts. She will have to be careful with those who weren’t compliant with such news. Eva was not stupid, she knew not everybody was going to be happy and excited to see her here, even less marrying their leader, to become his wife. Surely they all expected someone else, but certainly not her. It was not a secret that Gottesreich had enemies across the continent, and Eldia wasn’t exactly on good, perfect friendly terms with the Holy Kingdom. Eva only hoped her presence here would smooth sore bumps and begin more friendly exchanges between nations.

The Chief turned to her, gesturing to his left with his hand. His eyes didn’t leave hers as she took her cue to gracefully stand up and bow to those who were to become her new people, raising up more murmurs. Flora always told her how her stoic and impassive face amazed her, even though she knew the Princess was a mess inside every time she had to face public speeches and banquets, but remained calm on the outside, not giving away one single thought of hers.

Tonight she really hoped it was the case.

“I propose a toast.” The Chief raised his goblet as he kept talking, while Moblit kept translating. Everyone went to do the same, grabbing and raising their goblets up high. The Chief turned his palm up, offering it for the Princess to delicately pose her own on it, her heart beating wildly inside her chest as the Chief closed it in his grip. His hand was massive. “For this union, for my future wife, for the good of Eldia! May the Goddesses Maria, Rose and Sina bless our guests! Praise the Goddesses!”

“Praise the Goddesses!” The roar of the Eldians was deafening, and everyone cheered in unison as they heartily drank as was customary.

Eva swallowed down her grimace as the wine touched her tongue and went down her throat, scorching as it did earlier. The Chief squeezed her hand, and Eva realised it was slightly trembling. Her husband-to-be was looking at her, unreadable as before, as he let go of her hand and Eva tried to not yank it back to her side in a panic; for him to witness such weakness was embarrassing. Eva left the goblet on the table and sat down as the Chief did, careful of the dress skirt. This was going to be a long night. Moblit went back to his seat on the Eldian side of the table, but not without pausing to whisper “you did well, Princess” to Eva. That was comforting.

“See? Cannot hold it at all.” Eva’s earrings slapped her jaw from the force of her head turning to fix a stare at Flora. Eva ignored the sting.

“Oh, stop it! I told you it’s strong!”

“Do you want me to remind you of that time, at Prince Zeke’s birthday party, where you–”

“No! Shush! Don’t remind me!” Eva turned her head towards the front, raising it with as much dignity as she could and a slight blush dusting on her cheeks. Not that night, Eva swore she let out even her first meal as a mere babe. It had been horrible. Flora had to hold her hair while telling another maid to get her water and a calming tea to settle her stomach. She did not dare step out of her rooms for the entire morning.

“Hmm?”

“...Okay, you are right. I cannot hold it. Satisfied?”

“For now.”

“Don’t make me regret this.” Eva sighed as she took her napkin. It was a nice fabric, Eva was surprised.

“As if! You already have to thank me, the Chief hasn’t taken his eyes from you.”

Eva froze, venturing a quick look to her right to see how indeed the Chief was glancing her way while sipping on his drink. He seemed amused but also as if he had his mind thinking on something. Eva hastily returned her gaze to her plate.

“Told you it would work!” Flora’s smug shake of her head made Eva sigh.

She was right. It did work.

“Don’t worry Birdie, I’ve seen princesses and nobles shoving their bosoms to everyone’s faces with their dresses.” Friederich leaned in, catching his sister’s attention with a cheeky smile. “You are safe.”

“See? Even Friederich here agrees with me! You have to show off that beautiful neck of yours!”

“Take some mercy on my poor sister, Flo.”

“Hm,” Flora drank from her goblet, leaning back on her seat. “Only because you asked nicely.”

“You both,” Hans’ voice rose. The three of them looked over at the Crown Prince calmly cutting some meat from his plate. “Behave. And Eva,” Hans looked at Eva with gentle eyes. “You did good today, I’m proud of you.”

Hans' smile and praise warmed Eva, happy of today’s efforts being noticed. She achieved to keep making her brothers proud, and hoped her father would be too. A timid smile rose to her lips.

The banquet passed without much more trouble, but Flora kept talking and made the Princess be out of her silent shell. Eva didn’t know if to feel relieved or saddened for not being able to communicate with the Chief, as one would do in any banquet with your dinning partner, but Eva pointedly tried to avoid looking at him, although she once or twice looked to his side for guidance when some Eldian dishes were presented and she had no idea how one was supposed to eat that. The Chief was patient enough to show her when she looked lost, and Eva kind of wanted to groan in embarrassment and thump her head on the table at the thought of what must the Chief think of her, even unable to eat without guidance as if she was a child.

The desserts were delicious, though.

As the night continued, some Eldians began dancing in the center of the Great Hall to the lively tunes the band played on a corner. They cheered and laughed loudly, inviting others to join and spin around the improvised dance floor. Those who weren’t dancing yet, followed the rhythm of the music with the clapping of their hands and thumping of feet on the floor, singing along.

The air was cheery and happy, contagious even. Some warriors went to the center of the floor, like Mike with that female warrior from before. Even Moblit was dragged to it by an excited warrior with a wide smile and sparkling brown eyes. The Chief remained on his seat, enjoying the jolly atmosphere of his people having a good time. Levi kept refusing people coming to ask him for a dance.

Eva watched fascinated at the Eldian dances, so different from those back home. They were not afraid of bodies touching bodies, hands clasping and hugging, spinning, jumping… it was as if a joyful spell had been casted on them. Even Flora joined, and Eva was really not surprised at that, when an Eldian approached her. Flora was torn for a split second, not wanting to leave the Princess alone, but Eva nudged her, begging her handmaiden to have a good time on her behalf. So there she was, dancing and spinning and laughing as the Eldian man tried to follow her pace. Eva couldn’t help her smile, enjoying her friend having a good time.

As the night progressed, more people joined and changed partners as others took a break. Knowing how Friederich loved to dance when he was at foreign banquets, Eva did not try to feign surprise or shock when he took Flora to join him in a dance as she had come back to take a break too, this time shoving her to her brother’s arms, whispering “go go go!” for only her to hear. Eva considered this payback for the dress, raising a brow with an almost imperceptible smirk as Flora sent her a dirty, flustered look her way when Friederich twirled her around. Her smugness fell when the Chief’s voice rumbled beside her, Moblit translating for him as the poor warrior managed to take a seat again after his dance partner let him.

“You don’t dance, Your Highness?”

Oh dear. Oh no. He was asking for a dance?

"My deepest apologies, I wouldn't want to expose my lack of gracefulness in front of my Lord. I am not acquaintanced with the dance moves or songs, and I’m afraid also I only know Gottesreichan court dances.”

Hans watched intently at their interaction, curious as to what her sister was going to do to get out of that one. Normally he would come to her rescue, or Friederich or Flora, but from now on she had to be on her own. The Chief answered and Moblit translated.

“I can teach you.”

Hans saw Eva swallow. There was no way she was getting out of that one, poor thing.

“I–I really don’t want to cause any embarrassment on you–”

“I was told you were a good dancer, though. I’m sure you are a fast learner too, Your Highness.”

The Chief stood up, his form towering over her as he offered his hand. Eva quickly looked at Hans, as if he would try to save her at the last minute, but he pointedly looked another way. Traitor! Eva didn’t have any other option but to accept the invitation and spend the most distressing moment of her life, for now. She heard Levi scoff and shake his head, saying something loud enough for the Chief and Moblit to hear, making the big man huff amusedly and Moblit to sigh.

People were staring, and Eva saw Flora encourage her with excited nods and smiles, mouthing “Go!”, and then “Like the summer solstice dances!”, at her. Friederich fixed a stare at the Chief as he saw his hand settle on the Princess’ waist after guiding Eva’s hand on his shoulder, holding her free hand in his own. The Chief smiled at her, trying to reassure the Princess as he squeezed her hand, and Eva had two swallow down a noise as she noticed how his hand engulfed her own. Even her waist felt small in his grasp.

The Chief gently guided her through the first steps of the dance, swaying and hopping to get used to it, and Eva felt clumsy like a newborn colt trying to follow him. Her nerves were not helping at all, too focused on the feel of his hand on her waist and back, its warmth scorching even through the thick layers of the dress, or the way his chest pressed against her back when the Chief tested the waters when he made her twirl through a step of the dance. Eva maintained her eyes locked on the Chief’s, as one should do when dancing with a partner, and Eva was sure the Chief could clearly see her anguish in them at the thought of either stepping on his foot, or being a poor dance partner, but he only saw genuine amusement in them. Maybe she was not doing that bad.

The music picked up a faster rhythm again, the banquet attendants getting back to their conversations and dancing partners, although curiously keeping an eye on the spectacle of having the Chief dance with the Princess. Eva could feel her uneasiness slip away, her confidence swelling at the thought that her trembling hands hadn't given her anxiety away, and allowed herself to move more freely. It was as Flora said, a dance like the summer solstice dances from Gottesreich where you let joy and music guide you and your partner. Still, the Eldian way of dancing was more wild, less bound and constrained, and more light on the feet, loose.

Feeling how the Princess was less strained and rigid, the Chief increased the speed of his movements too, following the band’s rhythm. He was enticed by the way the skirt of the dress flowed, reminding him of a flower in full bloom moved by a slight breeze, and the way her cheeks were reddened by both the efforts and her own nervousness.

The Chief felt bold, wanting to see how much he could push and test the Princess’ limits for tonight, and encouraged by the clapping of the people and the increased tempo of the song pushing the dancers into a more frenzied section, nearing the end of the song, the Chief made the Princess spin before picking her up in the air. He could see how both his hands practically swallowed her waist, fingers almost brushing against each other, and heard both the excited cheers and whistles from his people and the Princess’ startled gasp, frantically searching a place to find purchase for her hands, finally settling on his shoulders and tightening her grip for dear life, feeling his thick muscles underneath. She was light as a feather, and the thought greatly amused him. The Chief spun them around once, setting her back on her feet and continued to dance, Eva needing to ground herself to the fact that The Chief picked her up as if she weighed nothing, besides the boldness of the act itself. This was unthinkable back at court!

The Chief did it again and Eva wanted the earth to swallow her whole at the tiny, undignified squeak she let out as if she was a scared little mouse. Eva swore she saw him chuckle and the Princess pulled her lips in a tight line, fighting for her cheeks to not redden further.

The song was reaching its climax, the musicians wildly playing their instruments in an intense performance, and in a final spin and hop of the dance the Chief pulled the Princess close, ending the dance with their bodies pressed against each other and not taking their gazes away, staring intently into the other.

The Great Hall erupted with applauses and cheers, everyone taking a moment to step away from their partners, conversations and food to congratulate everyone in the room. Eva was panting, acutely aware of how her chest was squished and pressed against his own as he too tried to regain his breath, hands still clasped together and his other one on her small of the back. Her fabric felt flimsy and thin to her now, as if she was too exposed to his gaze, and Eva wanted to curse Flora for it; she did not need to look down to see how they were pressed upwards, Eva felt it.

Thankfully he stepped back, probably by the murderous glower of Friederich thrown his way, and released her as he respectfully bowed. Eva did the same, lifting her skirts and returning his courtesy. He then gestured to their seats, and Eva was never more grateful or in agreement with the Chief as she was now. She urgently needed to take a seat and process everything. Flora and Friederich did the same, the handmaiden excitedly sitting down and intently looking at the Princess, ready to open her mouth. The Chief speaking stopped her.

“I knew you were a fast learner, Your Highness. It was a beautifully performed dance.” Moblit translated, and both women saw the Chief nod at them both with a pleased smile before drinking from his goblet.

“Thank you for the dance, my Lord, I’m honoured.”

“Although, I never thought a mouse could make such adorable noises.”

Eva wanted to scream.

///

Eva still had the memory of the Chief’s hand on her body, like a scorching imprint deep in her mind. Eva swore her skin still tingled from the contact, even if she was in her nightgown and staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. Her fingers were nervously braiding and unbraiding her hair, going over today’s events and banquet.

Flora was already out like a light, her deep breaths signaling how deep into her slumber she was, and Eva could not blame her. Flora truly tired herself dancing, and Eva did not have the heart to tell her to behave, that was Eva’s job. A perfect pretty puppet. Flora did not represent the virtuousness and regalness of the Holy Kingdom, and Eva preferred it that way; Flora was a free spirit, and Eva would rather have her fly like a free bird than have her caged as herself in her duties.

This was to become Eva’s new life here, living amongst demons. Different place, same cage.

The Princess was not looking forward to the walk around the village that the Chief proposed for tomorrow morning, much preferring to stay in her rooms and scream into her pillow until her vocal chords were sore. She also wasn’t eager to go on the customary hunt the Eldians performed for their brides and grooms in the forest. Whenever Eva had to tag along the hunting trips back at any court, rolling her eyes internally at the nobles and princes showing themselves like peacocks, she was bored out of her mind. The Princess usually sat down at the picnic blanket spread out on the grass and under a tree’s shadow, drinking her cup of coffee with the other ladies and Flora. Eva always zoned out, answering with monosyllables and enough words for the other conversing partner to not feel ignored, as she gazed at the flowers or birds.

Sighing deeply, Eva let go of her hair and shifted to her side, facing the window.

At least the moon was the same.

[sebastianshaw]

I could have imagined a different plot in the future. If I were a writer at Marvel, I would have taken Magneto and Shaw and make them team up so Cerebro can travel through time.

Shaw gets his love resurrected and Magneto gets Anya (this is one option. I am still very conflicted about this idea.).

The other possibilities would have been endless.

I am not a fan of time travel plots PERSONALLY but this would be better than Duggan's story not simply for "does not make me rage" but also in that, while Duggan's story was a dead-end single-issue one with no ramifications on the wider plot of Marauders or the larger Krakoa storyline, this would be a HUGE THING. Admittedly, I'm not sure Krakoa NEEDS another "huge gamechanger" because it's such a huge one itself, but it opens up a ton of possibilities---and questions. Like, if Cerebro can travel through time, what else can? Can atrocities be stopped? Modified? Will that alter the present or merely create new timelines as it usually does? If Cerebro can travel to the past, why not the future, and how would that relate to the "no precogs" rule, if information from the future can be obtained in the present? More than that, if Cerebro proves able to resurrect Anya, this means one of two things---either Anya was a mutant all along. . . or it can download the genetic profiles and minds of humans too. Which, makes sense. Why wouldn't it be able to do that with some reprogramming? Which then begs the question of, should mutants use it to resurrect humans? What implications does that have for the Kill No Man law? What about the world at large? On a personal level, we would get Dadneto content untainted by previous issues, as he would have with Wanda and Pietro and even Lorna too. Anya died when their relationship was pure and ideal. She has nothing but fond memories of her father, and he has nothing but love for her. There's no complications there. It would be purely wholesome fluff that I think a lot of readers would enjoy as a break from. . .everything, both in the Magnet family and the general heaviness of the current X-storylines. If Anya is human (which I like, I always thought it was poetic that she and Magda, who are a big part of Magneto's figurative humanity and his rejection of literal humanity, were human) then there's also the seed planted of, how is it going to be for her growing up on an island where she's the only one without powers? A seed that admittedly won't go anywhere, since Krakoa is going to wrap up probably in the next year by my estimate, but an interesting question at least. On Shaw's end, I think Lourdes coming back works SO MUCH BETTER if the man she loves has changed into someone else, rather than him having always been a bastard. If Shaw was always awful, then he's just the same asshole she remembers, no surprises. If he seems like the man she loved, and who clearly loves her, the gradual realization that he's actually become everything she feared he would is SO MUCH MORE POWERFUL. Because that was the thing Duggan missed---Lourdes wasn't scared BY Shaw, she was scared FOR him. Lourdes had a background in the Hellfire Club and she knew it changed people for the worse, so she didn't want Shaw to get deeper in it. She said she feared he would become corrupted. Which, after her death, he did. So basically Shaw and Lourdes would get domestic bliss for a time, but she's going to start realizing, however much he might care for her personally, he's become an evil man, a cold greedy heartless bastard just like she wanted to SAVE HIM FROM BECOMING. And now she's like, what do I do? Leave? Try to change him? What is her reaction? And what is SHAW'S reaction to her telling him this? To her being disgusted with him? I don't believe Shaw can change, not much anyway, but would he try? Or would he just let her go? What? There's SO MUCH MORE DRAMA TO BE HAD THIS WAY! And in a way that's true to the characters! It doesn't make Shaw look any better than he is, but it doesn't rely on making him worse than he was either, and it gives Lourdes an actual ROLE and PERSONALITY instead of just being this simpering helpless dolly that Emma has to save. Literally, I thought of this in less than an hour and it's a better idea than the whole Marauders series has been. Also I got your other ask, I will get to it later! I want to make you a lil fic out of it :3

[imaginesforsportsanime]

Fluff Alphabet [Miya Atsumu]

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Atsumu doesn’t have any preferences when it comes to what you do together though there are a few private activities that he enjoys more than others. He doesn’t generally have the energy to take you out on dates but he doesn’t want you to be miserable or neglected either (as then he’d be considered a bad boyfriend and he refused to accept that) so he’ll make reservations at a fancy restaurant or find an event happening in town to take you to during the time he’s back.

Atsumu wants to have you all to himself and, if he hadn’t had the chance to be with you alone for a while, you’re likely not going out anywhere for at least a full day as he’s very demanding of your attention. A lot of his time at home is spent trying to sleep, catching up on any shows or movies that you generally watch together, and other domestic couple activities you participate in when he’s actually home. You can’t say you mind as he’s gone a majority of the time whether he’s away for games or just practicing, so having him all to yourself without having to deal with other people is just fine in your book.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He admires that you’re not a person who’s easily intimidated by him. He already had countless hot girls who were vying for his attention but you were entirely unbothered by it, treating him as you would any other person while still showing respect for his volleyball skill. It had made him a little more intrigued and he made the effort to talk to you before his games, pleased when you eyes were on him and you quietly watched him serve from the stands. The one day after he’d gotten countless points off his serves he’d turned to find your face in the crowd and saw a smile, just for him, and from that moment on he knew he was screwed when it came to you.

The first thing that had attracted him to you was your smile, but he’d always thought you were pretty all around. You had a calming aura to you and though you certainly seemed to be the more mature time, he found you could still be teasing or sarcastic when pressed by him. You weren’t one to easily fall for his lies or to bend to his whims without question so your strong personality was also a great mark of beauty.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Atsumu knows he comes off like an asshole who can be selfish and self-centered but there are a lot of sides to him that only you get to see, and contrary to popular belief, he does know how to care about another person. He’d place his hands on your shoulders and remind you that he’s there in front of you, trying to bring your head back down to earth so that you’d focus on the things he was saying. He tended to be blunt even when he was cheering you up but his rationale was you wouldn’t believe him if he tried to sugarcoat his words in any way as you knew him too well, and he’d rather you understand the point he’s making without extra conversation needed.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Have a partner who comes to watch him win in the Nationals? He’d love that reality, being able to see you in the crowd, eyes lit up with pride as you watch him obliterate genuinely tough, professional opponents. He would have proposed at that point with no actual solid wedding date in mind, just the intent to take you as his life partner so no one else was confused about who you belonged to.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Atsumu would need someone to balance him out dominance wise because if you’re a person who simply bends to his will, he’ll get bored easily. He wants someone who can challenge him and who doesn’t take any of his shit, who calls him out when he’s being childish but who also wants to support him in all his endeavors. He’s rather protective over you, too, and wouldn’t like if anyone called you bitchy or rude for how you dealt with him; he certainly frustrated you enough that all your reactions to him are well-deserved.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It depends on what the fight was about but he doesn’t stay angry long unless you’d personally insulted or offended him. There are times where he purposely starts little fights because the make-up sex after is always out of this world and there’s other times where his insensitivity is the cause and he doesn’t always know exactly what he did wrong.

Atsumu is incredibly frustrating even when you’re not fighting so his behavior only seems to get worse when you’re in an argument with him not caring what he says and likely to hurt your feelings if it continues on for too long. He can’t be petty and prone to lying just to lash out at you and say the things he knows hurt the most just because he’s mad and hurting, too, but he can’t say he’s a fan of seeing you in pain when he finally gets himself back together. As he gets older he realizes acting that way is immature and only going to push you away, so he tries to find a way to stop himself from toeing over that line.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

As much as he knows he’s a catch, popular (at least with his looks), and probably capable of being a serial dater, he knows you put in a lot of effort into your relationship with him. There aren’t many people who would have the patience to deal with his antics, the sharp mind to fire back at him whenever he’s being a brat, or the fortitude to push through even when you don’t get to see him often. Atsumu even has to admit that the concept of dating a string of girls instead of just one person isn’t as appealing as it used to be, finding some comfort in going home to a person he knows well and who he knows loves him to the moon and back. As you’re together longer he grows more grateful and shows it far more often.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He’ll tell little white lies if it means avoiding a needless fight that he’s not in the mood for or if it’ll spare your feelings (he knows it’s shocking but he does care about how certain things might make you feel). He doesn’t like lying to you about big or life-changing things as he feels he wouldn’t be able to get away with that for long and if you no longer trusted him, well, it was probably game over for your relationship. He doesn’t tell you every little detail of what’s happened to him or anything like that but he does highlight the important bits and the ones he thinks you really need to know (it helps him save face if he was the one in the wrong in some situations).

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You inspire him to at least strive to be a bit of a better person. He knows he can be rude and that his unfiltered thoughts aren’t always the greatest but he doesn’t want you to be someone you’re not proud to show-off. His volleyball achievements are definitely enough to parade him around on your arm but… Ever since his brother said you’d leave him high and dry once you really got to know Atsumu deep down, he’d made an effort to be the slightest bit nicer. This generally only applies to strangers he meets and to people he knows you’re fond of, as his teammates and anyone on the court will still have to deal with the full brunt of his bad attitude.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Atsumu hates feeling jealous and he doesn’t get that way often, mostly because his icy stare keeps any of your other suitors at bay, even before you’d officially begun dating. He was sure to specifically target each person he knew was into you, talking loudly around them about how quickly your relationship was turning seriously or destroying their self-esteem with backhanded compliments so they’d never gather the courage to ask you out. He’s rather underhanded about it but to be fair, there are plenty of others who act rather forcefully with you and piss him off even more.

He deals with it through underhanded tactics or jealous sex, where he makes you cry out his name over and over again until the point is across in his mind that you’re all his. He doesn’t like to bring any other emotion into it as he’s doesn’t like being seen as a soft person but it’s made clear he doesn’t want to lose you by how he acts afterwards, planting loving kisses along your neck and mumbling out ‘I love you’ just as a friendly reminder.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Atsumu’s kisses are greedy and demanding, his hands often on either side of your face as he brings you closer to him. There’s always a certain heat generated between you when he starts kissing you with such meaning, and it can often lead to more unless you’re really pressed for time. You can’t help but focus all your energy on kissing him back, matching his energy, it’s almost like a challenge. I love you more? Oh, you don’t? Then prove it. His more intense kisses tend to leave you dizzy and breathless which only causes a cocky smirk to find it’s way to his face, with him saying something along the lines of ‘I know I make your knees weak babe but you don’t have to worry, I’ll catch you’.

You had been flirting back and forth for awhile, attending his games and watching intently from the crowd. He’d felt the urge to kiss you every time you’d greeted him after his games, only holding back as he didn’t want the moment ruined by his brother who would likely make some sort of annoying joke about the whole ordeal. But you were the person who had his heart and he knew that better than anyone, so why should he hold back? After successfully getting revenge against a team that’d proven trouble for Inarizaki he finally feels like it’s time, and what’s even better, there’s already some random dude flirting with you. As soon as he greets you he pulled you into his arms, smirking in that self-assured way as he saw your cheeks turn darker, leaning down to press his lips against yours briefly before saying ‘Hey, babe, did you see that last serve?’ The person who had been previously flirting slinked off without another comment and while you lambast him for rushing you like that, you also think it’s about time he made a move.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

There was actually a point in time where you didn’t know if Atsumu would ever say he loved you. Things in your relationship were rocky after about a year and a half together, with you rarely seeing him due to his new place on the Black Jackals. You had expected this, of course, but not seeing him while also constantly fighting over the silliest little things was beginning to wear down on you. You rarely talked when he was home and as much as your heart ached to think of it, you wondered if releasing him from this relationship and just letting him worry about volleyball was the best course of action. That thought must’ve been plastered across your face as Atsumu confronted you that night, ending with another fiery fight that leaves you both misty-eyed. When he finally says it, so quietly you almost missed it, you realized how much of the past few weeks the fights have been centered on how little you thought he felt for you. It doesn’t make everything better but it means something, and you soon find yourself in his arms, being held and told over and over again how much you were loved.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Atsumu doesn’t really have a strong opinion on getting married as he was focused on becoming a professional volleyball player and soaring to higher and higher heights, only remembering that it’s a thing couples do if you bring it up. He’s happy either way but if you’re the type who wants to be married, he’d seriously consider it; being tied down to one person the rest of his life would’ve made past him nervous but as an adult, he’s learned the value in having that one person you could truly always turn to in your time of need (he refused to count his brother as this for petty reasons).

He’s not the gooey romantic type but he knows he better make this count as it’d be remembered by you for the rest of your life (and, he supposed, committing himself to one person forever was as big a deal for him as you) so he tries to put some thought into it. It occurs when he has a break from tournaments and is told to rest, deciding a vacation somewhere peaceful and warm is the perfect escape and opportunity for him to pop that question. Getting to spend this extra time with you uninterrupted is another reminder as to why he loves you as much as he does, and he doesn’t hesitate at all during dinner that night when he gets on one knee and presents the ring to you.

Saying he’s a perfect husband would be a lie, but he’s your husband, and you love him dearly. He still has bad habits and childish behavior at times, but you also know that he’s loyal to you and dedicated to making things work out between you. He really doesn’t want to start all over with a new person and you laugh every time he says this when you’re arguing about something, assuring him that if you had intentions of leaving him you would’ve acted on it by now. After all these years you’ve built a love with a solid foundation that’s hard to topple over.

Nicknames – What do they call their S/O?

Refers to you by your name for the most part or a shortened version of it that he thinks sounds ‘cooler’. Babe and baby are also commonly used by him, mostly in front of other people or family.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Atsumu is nicer and more considerate to you than most, wanting to spend his free-time with you and your texts tend to be the first that he answers (much to his Osamu’s irritation). He looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye and a smile that others find odd as it’s not his normal cocky smirk; he looks genuinely happy when he’s talking to you and for him to show sincere emotion over how he normally is, you have to mean something to him. Rumors swirl the halls of school long before you even realize he has a crush on you but he doesn’t deny any of them, simply laughing when asked and turning to walk away without another word.

He’s not the mushy type but it’s obvious to anyone who knows him when he’s showing interesting in something other than volleyball. He was good at flirting but he wasn’t really defined as a skirt-chaser as it was clear his real interests lay elsewhere, the mere fact that he could hold conversations with you without hitting on you was the real tell that his interest was genuine. You were a person that interested him and he wanted to know more, so he went out of his way to run into you, to the point the coincidences really started to pile up and it was blatantly obvious he wanted something out of you.

Atsumu noticed that even when he’s straight-forward about his feelings you have the tendency to not believe him, his reputation getting the better of your judgment (or perhaps you just wanted to keep your heart safe). He’s disgruntled that you really believe he’d lie about something like having feelings for you, even he knew when he shouldn’t go too far, but he remains consistent with his flirting and showing interest in you in an attempt to get you to see how real his feelings were. His heart yearns for more when he sees you laughing with your friends or hugging someone else because he craves that close intimacy with you, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get the point across to you somehow.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Atsumu doesn’t see a reason not to be considering how hard he had to work to woo you and convince you to be his significant other in the first place, the fun part comes in showing you off to other people and making them jealous of how cute you are (at least in his opinion, and if they don’t think you’re cute, then they’re obviously blind). He likes being able to have an arm casually draped around your shoulder or having you kiss his cheek before you head off to class in the morning, the little shows of affection really make his day better and far more tolerable than they were without you.

Public displays of affection don’t bother him, so its mostly your preference that he’ll base his actions off of. He can kiss you in front of other people without batting an eye and he would love to see how heated up your face was after doing so if you were on the shier side, but he doesn’t do anything too cutesy as he doesn’t want anyone to think of him as soft. He just wants people to be jealous that he’s good at sports and he has a partner.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

When he falls in love he’s determined to make it work out no matter what you’re going through and no matter how frustrated he is with the entire situation. He’s never been one to give up easily and he holds himself to higher standards than others which leaks into his love life; he wants you to see him as a good lover and he wants to actually be one, capable of taking care of your needs without you having a single doubt he could do so.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Atsumu can occasionally hit the nail on the head when it comes to planning overly romantic dates or taking you somewhere nice for you to enjoy yourself but sometimes he can fall flat with gifts that don’t make much sense (but you’re grateful for them anyway, as it means he remembered the occasion without you reminding him). He at least goes out of his way to try to impress you with some of his ideas, like spontaneous breakfast in bed (he’s a better cook than you thought) or a shared bubble bath with candles lining the room. He doesn’t do it very often but you can’t help but feel loved and appreciated when he does.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’ll encourage you to go after any aspiration you had since you supported him in all he did, so paying back the favor only seemed natural. He’ll hold you to high standards if you really want him to help you out and he’ll be more of the ‘tough love’ type of person when it comes into a realm that he understands the inner workings of, but he firmly believes you’re a person who’s capable of doing anything you want.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Atsumu thoroughly enjoys trying out new things and having fun with you, not minding if you have some outside the box ideas on how to keep your relationship interesting. He likes a mixture of routine and spice but you can see how much he loves your surprises by the way his eyes light up. Once your together long enough anything begins to get stale so he tries not to be offended if you want to switch it up in the bedroom or if you want to go somewhere new rather than the same old places you always go, as long as he’s with you he’s sure to have a good time.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Well, he tries, and that’s what counts. Sometimes, he feels like he doesn’t quite understand why you’re reacting the way you do to something he’s said or done which leaves him feeling annoyed because it means he doesn’t know what to do to remedy the situation. But he’s not stupid so it never takes long for him to figure out his mistake and correct it (if he can). He tries to be understanding of your emotions but it works better if you can explain to him why you feel the way you do, though there might be some teasing offered up by him afterward despite baring your soul to him.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You’ve become a pretty important centerpiece in his life, to the point where he knew he’d feel a little lost if he couldn’t come home to you after a long day of training or tough matches that make him want to tear his hair out. Your importance is clearly evident to everyone who’s ever heard him talk about your relationship and though much of his time is spent centered around volleyball, there’s no question of where the rest of his time is dedicated.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Atsumu can be affectionate if he’s in a good mood. He likes to bring you into his arms when you’re on the couch together and nuzzle his face against your neck, mumbling out how lucky he was to have you or how beautiful you were looking that evening. He’ll do other things like bring your legs across his lap or even through his across yours, grinning at you and asking if the position was comfortable (and sometimes asking you to give him a foot massage since if you really loved him, you would). Sometimes, when you’re in the kitchen cooking or doing anything that requires you to stand, he’ll come up from behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, whining that you need to come attend to his needs immediately before he has to leave you again. There are times where he grows incredibly needy and demanding of your attention, mostly when he’s gone for long periods of time, and he whines if he doesn’t feel fully loved before you attempt to leave him again.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

It’s not that he doesn’t miss your presence when he’s gone but he rarely notices how much he misses you until he’s laying in bed alone that night, not feeling the same comfort he does when he can feel you next to him. It’s easy to keep his mind busy when he’s training or playing a game but when he’s alone with his thoughts he just wishes you could get away from work to travel with him. There are some occasions where you do exactly that and he can confidently say he prefers it to you being home alone, but with reality as it is he didn’t make nearly enough money for you to quit your job and follow him around.

He’s actually cuter when he’s missing you, sending you loving texts about missing your smell or how the beds aren’t as comfortable as the one you have back at home. He’ll tell you he misses you and that he loves you before he heads off to sleep (if that day wasn’t too physically intensive for him to the point he just immediately passed out when his head hit the pillow).

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

There’s plenty that he’ll do for you so you can confidently say he’d go to great lengths to keep you in his life, even admitting when he’s in the wrong or that he lied so that the road of forgiveness will begin sooner rather than later. Atsumu wants you to be happy with him so if it means having to be a little more sensitive or him having to remove himself from his comfort zone, he’ll make the sacrifice.

[starkerforlife6969]

@starkermoodboards hi friendo um imma just request a thing then leave. can u do like a v soft like pastel peter with gang leader tony? and like maybe peter had a bf before tony and the bf was an asshole so tony just like helps peter then swoops off with the soft boi. and like all the fluff plz. ily friendo!!!!!!!!! sorry if you don’t want requests :(

TW: mentions of abuse (Peter’s bf is abusive) + violence

The boy walks past exactly on time.

Tony grins, pushing off his bike and wolf-whistling. Peter stops, face breaking into a wide smile, as he glances both ways down the road before skipping over like the little wood sprite he is. He’s carrying two cups, and he holds one out for Tony with a shy little smile.

Goddamn, Peter Parker is beautiful. This morning Tony had to press his gun hard against the temple of some moron, and now, he’s watching as the sunrise glints red over Peter’s beautiful, honey eyes. “I got you a coffee!” Peter beams, his beat up brown satchel strap almost slipping off one shoulder. It tugs the fluffy pink pastel sweater further down; showing a tantalising slip of that gorgeous white collar.

Tony takes it warmly. This close to Peter, he has to look down at the tiny boy, and Peter has to crane back to look up at him. The boy is so small, Tony could envelop him in his arms. He wants to feel Peter cuddled up in his leather, wants to see the boy squeal as Tony takes him for a ride on his bike.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” he drawls, watching as Peter blushes again. “Did you get yourself a hot chocolate?”

Pretty honey eyes slide away. The kid’s a shit liar. His face is so open, so expressive. Tony’s grateful. He doesn’t like liars, and Peter’s face is too beautiful to be hiding anything.

“Pete…” he mutters, and Peter laughs shakily, readjusting his strap and shrugging as he sips from his cup.

He winces a little at the taste, though he tries frantically to hide it. Tony frowns. Peter looks away. “Um, no, it’s just- Dave thought maybe- I should cut back a little on- he thought I-“ Peter laughs again, but it’s a horrible sounding thing. “This is a low-fat black coffee, it’s- it’s nice, really.” He insists.

Anger spreads through him- a furious hatred to the man he’s never met, a pure, dangerous loathing, as he reaches out and grabs the offending drink from Peter’s dainty hand.

“Tony!” Peter exclaims, reaching out for it, “it’s okay, honestly-“

“Do you even know how beautiful you are?” Tony snarls, so angry he can hardly appreciate the gorgeous glow on Peter’s cheek- that little delighted sparkle he gets in his eyes at a compliment. Like he’s not used to them. Like he’s not used to someone telling him he’s perfect. “You don’t have to change a fucking thing, baby. I’m gonna put a bullet in his head if he ever-“

“Tony!” Peter exclaims again, softer this time. “It’s okay, really.”

He hasn’t even realised he’s destroyed both their drinks. His thick fingers breaking through the paper cups so hot liquid is trickling down his hands onto the ground. It’s not boiling, thankfully, but Peter would never give him a drink too hot. The boy is perfect.

“Come here,” Tony whispers, tugging Peter in for a hug. Peter squeaks in surprise, before melting into him. He fits so perfectly into Tony’s chest, those thick, soft curls nestled under Tony’s chin. Tony wants to keep him here. Keep him safe.

It’s almost unreal, knowing someone like Peter Parker. But Tony’s nephew- Harley- had talked about a boy who hadn’t snitched when Harley had needed an alibi for his whereabouts on a Saturday night. One Peter Parker had promised that he and Harley had been at the library; studying, and because of Peter’s impeccable record, the police had believed him.

Tony doesn’t think Harley’s ever even set foot in the library.

But he’d tailed the so called Peter Parker, to see if he was someone they’d have to worry about, and what he’d found was the most gorgeous set of eyes, and friendly smile, and someone who didn’t seem to care that Tony smelt of gun smoke and was so quick to violence that any other person would’ve flinched-

Peter never did. He was sweet and open and appallingly good-natured. So trusting and delicate, that Tony had vowed in that moment to protect him.

To love him. Forever.

“I gotta go to class,” Peter murmurs apologetically, even as he burrows further into Tony’s shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here, baby,” he promises, reaching for a cigarette. Peter nods, smiling.

“Stay safe, Tony!”

Tony chuckles at that, and is so fucking endeared as Peter waves at him as he bounds off into the distance.

“That boy is somethin’ else,” Bucky mutters, appearing out of nowhere to straddle his bike. “Looks like a fuckin’ princess, boss. If anyone knew he was with you, they’d-“

“Well that won’t happen.” Tony snaps, blowing smoke out of his mouth angrily. “Because he’s got our protection, doesn’t he?”

“Sure he does.” Bucky promises. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.”

Tony nods at him. “That’s why you’re my second.”

* Peter’s a few minutes late the next morning. It’s drizzly, but warm, but the rain feels dirty on Tony’s skin. His leather’s hung up on his bike’s handles, and his tank top is stained with motor oil.

It’s only a few minutes, but it’s enough to have him worrying. His hand keeps fingering the trigger of his gun- before Peter appears.

He’s in white denim shorts, his long, cream legs on display before they go into frilly white socks and neat high tops- the laces done up to little bows. His sweater is bright yellow on the grey day- much too big for him, it nearly hides his shorts, as he bounds over. He’s got a brown backpack on today, and his hair looks messier than usual. it’s adorable.

The very sight of him makes Tony’s cock twitch, and the hand around his heart loosens in relief.

“Tony! I think it’s gunna rain!” He cries, rushing towards him. “I didn’t bring an umbrella!” He pouts, and Tony wants to ravish him.

Peter leaps into Tony’s arms, hugging him tightly, and Tony breathes him in. He smells of strawberry body wash and lemon shampoo, and something floral- fragrant and warm. “You’re late, gorgeous,” he whispers, “I was worried.”

“Sorry,” Peter says earnestly, though he doesn’t offer an excuse. “Hey, Bucky,”

“Doll.” Bucky nods, allowing a small smile.

“You can take my jacket.” Tony murmurs, though in reality he’s been looking for an opportunity to see Peter in his clothes for a long time. “Protect your little sunshine outfit from the rain.”

Peter’s cheeks flood rose, but he shakes his head. “Oh, no, I couldn’t!”

“Baby, I’m insisting-“

“No, Tony, really,” Peter says, voice more worried. “It’s better if-“ he reaches out, to stop Tony from picking up his jacket, and that’s when the sleeve of his sweater slides up, and Tony freezes as he sees the dark blue bruise around Peter’s delicate wrist.

Bucky lets out a hiss behind him, and Peter frowns- before realising, and jerking his hand back.

“It’s nothing!” He cries, sleeve falling back down. “I-Tony-“

“Did he do this?” Tony whispers, trying to keep his voice low. He doesn’t want to scare Peter. Not his perfect boy. How could someone do this? To a boy so beautiful? So sweet? Peter is a ball of sunshine and good intentions- only wants the best for everyone- is the most darling slip of a thing- the most beautiful-

“It was an accident!” Peter cries, “i swear, he didn’t mean to- he’s never- never hurt me before, we were just fighting and he- he didn’t want me to go so he grabbed my hand, but he’s- he’s never hurt me before, Tony, I swear.”

Tony stares into those honey eyes for a long time, before he nods. Peter’s telling the truth. He can see that. He brings Peter’s wrist to his mouth and kisses it- very softly. “I believe you, sweetheart. It was the first time. But it was also the last time.” No one will ever mar this skin again.

“Tony, don’t-“ crystal tears gather in those gorgeous eyes, “- don’t hurt him.”

“I’m gonna do a lot worse than that-“

“Tony.” Peter hiccups, flinging himself into Tony’s arms. “Promise.”

Tony lifts Peter up- he’s so goddamn light- and sets him on his bike. “I promise.” He mutters, reluctantly, but he looks at Bucky meaningfully. His second nods in understanding. “Now, Pete, look at me, baby.”

Peter does- so trusting, so open- Tony adores him.

“You’re gonna break up with him, okay? Today, Peter. Is that okay?”

Peter nods slowly. “That’s okay.” He whispers. “I don’t think he- I don’t think he really likes me anyway.”

Who gives a shit what that bastard likes? Tony thinks. It’s about Peter. Who Peter likes. “I like you.” He murmurs. “I really like you.”

Peter goes a furious red. “I like you too.”He mumbles.

“Aww.” Bucky goes, and Tony glares at him.

* Healing takes a long while, but Tony has time.

He buys Peter frothy hot chocolates teeming with whipped cream and marshmallows. Tells him how beautiful he is everyday. Over and over and over again, and some days Peter has trouble believing it- but other days, he giggles like he’s beginning to think it’s true.

Tony only ever touches him gently. Because Peter is something to be cherished. His touch is soft, adoring, and Peter nuzzles into him for comfort and safety, and then just because he wants to.

Peter is a vision on Tony’s bike. Tony’s going to buy Peter one of his own- a nice little red number. Something sexy for his boy.

And then when Peter’s ready, Tony’s going to fuck him so deeply that Peter’s toes will curl- and he won’t remember anyone else. Won’t remember ever being with anyone else.

Tony will worship him. Adore him. Treat him how he should always have been treated.

“Well goddamn, pretty boy,” Tony hisses, a long time later, when Peter pads into the bedroom in nothing but Tony’s leather jacket and a pair of pink panties. “Are you trying to kill me, baby?” He reaches out with greedy hands, hoisting Peter into his lap, so those perfect legs are straddling his thighs and he can touch that brilliant skin.

“I’m pretty?” Peter whispers, ducking his head shyly. He needs reassurance. Everyone still does, sometimes.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Tony groans, voice husky, and Peter beams, nuzzling his neck and pressing butterfly kisses down his throat.

“Will you fuck me, Tony?” He asks innocently, so goddamn gorgeous, and Tony nods- incapable of forming words- “And after- maybe we can order dessert if you- if you want-“

“After I’ve fucked you, baby, I’m gonna get you a whole chocolate fountain, how’s that sound?”

Peter giggles, grinding down eagerly. “Kinda kinky. I’m into it.”

Tony laughs, before capturing those lips for a kiss.

[bellakitse]

Lovin' you is a gift tonight (Lovin' you for all my life)

Ten years ago when Alex leaned in for a kiss, Michael panicked and with it missed his shot. He's lived with that regret for a decade. Some things are always meant to be though and fate gives him a second chance when he runs into Alex at an airport as they wait for their delayed flight.

stuck at the airport fic 13.6K

Michael Guerin has no one to blame for his current situation but himself. Well, maybe he can also blame the weather, which, if he thinks about it, was absolute shit because of global warming, which is the fault of power-hungry politicians and greedy corporations. So really, he isn't the one his sister should be yelling at, not that Isobel Evans cares to listen right now.

"What do you want me to do, Iz?" he asks for the second time when she pauses from lecturing him to take a breath. "I just spoke to one of the attendants at the gate; the flight is delayed because of the snow."

"If you had booked your flight when I asked you to," she starts, repeating herself for the millionth time. He exhales loudly in hopes it will stop her, but not the least surprised when it doesn't. "Instead of waiting till the last minute, you could have gotten a flight from Boston to Dallas to Roswell instead of having to stop in Denver. Where of course there's snow, because it's fucking Colorado, Michael."

“Yeah, well hindsight is 20/20 and all that, Isobel,” he tells her, sighing yet again as she scolds him some more. He takes a seat at the far end of the terminal where there are fewer people, most of his fellow passengers are closer to the gate door, taking their frustrations out on two flight crew members who have the unfortunate luck of being there.

There is only a small cluster of people where he is. An elderly couple who seemed satisfied in dozing off against each other to his right. A woman to his left with a small child who has his face pressed against the window watching the ground crew that is trying to clear the runways, and a man in ripped jeans and a worn leather jacket, sitting across from him. Michael can’t see his face as he roots through his backpack, but what he can see, he likes.

Dark glossy hair a little longer on the top as the fringe falls over the guy’s eyes. Michael spots a few days’ worth of stubble when the guy turns his face, which does nothing to hide sharp cheekbones and the kind of jawline Michael would like to sink his teeth into. He looks down at the guy’s hands as he sorts through his bag and catches a glimpse of chipped black nail polish and silver rings; it makes Michael’s stomach clench as it reminds him of someone else who liked that look. He’s always had a thing for the rocker vibe, and this guy is filling it to a tee. Michael really wants to see his face and see if it matches the rest of the already pretty package.

“Michael, are you even listening to me?” Isobel complains loudly over the phone, distracting him from enjoying the view in front of him.

“Not really,” he answers honestly, shifting to get comfortable on the airport’s hard plastic chairs. “I tend to tune out your bitching,” he tells her, and the guy makes a sound, indicating that he’s overheard the conversation, his head still in his backpack.

Michael smiles, oddly pleased that he’s amused him.

“You’re an asshole.”

“According to you, I’m always an asshole,” he continues, and the guy’s shoulders give a small shake as he finally looks up.

Michael spots brown eyes and full pink lips curved upward. They’re beautiful, but it’s the man’s eyes that Michael is stuck on. Eyes he’s seen before but not in ten years, eyes that haunt his dreams to this day. Eyes that are widening as they look back at him with recognition.

Alex Manes.

“Guerin?” He asks hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper, while the disbelief is loud and clear.

He ends the call without saying goodbye to Isobel.

“Alex,” he croaks out, his voice cracking in a way it hasn’t since he was a teenager. Given that he hasn’t seen Alex since then, the irony isn’t lost on him.

Alex Manes, the guy responsible for his bisexual awakening.

He gives him another once over now that he can see his face, his gaze no longer interested in a stranger, but instead in the guy that in his private moments, he calls ‘the one that got away.’

At 17, Alex had made the angsty emo look work for him, now the eyeliner was gone, but the edginess was still there. He wasn’t in head to toe black like back in the day; there was a soft-looking green sweater peeking out under his leather jacket, and his hair wasn’t spiked up with vast amounts of gel. Instead, it looked soft, and Michael’s hand itched to touch it.

He recalls the last time they were truly alone. Alex’s kindness still, to this day, warms him from the inside out. The lack of hesitation in Alex to let Michael use his shed when he needed a warm place to stay. How he had given Michael his first guitar just because Michael liked to play, and Alex wanted to do something nice for him.

There is a flutter in Michael’s stomach as he thinks about Alex, gentle and hesitant, leaning in to kiss him. Just as quickly, his stomach drops as he remembers how he turned his face away at the last second in a moment of panic. An action that Michael instantly regretted and has continued to regret ten years later.

After their failed almost kiss, Alex kept his distance, letting him continue to stay in the shed but never coming back to spend time with him, and before he knew it, they were swept up in the excitement of graduation, and after that, Alex was just gone.

He knew enough about Alex's family life to see that he wanted to be as far away from his father as possible, and the boy had not waited for a second longer than he had to. Diploma in hand, he’d gotten a bus out of Roswell, leaving the town with Rosa Ortecho. By then, it was too late for Michael, who was only just realizing that Alex Manes was someone that mattered more to him than anyone outside of Max and Isobel. Leaving Michael with the painful realization that he’d missed his moment.

“What are you doing here?” he blurts out as he gets out of his chair and takes a step towards Alex, instantly cringing at the volume and speed with which he says it. He comes to a halt as Alex startles back in his seat. “I mean- that is-“ he stammers as he waves his hand nervously, feeling his face grow hot. Alex lifts an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to say something coherent. “Hi?”

Alex stares at him for a moment longer before he breaks out into a smile, letting out a soft laugh. “Hi, Guerin,” he says, taking a step towards him as he stands, and Michael realizes with a jolt that Alex is going in for a hug. Luckily his body isn’t stuck on stupid like his brain and mouth, and he gets it to cooperate in time. He wraps his arms around Alex’s shoulders and tries not to do something mortifying like let out a moan at the feel of Alex’s hard body against his, or worse, press his face into Alex’s neck and inhale his scent like a total creep.

“Hi, Alex,” he mumbles into his shoulder, holding on longer than it’s probably acceptable to greet an old school friend. Fortunately, Alex proves to still be kind and lets Michael hold him, not commenting on the lingering hug, even though his own hands are now loose at Michael’s waist.

Knowing he can’t prolong the embrace any longer without making it weird, he tightens his hold one more second before pulling away without stepping back. This close, he can see Alex’s stupidly attractive face and commit to memory all the ways its change. Gone is the boyishness from years ago. At 28, Alex Manes is a man, and it shows. His features are more defined; the facial hair adds a ruggedness he didn’t have in their youth. There are faint laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth that makes Michael glad to see them. High school Alex didn’t laugh nearly as much as he should’ve, not when there were bullies at school and an even bigger bully at home, but as glad as it makes him to think of a happy Alex, it’s mixed with a sadness that he wasn’t the one there to make it happen. There is a small scar above his right eye, and he instantly wants to ask him about it as he touches it. He does neither and instead finally takes a step back.

“Hi,” he says once more, and he hopes his smile isn’t as lovesick as it feels, but he’s in front of his teenage crush, that he’s never completely gotten over, and his palms are sweating, his pulse racing.

Alex grins, his eyes flickering with laughter. “Hi, again,” he teases. “Long time no see, Guerin.”

Michael licks his lips nervously. “Ten years.”

Alex nods, still smiling easily at him as he takes back his seat. Michael hesitates for a moment, before deciding that sitting across Alex is too far. He grabs his carry on and rolls it to the seat next to Alex's. He says nothing, looking at him welcoming as Michael sits beside him.

"Where are you headed?" he asks as he tries to get comfortable.

Alex huffs out a laugh. "Roswell."

Michael raises an eyebrow at that. As far as he knows, Alex hasn't been back to Roswell since he left. Michael doesn't go back as often as Isobel would like, but he does go home when he has the time to get away from MIT. He always tries to ask Liz, who is dating Max these days or Maria DeLuca about him, and while he knows that they visit Alex. Alex does not come home, it's a simple fact.

"Yeah, I know," Alex laughs some more. "But you know Liz and Max Evans are together now, right?"

Michael nods, his brother managed to convince Liz to give him a chance when she moved back home over a year ago. He doesn't say that though, since as far as the world is concerned, he is just friends with the Evans twins and not related.

"Well, she's pregnant," Alex confesses, and Michael gestures once more. He knows that Max has been happy-slash-freaked-out about his future half-human, half-alien spawn. Luckily Max had told Liz their little green secret before they got pregnant, much to Isobel's displeasure. Michael’s too, even though he understood Max wanting to tell the love of his life the truth. He looks at Alex and feels a spasm; deep down, he knows that if he were ever to risk telling his secret to a human, it would always be Alex Manes.

It's not the least bit logical, but that doesn't make it any less true.

"Anyway," Alex continues, oblivious to Michael's heavy thoughts. "Liz wants Rosa there for moral support when she tells Arturo, and Rosa called me from California asking me to come for a visit because, and this is a direct quote: ‘if I have to go back to the desert punk, so do you.’" Alex rolls his eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "And knowing Rosa, if I had said no, she would have flown to New York just to drag me home, so I figured I should save myself the hassle and just cave to her demands, she's scary when she’s annoyed."

Michael smirks. "Rosa Ortecho is like 5'2," he teases him.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Alex looks at him, unimpressed. "Because I lived with her for six years before she got tired of the east coast winters, and decided to head to SoCal. She might be tiny, but her rage is giant."

Michael laughs, and it grows as Alex gives him the stink eye at his amusement. He's more than ready to continue to tease him when his phone starts ringing. Looking down, he cringes at the caller ID. He's surprised Isobel has waited this long to call him back and yell at him for ending their call. Alex tilts his head to sneak a peek at his phone, making a sound in his throat when he sees the contact name.

“That wouldn’t be Isobel Evans, would it?” Alex questions, making another noise like a laugh when Michael nods, his finger hovering over the answer button. “So, do you want to keep teasing me about being scared of Rosa?”

Michael looks over at him. “At least Isobel is taller,” he tells him, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at him. Alex grins at him in a way that tells him that while he didn’t give in to his urge, Alex knows it, nonetheless. He rolls his eyes and presses the call button.

“Yeah?”

“You hang up on me!” Isobel yells into the phone. “And then you answer yeah,” she says, mocking him. She is loud enough that Alex can hear her, making him cover his mouth to keep her from hearing his laughter.

“Something important came up,” he tells her, looking at Alex. His heart ticking up when Alex raises a teasing eyebrow at him as he points at himself.

“And what’s that?” she demands, loudly.

Michael stares at Alex, locking eyes with him.

Alex holds his gaze, his lips parting as he stares at Michael, and he can only imagine what Alex sees on his face. “A beautiful boy, I used to have a crush on back in high school,” he answers, his gut clenching when Alex lets out a soft sound, his eyes wide as he looks at Michael.

Isobel takes in a sharp breath. “You don’t mean- “

“Yep,” Michael tells her, smiling when she swears. Isobel is the only person who knows about his decade-long feelings for Alex, and he appreciates that she instantly understands the depth of the situation.

“This is literally the only reason I accept you hanging up on me,” she tells him after a moment. “I want details the second you get here, which will be soon, right?”

“They still have us waiting,” he says, looking away from Alex, who is still watching him, with a considering look on his face and over to the screen where it’s again flashing that his flight to Dallas is delayed. “But they haven’t canceled the flight yet, so here's hoping we know something soon.”

Isobel makes a noise of agreement. “Okay, keep me posted.”

“I will,” he assures her.

“Okay,” she says again. “Go get your boy, is he still emo?”

Michael looks over at Alex again, deliberately checking him out. “More of a rocker vibe.”

Alex’s lip twitches.

“Hot?” Isobel asks, pleased.

Michael licks his lips, pleased when Alex tracks the movement. “He was always hot,” he tells her, smirking as Alex shakes his head even as he smiles, and there is a gorgeous blush working its way over his cheeks. Isobel laughs in delight as she says goodbye.

Michael presses end to the call and waits for Alex to say something, anything. He doesn’t look upset that Michael was blatantly talking about him. The way Alex’s brown eyes seem to have darkened, the soft press of his teeth to his bottom lip, tells Michael that Alex isn’t indifferent to him at all. That sexual tension they had as kids is still there for him too.

“So it seems we have a lot to catch up on,” Alex finally speaks, standing up. Michael does the same. “And something tells me that it will be better over drinks,” Alex continues with a glint in his eyes that makes Michael’s stomach flip. “Bar?”

Michael grabs the handle of his carry on and steps closer to Alex, his skin buzzing from being near him and the way Alex looks at him now, so similar to years ago. “Lead the way.”

*

 They don’t say much as they walk away from their gate, nor as they sit at the bar, waiting for his beer and Alex’s jack-n-coke. It’s only after their drinks are placed in front of them that Alex seems ready to talk.

“I have a lot of questions,” he admits as he sips his drink. “Especially after that phone call with Isobel, but I’m not sure how to start.”

Michael thinks for a moment, smiling when an idea comes to him. “20 questions?”

Alex lights up at the suggestion, nodding in agreement with a sly grin.

“I’ll go first,” he says quickly, which earns him an indulgent look from Alex. “Where did you go after high school?” he asks. He knows snippets from his friends when they mention him, but it’s never enough for Michael, who has been longing to know everything about Alex for years.

“I went to New York with Rosa,” Alex starts, turning in his stool to look at him. He tells him about arriving in the city with his friend, sharing a shitty studio apartment with her, working even shittier jobs, while taking online courses. He tells Michael about Rosa getting clean with time and pure grit.

Two Roswell outcasts against the world Alex tells him, smiling the whole time, and Michael can tell that while it obviously wasn’t easy being broke teenagers in New York, he loved every moment of it. “I would play my music in dive bars, and then one day someone heard me and asked if I wanted to write music with them, and I have been doing it ever since.”

“A songwriter,” Michael says with a smile, and Alex returns it brightly.

“I never wanted to be a rock star,” Alex tells him, chuckling as he waves at his clothes. “Despite my appearance. I just wanted to write songs and hear other people play them. I get to do what I love and keep my life private.”

“That’s amazing, Alex,” he says, happy of him. He remembers how little Alex smiled, and now in less than an hour of being in his presence, Michael thinks he’s seen him smile more than all the time he knew him.

“Thanks,” Alex says softly, looking down at his hands as he plays with his rings. He looks back at Michael from under the pieces of hair that have fallen in his eyes. “Your turn, did you go to UNM?”

Michael nods, blushing when Alex gives him a huge smile. “UNM for my undergrad, and now I’m at MIT working on my doctoral in Mechanical Engineering.”

“Dr. Guerin,” Alex teases gently, his smile beautiful. “Damn, Guerin, I always knew you would do amazing things with that big brain of yours.”

It’s Michael's turn to feel bashful as Alex looks at him proudly.

“And Cambridge,” Alex continues casually. “That’s only a few hours drive from New York, to think we’ve been so close all this time.”

Michael turns to look at him; there is a hint of a smirk on Alex’s otherwise neutral expression. “Next question, anyone special in your life?”

Alex tsks him. “You asked the first question. It’s my turn.”

Michael shakes his head. “Nope, you asked me if I went to UNM, and I answered, so it’s my turn again.”

Alex narrows his eyes at him, the hint of a smile on his face. “You sneak. Fine. Is there anyone special in my life?”

Michael nods, licking his lips as he waits in anticipation, letting out a breath when Alex shakes his head.

“New York has been a fun playground for this gay boy,” Alex grins wickedly with the confidence of a man who has discovered his hotness and uses it to his advantage; it sends a spike of heat through Michael. “Much better than Roswell, where I was the only gay kid, that was out anyway,” he says, shooting Michael a loaded look, letting him know that Alex hasn’t forgotten his talk with Isobel. “But no one serious, guess I'm still looking for a boy to love me."

Michael swallows down on the overwhelming urge to scream, 'I volunteer as tribute' like he's Katniss-fucking-Everdeen.

"Your turn to ask a question," he says instead, and instantly feels his hands sweat as Alex turns even further in his seat to thoroughly look at Michael.

Michael does the same, and their knees bump as he turns in his stool. Alex spreads his legs to accommodate him, but all it does is draw Michael’s attention to the fact that Alex's pants are tight and that his parted legs emphasize that little fact. Hiding nothing, like the fact that he's pretty sure Alex isn't wearing underwear under his jeans. Michael feels a little light-headed.

"Did you really have a crush on me back in high school?"

Michael’s head snaps up from where he'd been staring, swallowing hard around nothing. The bravery he had felt when he made the comment earlier evaporating in the face of a direct question. But as he looks at Alex, there is no playful smirk, no teasing, just an honest look on his face with a hint of hopefulness, Michael finds his bravery again and nods.

Alex lets out a breath. "That night in the shed?"

Michael makes a face at the memory. "Instant regret. The second I turned my face, I knew I was an idiot.”

Alex shakes his head. "I freaked you out," he reasons away easily.

"How much I liked you freaked me out," Michael corrects him, feeling warm from the inside out as Alex gives him a sweet smile in return. "You leaned in, and I realized ‘oh shit I like a dude,’" he grins as Alex lets out a chuckle. "Had my gay panic, which turned into my bisexual awakening in the days that followed, but by the time I realized it, you were gone."

Alex’s expression is full of understanding, soft, and kind. "Missed opportunity."

Michael nods, swallowing before he continues with his confession. "You're the one that got away,” he says with an embarrassed chuckle. “I think about it all the time, that if I could do it over again, I wouldn't turn away."

There is a glint in Alex's dark eyes that seems to make them glow; the soft smile on his face is a little amused and pleased. He looks at him for a moment, and Michael holds his breath as he seems to come to a decision. Alex places his hands on Michael's knees, leaning into his space, only stopping when he's a few inches away from Michael.

"Do-over?" he whispers, and he's close enough that Michael can feel his breath touch his face.

Michael thinks for a moment, he must be dreaming, has to be, but he doesn’t question it, because if it is a dream. It’s a dream come true. He closes the space between them, taking Alex’s bottom lip between his. The kiss isn’t tentative like a usual first kiss. There is no uncertainty from either one of them as Alex reaches up, his hands finding their way to Michael’s hair, and Michael slides out of his seat to step in between Alex’s legs. He grips Alex’s thighs and pulls him closer, relishing the sound Alex makes at the back of his throat. He wants Alex to keep making those kinds of sounds; he wants to be the reason for them. They say reality is never as good as your imagination, but the people who say that have obviously never kissed Alex Manes.

His lips are softer than his wildest dreams, and his taste is instantly addictive, he’ll never need acetone again if he gets to keep kissing Alex.

Alex licks into his mouth, and it’s Michael’s turn to let out a noise. He can feel Alex smile into the kiss, so he gives Alex’s thighs a hard squeeze for his smugness, earning a stinging bite that Alex soothes away with a swipe of his hot tongue.

Alex breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away from him; if anything, he holds him closer, his fingers gripping in Michael’s curls. “Fuck, Guerin,” Alex gets out, his voice rough. “You kiss all the boys like that?”

Michael grins, giddy from having the boy of his dreams in his arms, looking at him with those brown eyes of his that always, always, laid Michael low. “Just you, darlin’.”

Alex gives him a growing smile. “Sweet talker,” he teases, his hands leave Michael’s hair, and he cradles Michael’s face between them. “When did you get so smooth?”

Michael laughs, happier than he’s been in a long time. He's more than ready to get back to it, nothing else matters than Alex's mouth, when a voice booms over the speakers.

‘Attention passengers of American Airlines flight 157 Denver to Dallas, has been canceled. Passengers, please report to your gate for further information.’

"That's us, isn't it?" Michael makes a face, already dreading yet another lecture from Isobel.

Alex copies him. "Yep," he says as he runs a hand through his hair, making Michael realize that he hasn't touched it yet. He wants to. He wants to see if it's as soft and silky as it looks. "Rosa is going to bitch me out. She wanted me home earlier in the week."

Michael smiles. "I have the same conversation to look forward to with Isobel."

Alex gives him a half-smile and stands, grabbing his bag and then Michael's hand. "Let's go see what the plan is before we deal with those two."

Michael nods, picking up his carry-on. They leave a tip for the bartender and head for the information desk, waiting their turn as the people before them are dealt with. The young man that greets them, does it with an apologetic smile that tells them he has been saying sorry to a lot of angry people. Given that its December 22nd, so close to Christmas, Michael can’t imagine people being happy with their flights canceled.

He tries to listen as the man tells them that the weather report is saying that the snow should stop by midnight and that their flight is rescheduled for 8:45 am the next day. He tunes out as more apologies are uttered in their direction. His focus is on the fact that Alex hasn’t let go of his hand, his thumb running back and forth over the webbing between his thumb and his index, and he tries to suppress a shiver caused by the calluses of Alex’s thumb over the thin skin. Alex turns in his direction, giving him a knowing smile. He knows Michael isn’t paying attention. But how can he pay attention when he’s actually standing next to Alex? Holding hands with him after finally kissing him like he’s dreamed about for the last ten years.

Alex is lucky he’s not plastered to his back, his arms around him, clinging to him as he presses his face to his neck the way he really wants to.

“We have a shuttle bus that will take you to the hotel,” the attendant tells them, and Michael snaps out of his frankly embarrassing fantasy of living the rest of his days like Alex’s backpack. “Again, we’re so sorry for the inconvenience, sirs.”

“Please stop apologizing, you can’t control the weather,” Alex tells the man with a sincere smile, and the attendant turns a shade of pink. Michael can almost see the heart eyes he gives Alex.

He frowns at the man even though he gets it. It’s pretty much his reaction to Alex, but that doesn’t mean he likes other people reacting the same, especially when he’s right next to him. He shifts closer to him, giving the attendant a look that silently says, ‘back the fuck off.’

The flight attendant clears his throat nervously, darting his eyes away from Alex, looking at Michael with apologetic acknowledgment.

“The van will be outside waiting for you,” he tells them quickly. “Have a good night, sirs.”

Alex tugs at his hand as he begins to walk away. “Let’s go, Guerin.”

Michael follows along quickly, more than okay with Alex pulling him along by the hand. They get into the airport van that is waiting for them, and Michael realizes that the information he missed out while busy fantasizing about Alex, is that the airport is setting them up with rooms for the night to make up for the cancellation. They get to the hotel ten minutes later, and it only takes them that long because of the snow. The hotel isn’t anything special, but they’re quick to check them in, obviously ready for the influx of stranded passengers, and they get handed their room keys, both on the fifth floor.

He walks with Alex down a narrow hallway, stopping in front of room 515. Alex opens his door before turning back to him, shifting from foot to foot.

“I need a hot shower before I get yelled at by Rosa,” he says with a wry smile, and Michael realizes with a warm fluttering feeling in his chest that Alex is as nervous as him.

It makes him smile softly, and he’s pleased by the way Alex's shoulders seem to loosen. “Same,” he tells him. “Iz will probably have a lot to say.”

Alex chuckles softly before placing his hand on Michael’s chest, curling it around his coat and reeling him in. Michael steps into his space, meeting Alex halfway, kissing him back as he presses his lips against his in a soft, gentle touch. They take their time, neither deepening the kiss, just enjoying the press of their lips against each other. “Do you want to come back when you’re done getting yelled at?” Alex asks quietly against his mouth.

He pulls back to look at Alex, flushed skin, his dark eyes that glisten with hope and desire.

The answer to the question is obvious.

“Yes.”

 *

 After a shower and a lengthy conversation with Isobel that jumps back and forth between lecturing him for not leaving Massachusetts sooner and demanding details about Alex, Michael is finally back at Alex’s door. He runs his hand over his damp curls and takes a deep breath before he knocks, waiting as he hears Alex move around in his room.

The door opens to reveal a freshly showered Alex in nothing but a pair of grey sweats that ride low on his hips. Michael tries hard not to swallow his tongue.

He shoots him a smile with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Rosa, he mouths, stepping away to let Michael in.

Michael walks into the room, grateful that Alex is distracted, it gives him a moment to take Alex in. His back to him, he hears Alex give a vague uh-huh to his friend, followed by a yep. He runs his eyes over Alex, lingering on the smooth skin over lean muscle, the dip of his waist, and the pair of dimples on his lower back that leaves Michael’s mouth dry. He itches to step up to Alex and press himself against the length of his back.

He doesn’t hold back on the impulse and does just that, stepping up behind Alex, relishing the gasp he lets out as his hands clench his hips, he rubs his nose against the side of Alex’s neck, making a sound at the back of his throat as he takes in the smell of soap and underneath that, a scent so uniquely Alex, a little sweet, hot and addictive.

“Time to hang up, darlin’,” he whispers against his ear, taking the lobe between his teeth, grinning around it as Alex lets out a halting goodbye to Rosa, ignoring her protests. He spins around, wrapping his arms around Michael’s neck.

“Menace,” he whispers, cutting Michael’s laugh short as he slams his mouth against his.

Michael groans, his hands tightening his hold on Alex, and he pulls him even closer, letting out another whining sound when Alex licks into his mouth. He runs his hands from Alex’s sides to his back, touching every piece of warm skin he can.

“Guerin,” Alex gasps for breath, his hands tugging at his shirt, and Michael lets go of Alex long enough to pull it over his head, dropping it on the floor. He stands still as Alex exhales a sharp breath, running his eyes over him in a way that feels like a touch. He wants more though, and when Alex’s hands hover hesitantly over his chest, he circles his wrists and gently presses them over his racing heart.

“You want this?” Alex asks, his hands caress his chest, a fingertip brushing against his hardened nipples, his body tightening at the sensation, and he swallows hard at the look Alex gives him in response.

“I have never wanted anything more,” he pauses, licking his lips nervously when Alex meets his eyes. “Then how much I have always wanted you,” he confesses, and it feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest when Alex gives him a gentle look that reflects the hope Michael knows is on his face.

Alex goes around him, and Michael turns around to watch Alex climb into the queen size bed. Laying back on a mess of pillows, he lifts his hand out to Michael.

“Come here,” he whispers, looking like all of Michael’s dreams come to life, and Michael doesn’t need to be told twice.

 *

 “Am I dreaming?” he whispers sometime later, his head on Alex’s chest, their legs intertwined under a sheet as they try to catch their breath. Their bodies are sweaty and sticky, but Michael doesn’t care, not when his body aches in the delightful way that only happens after a spectacular fuck.

Alex’s chest rumbles under his cheek as he laughs, his hand has been making a mess of his curls as he runs his fingers through them. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Michael grins into his skin, pressing a kiss into it, followed by a lick before he looks up at him. “Really?”

“Mmhmm,” Alex hums, wrapping his index finger around a curl, his nails scratch at Michael’s scalp softly, and he has to bite down on his lip to keep from purring. “I used to daydream about your hair.”

Michael raises an eyebrow at him. “That’s a lot more innocent than my daydreams; I’ll be real.”

Alex grins at him, tugging on a curl. “Well, I think you’ve proven by your earlier moves that you’re a dirty boy,” Alex jokes, and Michael throws him a smirk, proud as he remembers the way Alex gasped and begged when Michael rode him.

“I used to dream about it in Bio class,” Alex confesses. “You used to sit by the windows, and the light would hit your curls, making them glow. All I wanted was to sink my hands into them and play with them for hours.”

“That’s so sweet,” Michael teases to keep from melting on the spot, he’s already half in love with Alex, to know that Alex also thought of him back then, that he might feel some of what he’s feeling now, pretty much seals the deal on his feelings.

Alex gives a curl another tug, this one sharper, and Michael can't help the gasp that comes out. Alex stills his hand while Michael holds his breath.

"If we go another round, you're not going to sit comfortably on the plane in the morning," Alex warns him, heat flickering in Michael's belly from the promise in Alex's tone, and  Michael finds himself straddling Alex, feeling him harden under him.

"I couldn't care less," Michael says, grinding against Alex, a grin on his face when Alex lets out a curse and flips them over, his hand reaching for the small bottle of lube they used before.

"You asked for it,” Alex tells him. Michael would gloat about it, but as Alex touches him with wet fingers, pressing in, he finds himself without enough brain cells to be clever.

 *

 Michael isn’t sure if it’s that the airline is trying to keep them happy because of the canceled flight, or it’s just Alex’s smile that dazzles the flight attendant, leaving her powerless to his charm. But when they arrive at the airport for their morning flight, Alex asks if Michael can be bumped up to first class with him, and the flight attendant immediately upgrades him.

“That face of yours pretty much gets you whatever you want, doesn’t it?” he questions as they sit with their seat belts on, as the flight crew finishes going through their emergency procedures.

“I don’t know,” Alex says, turning his head to look at him. There is a sleepy look on his face, and Michael feels a sense of pride to think he wore him out. Their second round had turned into a third, and though Alex was right and he finds himself shifting in his seat to get comfortable, shooting Alex a look when he smirks, he can’t say he regrets it.  “Can I get anything I want from you?” he asks with a teasing look on his face.

“Probably,” he answers honestly.

Alex makes a sound, and Michael looks up at him, there is a look of surprise that turns soft. Alex takes his hand in his, running his thumb over the thin skin between his thumb and index finger. It makes Michael tremble.

“Sorry,” Alex murmurs, even as he doesn’t stop touching Michael. “Guitar calluses.”

“I don’t mind,” he answers, turning his hand palm side up so Alex can have more to touch.

“Do you still play?” Alex asks, studying his hand.

“Not as much as I would like,” Michael admits. Between work and classes, it doesn’t leave him much time. “When I do play, I think of you.”

Alex's hand stills over his, and he looks at Michael with big brown eyes that hold so much emotion. “You really mean that don’t you,” he whispers, leaning in closer, intertwining their fingers. “You still think about me.”

Michael breathes in, his heart pounding in his ears. A part of him worries that he’s coming on too strong. He’s had ten years to come to terms with the fact that he’s probably been half in love with Alex since he was a teenager. While Alex is just now realizing the torch Michael has been carrying. The other part of him though, the part that still can’t believe that he actually has Alex with him here and now. Can’t believe the night they just spent together isn’t a dream of his. That part is telling him that this is his second chance, and he needs to lay it all on the table if he’s going to have a shot at keeping Alex in his life this time around. “I always think about you, Alex.”

Shaking his head like he can’t believe it, Alex closes his eyes for a moment, but there is a smile on his face, and it gives Michal hope.

Opening his eyes, Alex looks at him in wonder, making Michael feel warm all over. “What do you think about?”

Michael raises an eyebrow at him with a smirk, laughing when Alex scoffs at him, though he sees a hint of a blush.

“Besides that, Guerin,” Alex rolls his eyes at him even as his mouth quirks upward.

He laughs softly, trailing off as Alex looks at him, waiting. “I think about your kindness,” he says quietly. “You gave me somewhere warm because I had nowhere to go. You gave me a guitar because you knew I liked to play, and you wanted to do something nice. You were kind to me for no reason.”

“I liked you,” Alex smiles sweetly, looking so much like the boy of years ago. “That was the reason.”

Michael squeezes his hand. "That was the first time someone gave me something that meant anything. I hated leaving it behind in the shed."

“You should have taken it,” Alex tells him with a soft smile. “I wanted you to have it; instead, it’s probably still in the shed collecting dust with all my other stuff. I know my dad had my brother Greg get rid of all my things inside the house, and instead, he put them in the shed. At least that’s what Greg told me the last time we spoke, but that was years ago, so maybe it’s all gone now.”

“You don’t talk to them, do you?” he questions, though given that Alex has never bothered to come back to Roswell, he probably knows the answer.

“My father is an abusive asshole who hates me for being gay,” Alex says matter of fact, there is no hurt in his voice like he came to terms with it a long time ago. “My older brothers follow his lead. Greg, who is two years older than me, is the only one who doesn’t care. He’s not supportive exactly, but he also doesn’t give a shit about me liking guys or the family drama. He went into the military like my other brothers, but it was to get away from everyone. We have that in common.”

Michael wants to put his arm around Alex; he wants to pull him closer and hold him until he eases the pain Alex carries from years of abuse and neglect. He hesitates for a moment, they’re on the plane, there are people around them, and maybe Alex doesn’t want his attention right now. After a moment, he decides what the hell. He pops off his seat belt, noticing that the light for it is off and moves to lift the armrest between them.

“What are you doing, Guerin?” Alex questions, frowning at him.

“I’m going to hug you,” he answers, ignoring the look Alex gives him.

“I’m fine,” Alex protests, while Michael shifts in his seat. “I’ve moved past the need for my father’s approval.”

“I know you’re fine, you’re great,” Michael assures him as he throws his arm around Alex’s shoulders and pulls him close. “You’re perfect, I just like touching you and don’t know if I’ll get to do this when we get to Roswell, so I’m taking advantage now.”

Alex scoffs halfheartedly, but indulges him anyway, and wraps his arms around Michael’s waist as he holds him. “You’re a lot more affectionate than I would have thought, but I like it,” he says, his words pressed against Michael’s jaw as he tilts his head. “And for the record, you can touch me all you want when we get to Roswell.”

Michael stills at the comment, and he tells his heart to calm the fuck down as it beats loudly. “Do you mean that?”

Alex, who has gotten as comfortable as you can on an airplane, first-class seats or not, lets out a hum as he uses Michael’s shoulder as a pillow. “Well,” he starts sleepily. “I guess this could just be a one night stand for you,” he pauses, and the hand at Michael’s waist gives him a soft squeeze. “But I’m going to take a leap of faith and say that’s not the case.”

“Leap away,” Michael says quickly, his pulse still racing.

Alex makes another noise like Michael has pleased and amused him with his quick response. He doesn’t say anything else and seems to be drifting off, but Michael can’t let the conversation go just yet.

“So just so I’m clear, this wasn’t a one night stand for you either, and it would be okay with you if I…” he trails off, not knowing how to continue.

He what? Touch Alex? Kiss Alex? Proclaim his undying love?

Alex huffs, and he lifts his head to look at him, he seems tired, but he leans in anyway and kisses him softly. He takes his time with it, only pulling back when they’re both breathless.

Michael exhales. “Yeah, that.”

Alex grins, his brown eyes dancing. “You sure you’re a genius, Guerin? Because you seem really slow on the uptake.”

Michael rolls his eyes, but can’t help the smile that has taken over his face. “Go to sleep smartass. I obviously wore you out, and it’s made you crabby. I’ll wake you up when we land in Dallas.”

Alex looks like he wants to give another retort, but, in the end, seems to decide that sleep has more appeal and lays his head back on Michael’s shoulder, doing as Michael tells him.

 *

 They land in  Roswell after a short layover in Dallas; hand in hand, they make their way to luggage claim. Alex has been quiet since the wheels of the plane touched the ground.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently.

“I think so,” Alex wrinkles his nose at him, and it’s so damn cute Michael wants to lean in and kiss it. “It’s just weird being back; that’s all.”

Michael nods, he’s already asked him if he has plans to see his family, which made Alex laugh dryly before giving him an emphatic no.

“Is anyone picking you up?” Alex asks once they both have their bags and start to make their way towards the exit.

“Isobel, what about you?”

Alex’s mouth curves. “Rosa.”

Michael nods again, feeling a trickle of worry grow the closer they make it to the outside world. The last 24 hours have felt like a magical little bubble where only he and Alex exist. Michael can’t help but worry that the magic is going to disappear the moment it’s no longer just the two of them. He thinks some of his thoughts must play out on his face because Alex, who has been watching him, stops in his tracks and turns to him.

“Hey,” he says quietly, brushing away one of Michael’s curls away from his face, his brown eyes warm as he looks at him.

“Hi,” Michael whispers back, taking a breath as Alex places his hands on his waist and tugs him forward.

Alex smiles, leaning in to rest his forehead against his.

“Tell that busy brain of yours to calm down,” Alex whispers, and Michael tries not to make a big deal out of the fact that Alex seems to be able to read him like a book. He taps his index finger against Michael’s temple. “Okay? I can hear it from here.”

Michael breathes out slowly, earning himself another smile from Alex as he nods, his forehead still pressed against his. Alex doesn't let him go, seemingly comfortable with staying there in his arms as much as Michael, and it settles his nerves some more.

As far as he's concerned, they can stay like this forever.

Isobel, though, seems to have a different plan.

"Jesus Christ, did you two really make us wait until the last minute to get here, just to stare at each other in an airport?"

Michael turns his head to find his sister and Rosa Ortecho standing side by side, watching them with various degrees of judgment and amusement on their faces.

Alex lets him go, much to Michael's displeasure, and holds out his arms for Rosa, who breaks out into a grin as she jumps into his arms.

"Hey punk," she says into Alex's shoulder as she and Alex hold each other tightly.

"Hi love," Alex greets back with a breathtaking smile on his face.

Isobel slaps his arm, drawing back his attention to her. "I haven't seen you in months. Are you going to hug me, or are you too busy staring at Alex like in high school?" Isobel asks bluntly, drawing the attention of the two friends who are still hugging.

Rosa smirks in his direction, while Alex gives him a soft look, the tiniest bit amused.

Michael can feel himself blush. It's one thing to tell Alex in private that he had feelings for him back in high school. It's another to have Isobel air his dirty laundry like this.

He glares at her but softens when he sees the happy look on her face.

"Brat," he murmurs with affection pulling her into a tight hug.

"Loser," she mocks as she returns the embrace. "Come on, we have to get back to the house. I have pies to finish."

Michael hesitates when she tugs at his sleeve. She looks back at him and then over at Alex, rolling her eyes at both of them.

"Oh for God sakes Michael, you're going to see him later. Hi, by the way, Manes," she says, finally seeming to remember her manners.

Alex shakes his head, laughing. "Hey, Evans, you haven't changed a bit, I see."

Isobel raises an eyebrow at the comment, taking it for the challenge it is. "While you seem to have finally gotten over your unfortunate emo phase, good for you."

"Ooh, fashion burn," Alex smirks, a glint in his eye.

Isobel stares at him harder, glares at him, really, but Michael can see the hint of a smile on her face. Isobel has always appreciated a worthy opponent.

She turns back to him. "If you could, please stop acting like you're saying goodbye to your beloved before sending him off to war. Max is in charge of the kitchen, so we have to go before he burns it down."

"Give me a second to say goodbye."

Isobel rolls her eyes again, but lets go of his arm.

Michael turns back to Alex, who looks like he's trying very hard to keep from laughing. He grins back, having decided to irritate Isobel some more.

"I'll wait for you, my love," he says with a dramatic sigh.

Alex bites down on his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. "Though the future is full of peril, know that I'll think of you every moment we're apart."

Rosa chuckles just as Isobel lets out a disgruntled huff, glaring at both of them. "Great, he’s just as annoying as you, Michael.”

Alex smirks, obviously pleased.

“Perfect match,” Michael says quietly, not caring that Rosa shakes her head in laughter or that Isobel makes a gagging noise like the brat she is. Alex is giving him a soft smile, and that’s all that matters in the end. “See you later?”

Alex nods, his hand grips the front of Michael’s shirt, tugging him forward for a soft kiss. “Go have dinner with your friends. We can do something for Christmas day, just the two of us, okay?”

Michael nods, pressing his mouth against Alex’s once more. “Okay.”

 *

 Michael wakes up Christmas day to voices outside his bedroom at Max’s, sighing when he sees that it’s only eight a.m. and his siblings are already up, even though they were awake past midnight.

Grabbing his phone, he checks his messages and smiles when he sees that Alex left him a text around one a.m. saying Merry Christmas. Pocketing his phone, he makes his way towards the living room where Isobel is sitting with a cup of coffee in hand while making Max hold up a series of shirts against his body.

“What’s going on?” he asks, leaning down to kiss the top of Isobel’s head, stealing her cup in the process.

She gives him a dirty look but lets him get away with it, nodding towards a frantic Max.

“Liz dropped the baby bomb on her dad last night and text Max this morning that Arturo wants him over at the diner for breakfast and a discussion. So now he’s trying to find a shirt that says, ‘I’m sorry I knocked up your daughter out of wedlock; please don’t shoot me,” she finished explaining with a frankly evil smile on her face at their brother’s predicament.

“Max,” he says sharply, drawing his attention when it looks like he’s going to start freaking out even more than he already is. “Arturo is not going to shoot you.”

Max lets out a relieved breath while Isobel pouts at him for ruining her fun, which he answers with a wink.

“The man is a cook,” he continues, not bothering to fight the grin on his face. “He’ll poison you before he shoots you,” he finishes, smirking as Isobel lets out a loud laugh, and Max gives him an annoyed look.

“Comforting and helpful as always, Michael, thank you,” Max bitches at him, while Isobel continues to laugh.

Michael tips his head in Max’s direction, chuckling when Max walks away, mumbling under his breath about horrible siblings.

His phone buzzes, and he pulls it out, to see a message, smiling when he sees it’s from Alex.

“Good morning. Liz told Arturo about the baby, and there’s a very awkward breakfast about to happen that  I don’t want to be here for. Want to meet up? I’ll bring coffee and donuts.”

He lets out an amused sound, shooting back a quick yes. Alex answers back just as quickly with an address and a heart emoji.

“Alex?” Isobel asks, startling him. He’d forgotten he wasn’t alone.

He looks up to find her studying him. “How did you know?” he questions, getting an eye-roll in return.

“Because you’re smiling like an idiot,” she answers dryly, a smirk on her face when he glares at her. “It’s the same face you used to make when you would stare at him in high school.”

“Stop,” Michael whines, knowing where this is already going because he’s heard Isobel give Max the same lecture about Liz.

Isobel raises her hands in peace. “I’m happy that you’re happy,” she starts, and he can hear the but in her voice. “I’m happy that you’re reconnecting with him and getting the chance you missed in high school.”

“But?” he says for her, wanting to get to the point.

“But,” Isobel emphasizes, narrowing her eyes at him. “You and Max are more alike than either of you would like, and you have been carrying a torch for this guy forever, just like Max with Liz. There’s the big alien elephant in the room, and you have to be careful if you want to pursue something serious with Alex.”

Michael remains quiet for a moment knowing that she has a point. He learned how to control his powers a long time ago, and he’s never been serious about anyone to feel the need to share his secret with them. If there’s anyone on this planet that he would think about sharing it with, it would be Alex Manes, and that’s something he has to take into consideration.

“At least I can’t knock him up as Max did with Liz,” he answers jokingly, feeling a chill go down his spine when Isobel gives him a downright evil-looking smile.

“So you think.”

 *

 Michael arrives at the address Alex gave him, realizing as he pulls up that it’s Alex’s childhood home, given what he knows about Alex’s family, he’s more than a little confused. But Alex is there, leaning against a car with a coffee in his hand, so he parks and gets out, crossing the street to join him.

“I can’t believe you still have your truck,” Alex comments as he closes the distance between them, passing him a coffee cup. “Donut?”

Michael shakes his head. “I’ll take something else that sweet though,” he says, pressing his tongue to the corner of his mouth, as Alex rolls his eyes.

“Smooth,” Alex says sarcastically, even as he leans in to kiss him.

“It worked,” Michael says, a smug grin on his face, kissing him once more before pulling back. “What are we doing here? I would think this is the last place you would visit,” he points at the house, as he downs half his coffee in one go.

“No one is here,” Alex tells him. “From what I understand, none of my brothers came home for the holidays, and when my dad heard I would be in town, he decided to stay on the base.”

“Okay,” Michael says slowly, drinking down the last bit of his coffee. “Still doesn’t explain why we’re here.”

Alex smiles, taking his now empty cup and putting it into a paper bag, throwing it back in his car. He takes Michael’s hand and starts to walk towards the house, or well, the back of it. Michael starts to get an idea where this is going as he sees the old shed come into view.

“We’re going to find your guitar,” Alex says as he pulls out a set of keys, opening an old lock that doesn’t seem like it has opened in years.

“Alex,” Michael says softly, touched by the gesture. Yet another thing he’s been sorry about all this time. Leaving that guitar behind.

“I gave it to you because I wanted you to have it,” Alex says, turning to face him. “Because I wanted to give you something that mattered to you. I want you to have it back.”

Michael looks at him and knows he’s falling in love. He realizes now that all this time, his regret and the feeling of missed opportunity with Alex has really been him being in love with him this whole time, and now, less than three days of having Alex back in his life, he’s falling in love all over again.

Isobel is right; he and Max are more alike than he thought.

Alex pushes the wooden door open, and they find that the shed is much more crowded than before.

Alex has a grim smile on his face as he looks around at all his stuff, and Michael hurts for him. It must be horrible to know that the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally is perfectly fine with getting rid or hiding everything you are away because they can’t accept you as you are.

He steps up behind Alex and wraps his arms around him, pressing his face into his neck. He can feel Alex’s tense body start to loosen the longer he holds him. Finally, after another minute or two, Alex lets out a breath, turning around in his arms to face him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against Michael’s.

Michael doesn’t say anything right away, he runs his hands up and down Alex’s back, only stopping when Alex pulls back, his expression more at peace.

“You know since we’re here,” he starts, grinning when Alex raises an eyebrow at his tone. His heart racing as he continues. “And this is the place of my greatest regret. Maybe we can recreate the moment so I can correct it.

Alex stares at him, the corners of his mouth lifting, and he leans in again, stopping halfway, his eyes sparkling with laughter and something else as he waits Michael out.

Michael exhales right before he covers Alex’s mouth with his. He’s already kissed Alex so many times, felt his body against his as they made love.

But being back in this place where it all started. It feels like what he thinks that first kiss would have felt like if he hadn’t turned his face. He pours all the feelings he had back then, all the feelings he’s had for the last ten years, and all the feelings he has now into the kiss, and hopes Alex understands how serious he is about them and just how much he wants this.

He’s so lost in the feel and taste of Alex, in this feeling that is bursting inside him, he doesn’t notice anything else and finds himself jumping when the door to the shed slams open.

Alex jerks back and Michael feels him freeze as he looks over his shoulder, his face paling at who he finds there.

Michael knows who it is without even turning but finds himself flinching when Alex speaks with fear in his voice.

“Dad…” Alex says quietly, stepping around Michael.

Michael turns around, and seeing the Master Sergeant’s face, he gets why Alex is standing protectively in front of him. The anger and disgust on the man’s face are like nothing he’s ever seen, even in all the years he spent in the foster care system, and he can admit that it sends a trickle of fear down his spine.

“How dare you,” Jesse Manes seethes, eyes full of fury locked on Alex.

Michael sees the hate there; it makes his stomach turn to think Alex grew up with this. “How dare you disrespect me with your perverted behavior-“

Alex sighs loudly, standing taller. “Here we go with your usual bullshit. This isn’t about you. We came for my guitar and then we’ll be out of your hair. Away with our perverted behavior,” Alex says mockingly, and Michael realizes too late it’s the wrong tone to take.

Faster than he thinks possible, Jesse crosses the room, his hand tight around Alex’s neck, slamming him into a beam in the middle of the shed. It’s obvious that Alex is caught off guard as much as him, his eyes wide as he tries futilely to push his father off him.

“You think you can talk to me like that!” Jesse shouts, his face red with rage. “You run away from home, from your obligations to this family, to live your disgusting lifestyle and then think you can come back and mouth off to me. I’ll teach you who is still in charge here.”

Jesse’s threat snaps him out of his shock, and he steps forward, trying to pull Jesse off Alex. Only for the man to shove him hard before going back to choke Alex, who is still trying to pull his father’s hand off his throat.

He hasn’t lost control in years, but Michael doesn’t think about it. All he sees is this monster who is hurting the person he loves, and in the next instant, Jesse is flying, slamming hard against a wall of the shed before slumping forward, knocked out from the impact.

Alex gasps for breath, hands on his knees as he coughs, his eyes wide as he stares at his motionless father. Michael is also breathing hard, a little lightheaded from the burst of energy he just used.

Still staring at his dad, Alex whispers. “Did you do that?”

Michael can feel his heart racing; it’s been so long since he’s felt this kind of fear.

“Michael?” Alex asks softly now, looking at him, and Michael feels like he could start crying because Alex doesn’t seem afraid of him. Shocked by the events of the last 10 minutes and a little apprehensive, but not scared.

“Yes,” he whispers.

Alex might not be scared, but Michael is terrified.

“How?” Alex asks with wonderment.

Michael runs a hand through his hair nervously. “Look, I know you have a lot of questions, and I swear I’ll answer them. But right now, we need to deal with your dad.”

Alex looks like he wants to argue but finally nods. “What do we do?”

Michael sighs, he knows who he has to call, and he hates that he has to involve her. Turning to Alex, he pulls out his phone. “I need you to trust me, Alex.”

“I do,” Alex says instantly, not realizing the relief his words give Michael.

Michael closes the space between them, slowly reaching for him, waiting for Alex to step back if he needs to, letting out the breath he’s been holding when he touches Alex, and he doesn’t flinch away. “Thank you.”

 *

 To say that Isobel is furious when she arrives is an understatement, she has a glint in her eye that tells him she’s seriously considering making his brain explode as the three of them stand in Jesse Manes’ bedroom, the man still unconscious on the bed after he and Alex got him into the house.

“I am going to kill you,” Isobel hisses, ignoring the worried look Alex sends her way.

“I know,” he answers, knowing there is a real possibility his sister might make good on her threat. “But right now, I need you to go into this asshole’s mind and make him forget everything that happened in the shed.”

“And what exactly did happened in the shed?” she questions, still furious.

“Michael and I were kissing,” Alex starts, not flinching when Isobel turns her glare onto him. “My dad came in; he attacked me and probably would have killed me since he rather have a dead son than a gay one. Michael saved me, using his powers.”

Isobel turns back to Michael, eyes flashing. “You told him.”

Michael opens his mouth, but Alex beats him to the punch again.

“Not yet,” he says, his tone clear that a conversation will be had. “But my dad did go flying across the room. So I’m guessing Michael can move things with his mind?” Alex finishes looking at him to confirm, a pleased smile on his face when Michael nods.

“You’re taking this very calmly,” Isobel says suspiciously, eyes narrowed as she studies Alex.

Alex lets out a laugh that sounds a little on the hysterical side. “I’m freaking the fuck out. Michael can move things with his mind. You apparently can make people forget things? And my father tried to choke me out, but…”

“But?” Isobel asks a little calmer, her expression softening as Alex mentions his father’s actions again.

“Michael would never hurt me,” Alex answers her with conviction, and if it weren’t for the very serious mess they have to clean up, he would pull Alex in his arms and kiss him.

“Great,” Isobel murmurs. “Like it wasn’t enough to deal with one brother’s epic romance, I now have to deal with two. Fine. Alex, does your father drink?”

Alex snorts. “Yeah, he’s a functioning alcoholic.”

“Lovely,” she says, staring down at the man with disgust. “You find a bottle of something strong. I’m going to make him believe that he came home and went on a bender. He won’t remember anything about the shed.”

Alex hesitates for a moment before leaving the room. Michael watches him go before turning to his sister.

“I’m not happy with this,” she starts.

Michael nods. “I know.”

“And Max is going to lose his shit,” she continues and he nods again.

She studies him in that way that always makes him think she’s reading his mind.

“But he has no leg to stand on,” she says after a moment. “He told Liz our secret too, and I like her, but I like Alex a little more.”

Michael can’t help but smile at that.

She looks at him, and there is a soft understanding look on her face. “I would have done the same if I loved someone as much as you love him.”

Michael swallows audibly, grateful for his sister; she smiles before turning back to Jesse with a calculating look.

“Now, to deal with this piece of shit and make sure he never puts a hand on Alex again.”

 *

 Max loses his shit and then some. Michael sits on his brother’s couch with Isobel, who is still nursing a headache from all the power she used, acetone bottle in her hand, and Liz, who has a hand on his shoulder, frowning at her boyfriend as he paces.

“How could you let this happen, Michael?” Max asks for the third time since he and Isobel got back.

Alex, much to Michael’s displeasure, had stayed behind to make sure there was no trace left of them. Michael only agreed to go since he needed to get a weak Isobel back home.

He opens his mouth to argue with Max, but it’s Liz who has slowly looked more and more irritated who jumps in.

“What exactly did you want Michael to do, Max?” she questions, her brown eyes narrowed, and Michael watches as Max looks back at her nervously. “Just stand back and let Alex’s father attack him?”

“Liz,” Max tries helplessly in the face of his girl’s anger.

“I, for one, am grateful Michael stepped in,” Liz continues, ignoring his pleading tone. “He saved Alex, who I might remind you since you seem to have forgotten, is one of my best friends.”

Michael catches Isobel’s eye, spotting a tiny smirk, as Max tries to appease an angry pregnant girlfriend.

“Liz, of course I’m happy Alex is okay,” Max tries, sighing loudly when he’s met with blank expressions from all three of them. “But now, Alex knows our secret, and we have to decide as a group what we are going to do about it.”

“You mean like when you told Liz our secret,” Isobel interrupts, shooting Liz an apologetic look that Liz waves away, she knows this argument already. “We didn’t decide that as a group, you just told her.”

“That’s different!” Max argues. “I’ve loved Liz since high school.”

Michael rolls his eyes at his brother’s cluelessness, noticing he’s not the only one, as Isobel and Liz do the same. It makes Michael blush to realize that his future sister-in-law might have been aware of his feelings all along.

“Him too,” Liz says, confirming his suspicions.

“What? What do you mean?” Max asks, confused, looking over at him, making Michael sigh yet again.

“She means that you’re not the only one that’s been pining away for ten years,” Michael tells him, shooting the women in the room a glance when they look at him proud and a little amused at his confession, but he continues. “I’ve been in love with Alex since high school. So before you even suggest it, no, we’re not wiping his memory.”

Max stares at him; after a moment, his already wide eyes get bigger as he looks past him.

Michael turns in his seat to see what has drawn his attention, understanding the look on Max’s face when he takes in Alex standing by the doorway.

“Hi,” he says hesitantly as all four of them look at him, he seems to shake off his nervousness after a moment and gives them an unimpressed look. “You should really close your front door if you’re going to talk about your magic powers.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment before Isobel starts laughing. “I like you Manes, you know how to make an entrance, and I can appreciate that,” she says toasting him with her bottle of acetone before taking a drink that has Alex raising an eyebrow.

Liz gets up from the couch and crosses the room to her friend, pulling him into a hug.

“Are you okay?” he hears her asking Alex.

Alex nods, his focus on Michael as Liz checks him over, her hands touching his neck where there are some faint marks.

“I’m fine,” he tells the room. “I’ll be even better after Michael and I have that conversation he promised,” he finishes looking at him expectantly.

Michael stands up.

“Michael, I don’t think-” Max tries, quieting down when Liz and Isobel send him a quelling look.

“It’s not up to you, Max,” Michael tells his brother softly but firmly. Max looks at him, at Alex, and then finally at the two women in the room before letting out a sigh, nodding in acceptance.

“Okay, Michael.”

Flashing him a grateful smile, he turns to Alex, walking over to him as he watches him steadily. Liz squeezes Alex’s arm in solidarity before stepping away from them.

Standing in front of him, he holds out his hand, letting out a breath when Alex doesn’t hesitate to hold it. “Let’s go for a ride.”

 *

 They don’t speak as they drive to the desert, and Michael admires Alex’s restraint. If it were him, he knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back. It’s only when Michael has parked his truck outside the entrance of the caves that Alex finally speaks.

“I heard you tell Max that you’re not erasing my memory,” he says easily, like talking about mind control is as normal as commenting on the weather. “So, I don’t think you brought me out to the desert to get rid of me either, but let me just say this is shady as fuck.”

Michael can’t help the soft laugh that passes his lips as he takes in the quirk of Alex’s mouth as he jokes, even though he catches the hesitation in Alex’s voice.

“You heard us, huh,” he says, getting a nod from Alex.

“Among other things,” Alex says meaningfully, and Michael swallows, remembering what he said about being in love with Alex.

“I meant that,” he says quietly, watching as Alex takes in a sharp breath.

“Michael,” he breathes, but Michael holds up a hand to stop him.

“Before we get to that, I promised an explanation,” he says, opening the door. Alex follows suit and gets out of the truck too.

“And I think the easiest way to do that is to show you,” he says, pointing at the caves. “If you trust me.”

Alex answers his question by slipping his hand in his, and Michael thinks there isn’t going to be a moment where he doesn’t keep falling in love with him.

Hand in hand, Michael guides him inside the cave; he knows the moment Alex spots the pods by the gasp he lets out. His hand slips from Michael’s as he takes a step forward. Michael stays behind, letting Alex step up close to them.

“We came down in the 1947 crash,” Michael starts, pointing at the pods as Alex looks back at him, his mouth dropping. “We stayed in these pods, in stasis until 1997 when we came out. Seven years old and no idea how we got here.”

Alex continues to look at him. “The three of you were found naked on the road,” he says like he remembers the story told throughout the years.

Michael nods, confirming his words. “We were put into a group home, none of us spoke, but after a few weeks Isobel and Max learned, and soon the Evans came and adopted them. I stayed behind.”

Alex gives him a pained look but stays quiet, letting him continue.

“I bounced around from foster home to foster home until I was brought back to Roswell when I was 11, reuniting with my brother and sister.”

Alex lets out a sound. “They’re your siblings?���

“Yeah,” Michael swallows around the lump of hurt he always carries from not being able to tell people that.

“And you’re,” Alex pauses, looking back at the pods in awe. “Aliens?”

Michael looks at him, the man he loves, who isn’t running away screaming yet. “Yes.”

Alex looks back at him, his head tilted to the side as he considers him. Finally, like Michael hasn’t just told him the craziest thing anyone has ever heard, he simply nods. “Okay.”

Michael knows the look on his face is incredulous because it can’t be that easy. There is no way it’s this simple. “Okay? That’s all you have to say? You don’t have questions?” he asks, his voice getting higher and maybe even a little hysterical.

Alex bites down on his lip, and Michael gets the distinct impression that he’s trying not to laugh at him.

“I have a million questions that we’ll get to later if you answer the most important one,” Alex starts, walking back towards him until he’s right in front of Michael, so close that their bodies touch.

“And what’s that?” Michael asks, gazing into Alex’s brown eyes, lost in their depth.

“Have you really loved me all this time?” Alex asks, his voice small and low like he can’t speak the words out loud.

Michael raises his hand, cupping Alex's jaw, his thumb going over Alex’s cheekbone, and he watches as Alex leans into the touch like he’s starved for it. Michael promises himself that if Alex lets him, he’s going to touch and love him every day. “I thought it was a crush, a missed opportunity that I couldn’t let go. But being with you, having you back in my life these last few days have shown me that I have been fooling myself.”

Alex grips his hips, pulling him in closer, and with eyes opened, presses his forehead against Michael’s.

“I love you, I’ve always loved you,” Michael whispers, his heart catching when he hears the laugh-sob Alex lets out before he kisses him. The kiss is salty from their tears, but it’s okay because Michael can feel Alex’s smile against his lips.

 One year later

 “I can’t believe you assholes are doing this again,” Isobel complains over the phone. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. You two should be here by now.”

Michael rolls his eyes, Isobel has said the same thing three times now. He feels the top of his body shake, and he looks down at the man on top of him as he laughs silently.

Alex looks up from where he’s resting his head on Michael’s chest and grins at him, with eyes full of laughter. Michael narrows his eyes at him. He doesn’t understand why he should be the only one getting yelled at when it’s just as much Alex’s fault.

“I told you to turn off your phone like I did,” Alex says softly, smirking as he hears Isobel rant some more through the speaker about how they are going to miss Christmas and how hard she’s worked to make it special since it’s the baby’s first.

“Michael, are you even listening to me, or are you staring at your boyfriend?”

“No to the first, yes to the second,” he answers, biting down on his lip when Isobel screeches over the phone.

Alex rolls his eyes, holding out his hand for Michael to pass him the phone, which Michael gladly does, pouting when Alex presses the speaker button. So much for letting him out of the conversation.

“Isobel,” Alex starts. “They’ve cleared the snow, and we already got news from the airline that our flight is in a couple of hours, we’ll be in Roswell by tonight, which I would like to remind you is the 23rd.”

“If you hadn’t stopped in Denver again, you’d be here already,” Isobel states, not ready to give up the argument.

“We wanted to celebrate our first anniversary in the place we reconnected,” Michael argues, closing his eyes when Alex runs his hand down his side to calm him down.

Isobel makes a disgruntled noise over the phone. “I’m disgusted by your love,” she says, annoyed. “Aren’t you over the honeymoon phase already? You’ve been living together for almost ten months now since Alex moved to Boston to live with you. You’re so annoying.”

Michael opens his mouth, but Alex presses his hand against it, shaking his head at him as a wicked smile takes over his face.

“How’s the Wild Pony, Isobel?” Alex asks unexpectedly, his smile growing when Isobel makes a startled sound.

“How should I know?” Isobel shoots back quickly, and Michael raises an eyebrow at that. Alex just continues to smile like the cat that ate the canary.

“A little bird told me, you’ve been hanging around those parts,” Alex continues, every word full of innuendo. “In the bar and the apartment above.”

Michael's eyes widen as he realizes what Alex is alluding to.

“Holy shit! You and DeLuca, Iz?”

Alex's grin is so wide, Michael thinks his cheeks must hurt.

Isobel is quiet only for a moment. “I will melt your brain, Manes,” she hisses into the phone, and proving that his superpower is to be unafraid of Isobel, Alex laughs easily. “I will melt it into goo.”

“Sure you will,” Alex answers mockingly, and Michael shakes his head at the recklessness. But this is the way Alex and Isobel have been since he and Alex started dating. He’s pretty sure they’re nemesis and each other’s best friends. “Listen, I have your brother naked in the hotel room we first got together in, and three hours until we have to get to the airport. So I’m going to hang up now, and have my wicked way with his delicious body,” he finishes, chuckling as Isobel lets out a disgusted sound.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Alex says, still laughing, but the sincerity is evident, and it calms Isobel down.

“Jerk,” she mutters after a moment. “Fine, text me when you're in Dallas to make sure your flight is on time.”

“Will do.”

“By the way, what you had shipped got here yesterday.”

Alex smiles. “Perfect, thanks Isobel. See you in a couple of hours,” he says, hanging up the phone.

“What did you have shipped?” Michael questions, his hands going to Alex’s hips as he throws a leg over Michael’s waist.

“Your Christmas present,” Alex answers him, leaning down for a kiss.

Michael hums into it. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”

Alex shakes his head, his lips a hair-breath away from Michael’s. “Nope.”

“Not even a hint?”

Alex gets a look on his face that promises a good time. “Tell you what, you have until we have to get to the airport to get it out of me.”

Michael feels his body respond to the challenge and knows Alex feels it against his thigh by the smirk on his face.

Rolling them over, he gets to work, smothering Alex’s laughter that later turns to moans with his kisses.

He doesn’t get it out of him, but he has fun trying.

A day later, when they’re with their family, he holds Alex’s present in his hand. A beautiful guitar, so similar to the one Alex tried to give him years ago. When Alex leans in halfway, his eyes full of love, Michael doesn’t miss his moment, and this time presses his lips against his.