#sorry this reread is taking so long it is SO hard to read i need breaks lmfaooo

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

oughhhhhhhhh i’m reading the knight!sugu fic again……………………………. maybe . i’ve already hit my peak

[cicadagaze]

thunder what the fuck are you talking about, no the fuck he did not

[letstrip-teamblue]

Treat you like a lady

• Your boyfriend doesn’t pay enough attention to you. Chris doesn’t like that.

• This is extremely cheesy!! That’s just how I am. Contains smut.

• Word count: 2,031

Sunday

Today is a weekend like any other; you’re lounging on the triplets’ couch.

The tv is playing as background noise. Chris is on his laptop working on new Fresh Love designs while you lay next to him scrolling pinterest. You've known each other long enough that you can enjoy each other's company without forcing conversation. Simply being around him allows you to relax, and vice versa. You can’t find that with many people.

A sex scene causes the pair of you to look up. You exchange looks and chuckle like teenagers at it.

Chris breaks the awkward silence.

“Is it actually that good or is she playing it up?”

“Don’t know.” I shrug and go back to my phone.

I can see Chris’s brows furrow from my peripheral vision.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve never had a guy go down on me before.”

“What?”

You look up from your phone.

“…What.” You echo.

“No, what do you mean you’ve never had head before? You have a boyfriend. You’ve had a boyfriend for 3 months.”

Your cheeks get warm.

Think of a way to brush this off.

“It’s not a big deal. Not everyone’s into that.”

He seems stunned, gaze focused on his sneakers.

“... Do you do it for him?”

A sigh leaves your lips, “Chris-”

“No, listen to me. If he’s not reciprocating then the problem clearly isn't that he's uncomfortable. It's that he's selfish.”

Who does Chris think he is that he can judge your love life?

“This is none of your business.” You scoff.

“I think I should go.” You stand up and grab your bag.

Chris doesn’t give up yet.

“Okay, forget about that part for a second. When’s the last time he took you out? When's the last time he surprised you?”

You're struggling to swallow down a still-beating heart. You're avoiding eye contact with an angry version of one of your closest friends, and you’re trying to block out the possibility that what he's saying could be true.

“I’ll see you later, Chris.”

7:00 pm

Chris: I'm sorry. I overstepped earlier. just think you deserve better.

You read and reread the message. Typing out a reply and deleting it. Maybe what you need is space. You put your phone on do not disturb and crawl under the covers.

Trying to distance yourself from Chris would prove to be a waste of time because you end up having a dream about him.

“Hey gorgeous” a voice whispers in your ear.

It sounds familiar but there’s no one else with you in this room, so you can’t match the voice with a face. Whoever it’s coming from, their voice sounds like silk.

You're twisting your head around to try and find the source. Whoever’s in here with you finds that amusing because laughter follows.

“I'm over here, goof.”

It’s him. He walks over to you with a smile on his face and those big blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you asked

“I just missed you.” he says as he grabs your hand and twirls you around.

1:12 am

Well, that’s a first.

Monday

Chris opened the front door.

“Hey, I’m so glad you wanted to come over.” He said smiling.

Your face however wasn’t as cheerful.

“Yeah about that,”

You cleared your throat and walked inside.

“I think we should spend a little time apart. Like a refresh.”

His expression dropped instantly. You can’t keep eye contact. It’s too hard.

“What?”

“It’s not personal, it’s-”

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Chris , this is my relationship, stay out of it.” You say sternly.

“How can I when you’re all I think about?”

The air in the room gets thick.

“What?”

“I mean,” He scrunched his eyes and rubs his forehead. Flipping through the pages of his brain for the right words.

“I could treat you better than him.”

You laugh, “What are you talking about?”

He slowly brings his hand up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know it’s true.”

He takes a step toward me, his breath on my cheeks.

“I can make you feel good.”

You involuntarily gulped, which caused him to smirk. He tries to hide it.

Your mouth moves but no sound emits from it. You feel paralyzed.

He must be bluffing… right?

“Let me show you.” he whispered, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You don’t know exactly when he stepped closer but your noses are now touching.

I need to stop this.

“I have a boyfriend.” You say in a meek voice.

Chris very lightly put his right hand on your stomach. You can feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt.

“Does he make you nervous like I do?”

Chris' eyes fall to your lips.

“If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”

Shit.

Soft, pink lips touch yours. You don’t kiss back but don’t run away either. Just wanting to take in the dimensions and texture of his lips. He starts to pull back.

Wait, don’t go anywhere.

You press your lips forward, chasing him.

It makes him smile into the kiss, which in turn makes you smile. The weird sensation causes you both to start laughing.

He straightens up.

“I wanna be with you too. Wo don’t know why I was ever with him in the first place.”

Chris can’t contain his smile. He covers his mouth.

“Sorry. I know I should be more… apologetic? I guess? But I’m not. I want you all to myself.”

“Yes, you've made that quite clear.”

You pull Chris back in for a kiss by his hoodie, it makes his insides stir. He places both his hands on the sides of your face, deepening the kiss.

You pull back for air.

“I should go tell him it’s over before things go any further.”

“Ok.”

But Chris goes right back to kissing you. Sliding his thumb across your cheek.

It’s so dreamy. You have to will yourself to stop.

“Ok I’m serious this time!” You chuckle. “Can I come back tonight?”

“I’d really like that.”

4:15 pm

Me: just left his house. whew.

Chris: im proud of u and so grateful.

6:00pm

“How long have you liked me?”

“Almost our entire friendship. I don’t think I realize it until you started dating Andrew.”

Laying on Chris’s chest is the happiest you’ve felt in months. You two have been talking about all the things that made you fall for each other. He’s been rubbing your back for the past 20 minutes but decides to put his hand under your shirt to enhance the feeling.

You sighed and relaxed even more on top of him, closing your eyes.

“Damn, you have some knots right here.”

“Ugh, yeah. That’s where I carry stress.”

“Here, lay on your stomach. I bet I can relieve it.”

Chris moves so you can lay flat. Once you’re comfortable he straddles your hips and brings his hand to the hem of your shirt.

“Is it ok if I bring this up?”

“Mhm.”

He lifts your shirt to where your bra starts ,then gets to work.

Maybe it’s the skin to skin contact, or the fact that your muscles were tense, but his hands feel heavenly. You can’t help but let out a string of sighs.

“That feeling good?”

“Yes, oh my god. Thank you so much.”

He chuckles. “Anything for my girl.”

After a few minutes of the same motions he decides to explore new territory.

He rubs his hands over your hips, your ribs, and now your thighs.

“Seems like there’s a lot of heat coming from your legs, baby.”

“You’re such a good massager it’s hardly my fault.” You tease back.

You try to close your legs together but he doesn’t like that. Keeping a hand right between them.

He brings his mouth right next to your ear. Lowering his voice.

“Do you need relief somewhere else, baby?”

While he talks he maneuvers his hand so it’s nearly flat against your clothed center.

You try to keep it together. You can’t already be at a loss for words.

You nod into his pillow.

“Turn over for me. Let me see that pretty face.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately as you position yourself on your back. The two of you make eye contact and any anxiety you had about intimacy with Chris is gone.

“We can stop whenever you want.” He says before kissing you.

“Let me show you how a real man behaves.”

He smirks and lowers himself to your stomach. Kissing your happy trail. Leaving tiny bites.

Since you’re wearing sweats he slides them off in seconds, taking your underwear with them. He tosses them over his shoulder and they hit some things in his dresser, causing them to fall. It makes you giggle but Chris is entranced by the sight before him.

“Jesus Christ.” He says to himself.

He runs his nose where your leg meets your hip. Kissing further and further. Creating a puddle before he even touches you. He licks your inner thighs. Painting them with purple marks.

Finally, his mouth is where you crave it. He’s apprehensive at first but once you let out your first moan it’s all over for him.

Chris sucks your clit and your mind goes blank. Nothing ever felt like this before.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”

When he goes back down he licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy to your clit.

Your back arches off the bed.

“That’s it.” he says into my skin.

He’s lapping at your folds like it’s water and he’s been in a drought. Grabbing onto your thighs to make sure you don’t go anywhere. Not that you'd want to, but his actions do cause quite a bit of squirming.

“God, you’re everything.”

It almost seemed like he was saying it to himself. Like he couldn’t believe youre real.

“Next time you want something done right, come to me.”

“Fuck yes.” You moan.

When he lifts his face up again, your juices are dripping down to his neck. You’re so mesmerized by the sight you don’t register what he's saying. It just sounds like white noise.

Chris tsks.

“Looks like I fucked you dumb, huh? Poor thing.”

“Shut up.”

You push his face back down. He starts fucking you with his tongue.

“Yes ma’am.”

Jesus

Your thighs tighten around his neck, he squeezes them back as a response.

“You taste so sweet, baby. Like syrup.”

You can’t do anything more than whimper and grind into his face.

Chris grabbed the hand that was clenching the bedsheets and guided it to his hair. You happily thread your fingers through.

He touches you like you're all he asked god for. The sounds coming from you are his favorite song. This is the alchemy he does.

“Oh god,” your voice goes up an octave.

“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Please, so close.”

“Cmon, be a good girl and cum on my face.”

He made you a whimpering mess. Arousal dripping down your legs, down his lips, on the sheets. Chris continues to reach his tongue deep inside you while drawing figure eights on your clit.

In an instant your vision goes black.

The next minute was spent shaking and catching your breath. Goosebumps littered all over my body.

You don’t know when but at some point Chris must’ve turned you so you were laying on your side. He pulled a lightweight blanket over you and was now playing with your hair.

“Hey pretty girl.” He said softly as you opened your eyes.

“Hi”

“You did so well for me.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t move.”

He quickly wet a washcloth and grabbed a water bottle.

You could drift off to sleep at any moment, but Chris made sure to clean you up first.

It felt nice to be taken care of for once. He made sure you were warm enough. every few minutes he laid kisses on your face. You were too tired to say anything but he could see how happy you were. That was enough for him

[luveline]

darling darling jade-y!!! I saw your post about semi specific requests that you like to write and I thought I’d combine two of the things I saw on there ❤️

for asf!Fred, very possibly maybe reader gets a serious concussion and Fred has worries about how the brain fog may affect readers tendencies to dissociate or that the confusion might further upset her? Just general, mutual hurt comfort where everyone’s worries are put at ease in the end ❤️❤️

I love coming back to your blog almost everyday and always finding something delicious to read no matter if i’m reading something new or rereading a fav!! Sorry this was a bit long but I love to sing people’s praises!! Have a looovely day or night ❤️

thank you for your request lovely! 💌 —Fred takes care of you when you can’t look after yourself, but he finds it hard to ignore how your actions mimic the past. 2k, fem

cw mental health issues

“It’s alright. Hold my hand.”

Fred puts his hand out for you in the middle of George and Angelina’s living room. Your eyes shine with hurt, so odd to see when no one’s said anything cruel, and you won’t take it. You’re stuck where you’re standing.

“Go on, sweetheart, take my hand. It’s okay. I’m just gonna help you.”

You put your hand up gently. Fred takes the hint and twines his hand through yours, tickled by the slowness of your fingers curling over the backs of his knuckles. “Thank you,” he says, taking a guiding step to the sofa. “Come on. Let’s sit down.”

You walk. Fred takes your shoulders into his hands when you’re close enough and holds you to his chest as he shakes out the pillows behind you, making room for you to sit comfortably. “Okay, sit down, my girl. There you go.” He grins at you. “Brilliant. How do you feel, are you okay?”

You stare at him. Your despondency makes him feel sick, but he swallows it down. He bends at the waist to meet your eyes with nothing but patience and fondness. “Y/N,” he says slowly, reaching for your knee. “Do you need to go to bed?”

“No.”

“No. Alright, I’m going to get your drink, and see if George is finished with dinner, okay? I’m not going far.”

You give him a look you’ve employed many times since you got hurt, like you can’t work out why he’s acting strangely, or perhaps why you’re acting strangely. Fred pulls your hand to his mouth for a kiss, barely a kiss, more like he’s pressing the entirety of your hand to his lips.

“Love you,” you say.

“I love you,” he says into your hand. “Okay? I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“I know, I know, I just don’t want you to worry.”

He encourages your shoulders back to have you flush to the sofa and sends you a wink as he goes. You almost laugh, teeth peeking out as you smile at him, the happiest you’ve looked for at least the last two days. Your brain fog is persistent and bothersome, to put it lightly.

Fred heads into the kitchen where George is plating a large baking tray of pasta into four dishes, two of which he’s set atop the microwave.

“Hey,” George says, “I’ve got two for now and two for tomorrow, just in case.”

Fred doesn’t know how to say thank you, so he doesn’t. If Fred weren’t in love with you in a way that’s changed his entire being, George would still look after you, because you’re one of his best friends, and he’s yours. But Fred does love you, and George knows that, and to be taken care of by his brother while you recover is a privilege he won’t take lightly.

“Don’t worry about it, Forge. I think mums got a lasagna with our names on it waiting in her fridge…” Fred leans against the wall by the door frame and covers his eyes. He’d been joking, and now suddenly he feels sick again.

“You okay?” George asks.

Fred holds out his hand, as if to say, Don’t ask me. Don’t ask and don’t come near me. He doesn’t think that boys don’t cry, but he just hates being this person who can’t keep it together. You need to be looked after by someone who’s fully present while you’re disassociative. Fred needs to be that person, but it’s just so hard seeing you like this again.

“I feel like–” He swallows nothing, meeting George’s waiting gaze with a weak smile. “Feel like she’s that scared lonely girl again and there’s nothing I can do to make it up to her.”

George puts the empty pan on the back burner. He tosses dirty spoons and forks into the sink, and wipes his hands on a tea towel pensively. “It’s a brutal mix of symptoms,” he says finally, his voice straining. “But she’ll get better again.”

Post concussive symptoms are about as bad as it comes, and they can last for months. Not just weeks. Among the more manageable, such as dizziness, high blood pressure, and fatigue, are the worst Fred could imagine for you in particular —cognitive dissonance, memory loss, brain fog, anxiety, and depression. Even if you recover from each of your physical symptoms, it’s not uncommon for people who sustain a brain injury to remain depressed.

You’re already sick. Fred loves you and he doesn’t mind, doesn’t care, not a single thing will change for him, but you’re not well, and this head injury could send you into a tailspin.

“I forgot what she looks like when she’s hopeless,” Fred says. “I really did.”

“She’s not hopeless, Freddie, she’s hurt. Her head will get better, and she’ll get better too, because she has us to make sure of it.” George puts a plate of pasta onto a wooden tray with a knife and fork. “I’m… you know, I’m worried too.”

“Yeah.”

“I have Parmesan cheese and stuff in the fridge.”

“It’s okay. I’m gonna take hers in first.”

“You have to eat.”

“I know, I will. She might take some convincing, is all.”

It’s not as though Fred thought you were going to walk away from your concussion without consequence. It was an awful injury, his heart has never pounded that fast or that hard in his life, but he didn’t expect the symptoms of what you’re experiencing now to coincide as heavily as they do with your worst struggles.

You're teary eyed on the sofa, pressing yourself back into the apex of the arm and the cushions. It’s another symptom with multiple causes; Fred has found you crying because you were confused, and aching, and without explanation. It can happen and be finished within a few seconds.

“Hi, lovely girl. I have your dinner.”

“What is it?” you ask, sniffing.

Fred remembers the days in his last year of school where you’d been hungry enough to shake but not willing to eat. You didn’t know then and you can’t know now the sort of pain it is to watch a friend not be able to feed themselves without extreme effort, and Fred wouldn't want that for you, but it’s why he can’t explain his relief to you that you still have your appetite.

He sits down next to you and puts the tray on your lap, tentative at first to touch you in case he puts you off eating, then greedy with his hands as you eat a big first mouthful, and a second. You’re not uncoordinated despite the doctor's warnings. The dissonance seems to come before decision making for you, and this decision is firmly made.

You’re hungry so you’re eating.

Fred had to beg yesterday for you to eat. Hands on your legs, tone dropped into the most dulcet it’s ever been, asking, “Just one thing, can you do that for me? A piece of toast, lovely.”

That’s why you’re here. Fred can’t take care of you alone, he’s found. It’s almost fitting that you should need both of them again, even if Fred wishes you didn’t.

He knows it’s saccharine. Patronising, even, but he gives your arm a light squeeze. “Good girl,” he says quietly, relief palpable. “How is that? Is it nice? Don’t tell me all the trouble we had yesterday is because you don’t like my cooking.”

“Felt sick all day,” you say, scratching your bowl with the tines of your fork.

“I know. Do you feel less sick right now?” He cups your face as you nod shyly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t mind. I’m just kidding. George made you another plate to take home, anyways, so you won't suffer again.”

Your laugh is more breath than voice, but you turn your cheek into his hand before he can pull it away. There’s a connection in your gaze he hasn’t seen for a while. “You’re worrying.”

“I’m fine.”

You put your tray in his lap, and his heart sinks thinking you’re finished already, you’d eaten a few good spoonfuls but not enough to make up for days of pickiness. Your arm slides behind his. “I’m sorry you’re upset,” you say, pressing your cheek to his arm in a cuddle. “You can tell me anything.”

“I’m fine,” he says, rubbing his nose against your head.

“It’s okay, lovely.”

He blinks back tears. “No, I know it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“You can have mine. I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Can’t we share it?” he asks. He thinks you might be lying. In your confusion, you’ve taken his upset to be rooted in hunger. “Please?”

“It’s nice,” you say, like you’re agreeing, picking up your fork again to eat from his lap.

Fred breathes out a sigh. If he could, he would wrap you up in a hug so tight it makes you both click.

You offer him a forkful. He eats it and doesn’t comment on the way it taps against his teeth.

“I think I have that pain again,” you say, poking at pasta shells.

“Yeah? In the back of your head?”

“Like a thrumming.”

“I’ll get your painkillers.”

“I’m about to go get them,” George says, carrying a second tray, a soft smile on his face as he puts it on the coffee table. “I can read your mind, ghost.”

“What am I thinking now?” you ask.

“It’s nice to be with your best friends, duh,” he says, turning around again to retrieve your painkillers.

You turn to Fred without saying anything, eye to eye, nearly not quite smiling. You abandon your fork again to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, hiding. Fred closes his eyes, his arm curved eagerly behind your back. “Don’t knock the tray,” he mumbles, letting out a deep breath.

“You’re making me feel sick,” you say.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault, right? It’s always my fault.”

“No, no, lovely, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s my fault,” you mumble. “There’s something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect to me, you always will be. You’re just not very well today, that’s all it is.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, nearing hurting now, your voice strangled. “I’m sorry, Fred.”

“Ghost, it’s okay.” He shoves the tray from his lap. He can clean up any mess, but this is urgent. You slouch into the space he makes. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s not your fault, and it wouldn’t matter if it was. There’s nothing wrong with you that won’t get better.”

“I don’t like feeling like this.”

Fred collects himself. He can’t panic right now, as much as he wants to. “It’s not forever,” he says, letting his hand run down your back to the base of your spine, “I promise, it’ll start to feel better. I’m not going anywhere until it does, and even then you can’t get rid of me. When was the last time you managed that?”

“I don’t want to get rid of you,” you mumble.

His hand seems to be working. The massaging of his thumb against the base of your spine calms you down. “I don’t want you to,” he says, nudging at your face with hide nose until he can kiss your cheek. “Mm?” he hums, lips sliding against the corner of your mouth. “Just me and you forever, yeah? You can’t be alone when you have me.”

[whoreforred]

Needs

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha had a very long week and needs to wind down with the help of a friend.

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding (N), praise kink, bottom!natasha, FWB

AN: This is my first fic!!! Also not a veteran on tumblr so the format could be weird im trying ok!!

The light from your bed-side lamp cascaded over the book you were reading. After a long week you always put some time aside to read so you could clear your head, even if it was at 2am. It was the best time to get lost in a book. The compound was nearly dead silent with only the sounds of light rain pinging on your window. Though you had been reading the book for a few hours now, you caught your mind drifting away from the pages and onto a certain red head.

You and Natasha's relationship was quite simple. If one of you had an itch to scratch, the other would scratch it. This sort of mutual understanding had been going on for quite some time now.

You kept trying to keep your eyes on the page and the books scenery in your mind, but the story kept slipping away. You reread the same page over and over trying to push your urges away, and just as you were about to give up your phone vibrated.

You looked off into the distance and a small smirk ran across your lips as you knew no one else but Natasha would text you at this hour.

You grabbed your phone and saw the message,

I need you.

You couldn't help but smile a little bit. It's like you and Natasha's bodies were in tune with one another.

You adjusted your boxers a bit as the text seemed to send some heat down to your core. It had been over a week since the last time the 'benefits' part of your friendship came into play. Even so you had hardly seen her besides a few passing glances at meetings. You knew it was because Fury had her on several cases that required a lot of paperwork, and no matter how many times you told Natasha to stand up for herself and set boundaries on the amount of work she could take, she never did.

You typed back,

the door is unlocked

You set your phone back down on the nightstand and let the anticipation set in.

You relaxed back into the leather of your chair and hoped she would be at your door sooner rather than later. But in the meantime you picked your book back up to pretend you were still following along.

Only a handful of minutes later the door to your room opened slowly and in stepped an exhausted assassin. She didn't make eye contact with you as she shut the door quietly and stayed there with her hand on the doorknob, lingering.

Just as you were about to ask her what she was doing she turned around and locked eyes with you. Those green eyes conveyed a very deep lust that you could read immediately. However, you didn't fail to notice her heavy eye bags.

You broke the gaze as your eyes traveled over her body and took in her figure. All she was wearing was an oversized flannel, barely buttoned up, with a pair of underwear. You nearly went slack jawed as you locked eyes with her yet again and she made her way over to you.

She gingerly took the book out of your hands, folded the page you were on so you wouldn't lose your place, and set it next to your phone.

She slowly climbed onto your lap and set her hands on your shoulders as she kept eye contact. Your hands found their way onto her hips and you gently squeezed.

At a near whisper, she said "I'm sorry I'm so needy", and at that your face screwed up in disbelief.

Your hands kneaded into her thighs and you lowly replied "don't ever apologize for having needs, Natalia." She pulled her bottom lip in slightly and finally broke eye contact to look down. You caressed her cheek and she looked back at you with hooded eyes. You closed the distance between the two of you to ghost your lips over hers. Her breath hitched at the intimacy. Just as you noticed her shallow breathing she closed the distance and kissed you hard. Her lips danced with yours and you inhaled her vanilla scent, wishing she had come to you sooner.

The pace remained slow and sensual as your hands traveled up her back and began to trace all of her muscles. Natasha felt something deep inside her begin to churn with every kiss from you. She had not seen you all week because of the mountains of paperwork, mission planning, and training she had to do. She needed a release. Bad. But she kept the pace slow, deep, romantic even, as she didn't have the energy to do much else.

Her hands began exploring your chest and she subconsciously began to grind into your lap. Both you and Natasha groaned into each others mouths at the sensation.

One of your hands came up to start unbuttoning her top while she moved down to your neck. Once she found your pulse point, she began to suck and a throaty groan left your mouth.

You pushed her back a little so you could remove her shirt. You slid it off her divine figure and discarded it to the floor. Her supple breasts were on full display for you and she leaned closer so you could touch. You kissed up the valley between her breasts and then up her throat as your hands finally found their way to her nubs. She let her head fall back and kept grinding into you as you left open mouthed kissed along her collarbone and your hands continued exploring her chest.

She moved slightly so that she was straddling only one of your legs, and when she began grinding you could feel just how wet she was.

"Miss me that much, Nat?" You said, smirking into her neck at the feeling of her coating your thigh.

"You have no idea", she purred as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

You held onto her lower back with one hand, the other lightly massaging her thigh. You ran your thumb over a scar, memorizing its texture and ridges. She moved to hide her head in your neck as she started to really grind her hips against you.

You placed kisses on her shoulder and used your hand on her back to guide her into you.

"That's it Nat, good girl" you growled into her ear.

She moaned loud at the praise and felt an immediate surge to her core. You knew what she liked to hear better than anybody.

Her movements picked up again and you knew she was approaching her release as her grip tightened around your neck, fingers intertwined with your hair.

She let out little moans at every thrust and you moved your arms around her mid to keep her from falling over. As you bear hugged her you turned your head towards her face to see the look of bliss she was wearing.

With her eyes screwed tight and her mouth agape she went silent but her movements continued, and this is when you knew she was right at the edge.

You whispered, "Come for me, detka."

At that her legs began to convulse as she let out a pornographic moan. You felt her juices release onto your leg and held her close as she rode out her high. You smiled to yourself and kissed her cheek while her breathing began to slow back to a steady pace.

Once she had completely come down and her movements totally stilled, you observed the sweat covering her body and tried to pull her hair away from her face. You rubbed her back as she cooled down from her endeavors.

After a few minutes you felt her shiver and that's when you picked her up and carried her over to your bed. As you laid her down she didn't make any protests and instead silently got under the covers. You got a rag to clean her up and helped her into a shirt she had left over a few weeks ago. She sunk back into the bed and let sleep take over her.

As you lay next to her you wondered the direction your relationship would go to and whether or not it would ever be serious. You didn't go a day without thinking of her beautiful red hair and forest green eyes. But for now you were content with leaving your door unlocked for her.

[lokorum]

what would you say is your favorite jonmichael fic..... im very curious and love to reread anything in that tag

oh but how can i pick only one when they all are so good??? (,,•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ,,)?

aaaaaa can i make the several honorable mentions of the fics that made me scream and roll on the floor?????? pretty please???

scheherazade was one of the first jonmichael fics that i found while going through all of the cher's works because, evidently, they have no fics that are not worth reading!! (i'm sorry if and forty feet down only confirming it!!!)

sleep inertia has one of the best dialogues i ever read!!! the way cruelzy writes michael's lines??? aaaaaaaaa its so delicious and believable and never for a second i thought i'm reading something out of canon?? its just that good. 

carousel is the only one fic (from what i found) that i set in the last season and its adds a lot of layers to that big jonmichael onion that torments my eyes for a while now ldkfjgkdfjg also it's messy?? i mean the whole situation in the fic?? its so humanly complicated and it does not gives you the chance to experience any of the feelings clearly and i love it!! screechfox somehow captured all of the complicated stuff in one fic, blendered it together and for the whole time i just couldn't take my eyes away from it. 

five times michael saves jon's life and one time he doesn't have to - is here to sooth our pain and heal our wounds. i reread it so many times!! the dynamic between jon and michael in it is one to live for!!! sometimes you think 5+1 kind of fics can't surprise you anymore and then the coolest author like paisleycowboys enters the room and proves you wrong. 

to be like super honest, the 100 ways to say i love you series, when i first saw it, made me think im not gonna like it? i love my fanfics long and scary and bittersweet and with a bad-very-not-good-endings, so the title of this one made me go "hmmmmm HMMMMM hmmmmm hmmmm?" but ive started to read it anyway, theres not that many fics on the ao3 for jonmichael, we cant afford to be capricious and gosh GOSH i was so fucking wrong!!! its sweet AND sad AND scary AND awkward (in a best way!!!) AND it made me giggle so many times!!! NeedsCaffeineRightNow can make even the edgiest of us enjoy the soft kinds of fics (its not hard when they are written with so much care and love.)

POSSESSIVE!! MICHAEL!! COMBING!!! JON'S!! HAIR!!!!!! what else do we need from life?

transition, every time i reread it or think about it, makes me painfully aware of how many things should coincide for something to work. it's not one of those fics that completely encompass you; nor its the one that leaves you with new headcanons or in a good mood, no, i think it's the one that leaves you in dissoray, making you want to argue with author, to ask them what were they thinking about, pointing on your weak sides like this?, giving you something precious and then stealing it away? pushing your old bruises? that is to say, i have nothing but deep respect for indefensibleselfindulgence. to write fic that makes you want to engage in conversation? thats powerful 

Our 'Angel' of Static and Bone is written so inexplicably good, that more than once i wondered, how NeverwinterThistle was able to do it? and then i realised they are one of my fave bg3 and dishonored authors phpphp but really, the care, the effort that went into this fic? they are literally visible! you can feel the amount of time and brain juice that went into writing it. and the neighbor character? they appeared like two times?? and still their addition left me speechless with how clever it is, how different!! absolutely amazing work.

adjective noun has jonmichael chapter (11) that destroyed me as a person i swear i laughed so hard i dropped my phone and just kept giggling face-into-the-pillow style!!!!!! its rare for the fics to bring you this childish kind of pure joy; the little in-between moment of forgetting about everything, good and bad, and just have a good time. this chapter is definitely one of those rare things and it also made me wish there would be more jonmichael fics from cuttoth. somehow they nailed everything that should be nailed about this ship and did it in a couple of pages, what a magical work!! 

and well, now here's my fave fic, the one that took my head, shaked it like it's a soda can, and then left it open, fountaining at first and then dented and empty. 

I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying is the work that made me grateful for the fact that i know how to read in english. its....mmmm, you know that feeling when fic makes you go through literally everything? and then, as a bonus, through all stages of grief as well?

first you get hooked up by the beautiful writing style and so you know the fic is gonna be good and you get comfortable and you turn yourself off from the rest of the world and you read. 

you love pov, you love mood shifts, you love pacing, you love when scenes are short and you pause to think about what happened / you love when scenes are long and you get overloaded with the simple things that make you feel complicated emotions, you love it all. 

then you start to wish it would never finish; you look at the scrolling bar from time to time, a little bit too aware of how much there's left to read, a little bit too anxious about it. and at the same time, the fic starts to make you feel safe, confident, that at least it's gonna be alright, its gonna be that one work that will replace the canon events for you. it was the

“Oh. Oh, Archivist, no. That’s not right at all,” you say to yourself as you watch him march into artefact storage, both hands clamped around an axe. 

On a whim, you decide to save him."

line for me for sure uhhh it still hits as good as the first time too 

and then you get to the ending and you just stare at the screen. that hollowing feeling slowly spreading inside you. *sigh* its the best sort of inspiration im sure, but its the worse one too. i have no idea how possessedradios and authors like them are able to write something that kills you, then reanimates you and then makes you sit in front of the tablet drawing hours non stop. ''I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying" is so beautiful its scares and fascinates me, just like the podcast did. hell, better then the podcast did.  i know its silly but i even named my fisrt fanart of michael as the title of the fic 👉👈

ahhhh SO i rumbled again SORRY!!!!!!! every time someone asks something from me its either "i'll reply later" (replies 10 years after) or "tolstoy, hold my fucking beer". but i really hope that fic writers, not only those who are mentioned here but like in general? know how much they affect other people!! how their work creates safe spaces for others!! how they make readers smile or cry, even if those readers (im not pointing finger on myself idk what you talking about pgphpphph) are little gremlins that leaving comments once in a decade....................

have fun time reading!! <3

btw im working on a little fanart rn............. (expressing my deepest grattitude to ao3 johmichael writers 😳🔪)

[chxrryhxrt]

To Mordor and back - Eddie Munson x Female Reader Part 2

Read part 1 here!

Synopsis: You and Eddie’s anniversary is approaching, and you call upon Steve Harrington to assist you in planning it. However, when you’re seen spending too much time with him, how will Eddie deal with it?

Warnings: angst, swearing, emotionally constipated Eddie (but he gets over it) and fluff

Part two is finally done!!!!! Talk about a long wait (2 whole years 😭😭) I really hope you enjoy!

Eddie’s eyes flickered over the letter, his fingers still tightly grasping onto it. With each reread, understanding washed over him and he felt as if he was experiencing the five stages of goddamn idiocy in real time.

In this moment, thousands of thoughts were flying through his mind: ‘Have I ruined it? Is she okay? Will she ever forgive me?’ What stood out to him however, more than anything, was the faintly familiar feeling of paralysis. Feet melded with the ground and his eyebrows furrowed as he gripped onto the roots of his hair and tugged, willing his body to do something – anything.

He had not felt this way in a long time, not since he was seven, young and small, not yet wise to the give and take of the world. Now, as he stood there beside the mailbox, Eddie remembered. He remembered his father standing tall above him, with not so much as a frown on his face; he remembered wanting nothing more than to see his mum again.

He supposed it was strange, the way that new heartbreak can reignite old heartbreak, because in this moment all he wanted was to see his mum again, and he wanted her to be waiting by her side.  

Finally, a coherent thought surfaced – he was going to fix this.

Legs broke free from their confines, and he found himself racing inside, paying no heed to the mess he had made last night in the depths of his misery. There was a metallic jingling as he scooped his keys off the kitchen counter, and a scratching as he wrote Wayne a note on the back of a receipt.

It read: ‘Be back soon. Super sorry about the mess, will clean later!’

His van pulled up outside your house, screeching loudly as it parked. Despite this, it still managed to be a less obnoxious arrival than usual, as no metal music erupted from the radio, the only sound being his laboured breaths as he clambered out of the driver’s seat and headed to your door.

In his frenzied state, he had forgone shoes and was yet to change out of the clothes he haphazardly threw on earlier this morning. Hence, rather than hurrying down the cobbled pathway, he found himself hobbling, his socked feet carrying him as fast as they could given the insistent jabbing sensation on his soles.

Eventually, having reached the front of your house with his feet still intact, he rang the doorbell.

He waited, admittedly rather impatiently, for a couple of minutes before deciding to ring again.

Having concluded that there was no movement within the house, Eddie wondered if perhaps the bell was broken, so he knocked, the hard sound of knuckles against wood echoing throughout the door.

This time, when no lights flicked on and no silhouettes moved behind the curtained windowpanes, he decided to scout around the sides of your house.

Had he not been so desperate to speak with you, he might have cared more about how creepy he looked, pushing the gate to your garden open and peering into every window he came across.

At one point, he contemplated pushing his head in through the cat flap, but quickly decided against it as visions of getting himself stuck flooded his imagination.

After the long night yesterday and the subsequent late wake up, Eddie found that it was already beginning to pass into evening. Having ascertained that nobody was at home, he thought it best to leave. Although he needed frantically to see you, he was in an enough improved headspace to know that if you came home to find him lurking in your backyard it would not help his case.

 

The drive back to the trailer park was even than the quieter than the ride to your house had been - just Eddie and his thoughts.

He was almost done with the journey, the tarmac laid out in front of him and the turning for his road on the right. He intended on trying his luck again tomorrow, his hopes of ever reconciling this stupid stupid miscommunication with you plummeting.

His palms sweated, loosening his grip on the steering wheel as he swerved indecisively, half a mind set on turning right to go home, the other half wanting to drive aimlessly for a little while longer.

Having now missed his opportunity to head back to the trailer, he set his sight firmly on street, watching as smaller roads peeled off and the tyres span on cars ahead of him. He saw a flock of birds dip down from the skyline, a backdrop of orange silhouetting them. Then, he noticed a sign ahead for Lover’s Lake.

He pulled onto the dirt path; bated breath exhaled, glad to have something to do – other than sitting and letting his worries brew into a storm.

Stones and pebbles crunched beneath the van as he parked up, pulled the keys out of ignition and hopped out of his seat. He began to round the vehicle, grimacing at the many scuffs littering the bodywork, hurriedly looking away and pretending he had not noticed them. This was his philosophy for most things – if he never acknowledged the damage, it did not need to be repaired. He simply lacked the cash to spend on these sorts of things.

He passed through the wall of trees lining the lake, taking in the view. It helped, being out in nature. At least until he noticed someone sitting by the shore.

Eddie had not really considered this. Lover’s Lake had been a frequent date spot for the two of you in the early days of your relationship, but he truly did not expect to see you there, toes dipped in the water.

Not quite sure what to do with himself, he shuffled over to you and clunkily sat himself down, in true, awkward Eddie style, frightening you in the process.

As your eyes looked up at him now, their normal colour was muddied by a sheen of tears, which in turn, made his own well up.

Today he had spent much time thinking, and there was one thing he could not help but realise. His behaviour last night had been undeniably reminiscent of his father - the man he swore to never become. Now, as he perched beside you, he realised something else. In this moment he had the chance to change that, to do something his father never had. Feel.

With that, Eddie tugged you into his arms and before you could tell him off, attempt to remind him that you were not currently on good terms, you felt tears soaking into your collarbone where he had nestled his head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, body shaking with each sob, “I’m so so sorry, you don’t understand.”

You brought your palm up to the back of his head and reciprocated the embrace.

“You didn’t do anything wrong Eddie, I shouldn’t have been sneaking around,” you reassured, voice matching his, soft in cadence.

“No-“ he pulled away from you now, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt- “you were just trying to do something nice, I should’ve trusted you.” He looked you in the eyes, before correcting himself. “I do trust you.”

Your mouth curved up as you smiled, “Do you think we could just call this whole thing over? Maybe?” Your pupils raked over him, overjoyed to see him again. “Like, just go back to how things were before this whole Steve thing?”

Eddie nodded, wild hair bouncing around. He sidled up to you, resting his head on your shoulder again, watching the lake glimmer under the sunset.

You let your own head drop down now, balanced atop of his own.

Your fingers interlaced and a sound broke the silence as you giggled, “Might I ask why you aren’t wearing shoes?”

Tags:

@ali-r3n @ziggeddie @halfburntout @wypascalis @wildaces @lokiscure @justforeddiemunson @korelily

some of you asked to be tagged in part two wayyyyy back when i posted part one in 2022, i wasn’t sure whether to tag you now or not but i just thought why not! i hope you all enjoyed it and thank you so much for supporting me!! 🩷🩷

[illicien]

What drew you to winterbaron as a ship? What kind of content do you read? Is it different from the kind of content you write? Would you like to rec a few winterbaron works? My friend is into the ship and I'm trying to see if it's something I might like but all the fics they've recked me are kind of the same in tone so I'm looking for others opinions for some variety.

Hmm! I've sort of answered some of this in the past so sorry to my moots getting this rehash.

A friend of mine dragged me into WinterBaron (kicking and screaming!!!) rather simply, actually, though what kept me here was the more grand implications of her simple origins. I'm kind of a sucker for a true power bottom, and fanart my friend kept sending me implied the fandom saw Zemo as such, and I was at least a little bit intrigued there. Enough to take a deeper look, at least.

The better discovery wasn't that the fandom had decided he was a power bottom, but that there was a strong push and pull of power in their dynamic. Bucky has all the physical power between them, it's a big thing, he's strong as hell. On the other hand, Zemo is just a guy, and yet despite that Bucky should logically have all the power between them, Zemo's intelligence and knowledge tend to leave him with an edge. That continues to be the fascinating concept about Zemo to me, but that's a different matter.

So for me, it's the manipulation, the push and pull of power, it's Bucky trying to break free of being the Winter Soldier and Zemo trying to decide if Bucky's just like every other super soldier. But it's also about understanding that Zemo knows Bucky in ways most people alive don't. He knows and understands Bucky's history as the Winter Soldier both through his research, and as a man who did horrific things on behalf of his country. And that thought can sometimes lead to softer moments of understanding, I think, that can be enjoyable in fic.

As for content I read vs write: I generally gravitate towards dark fic with these two, though there's plenty of really good stuff that isn't. There are some excellent explorations of kink in the fandom for them which is refreshing. I don't really write them as dark as I read them, since I enjoy writing the power dynamics more than the overt manipulation, but if you're looking for more tonal variety I'm sure I can make some recommendations! (Under the cut!)

** Please make sure you read all of the tags thoroughly. What I enjoy in fiction may not be to your taste, and I respect that, but the best I can do is to link to the site with the tags. 💜

Recs (under 20k words)

Just A Little More by @six-demon-bag epitomizes a lot of what I've said above, and if I didn't start out with it on the list here I'd be doing myself a disservice for how often I reread this.

Bucky goes into a painful rut and Zemo seizes the opportunity to sink newer, more subtle hooks into him.

Breathless by @zsparz is one I like to return to whenever I'm looking to feel sad but don't have a lot of time to read. I can't explain why this one hits me so hard but holy smokes does it make me weepy. Sparz is great at making me cry, though, so like - anyway.

The water kept rising. Bucky could hold his breath a long time underwater, and he remembered vividly how he’d acquired that knowledge. Sam might find him in time.

But Zemo would be long dead by then.

Past Indiscretions by @sagegarnish makes me laugh, genuinely. The whole idea of it brings me a lot of joy, and the execution is delightful.

Bucky and Zemo are trapped in 1941.

Unfortunately Bucky's past self is the only one who might know where the missing Pym Particles are that they need to get home.

When young!Bucky pulls Zemo into an alley, Bucky is forced to watch as a drunken forgotten night from his past becomes a lot clearer.

Recs (20k+ words)

That Which You Fear by @spintwinwb is a trilogy that starts off feeling like an AU and turns into something really fascinating imo. Lots of extra goodies here for comics fans, too.

Instead of freeing the people of Westview, Wanda pushed out across multiverses to get her brother back, and the entire world was caught in the crossfire. Cast in a new, peaceful life in upstate New York in a world with mutants, no Avengers, and no HYDRA, Bucky Barnes struggles to reconcile memories and dreams that no longer make sense with what he thinks he knows about himself.

One Two Many by @six-demon-bag is sweet and fun and complicated, and I really did try not to double-up on authors here but agh. What am I supposed to do??

Bucky and Zemo meet on an anonymous dating app and find a deep connection in each other. In the meantime, they grow closer in person without realizing they’re falling in love online too.

Too Good To Be True by AnadoraBlack is really one of those fics where the tropes are used so well, imo. A very enjoyable read.

Bucky wakes up with no recollection of where he is, how he found himself there, and what the heck is going on. There's also a ring on his finger, and time lost. What the living FUCK?!

The Original Sin by @zsparz because I might as well completely fail at the "only one per author" in spectacular fashion. This sits here because it sits on a very peculiar line between canon and AU and just... like I said. Sparz makes me cry. This isn't a departure from that fact.

Bucky and Zemo keep meeting over the course of several lifetimes. Zemo remembers everything. Bucky doesn’t, but there’s an eerie impression of familiarity he can’t shake — an old pain he can’t explain, with roots too deep for him to reach.

AU Recs

Removing Bucky and Zemo from the context of their complicated history in the MCU can highlight different aspects of their characters that are really interesting to explore, as someone who finds their unique characters quite interesting as well, though I also know it isn't for everyone. Neither of these recs are short so if you don't mind an AU, set some time aside for these ones.

It Started Out With a Curse by Thorny is a fun AU I never really expected to find in this fandom. I personally have a history of writing in fantasy settings so this one has a special place in my heart.

What happens when the King and Queen of a human kingdom slight a powerful fae Lord known only as "The Baron"?

Enter a world of FairyTale/Fantasy Shenanigans as Prince James navigates his deadly curse and his confusing feelings for one (seemingly) cold and untouchable fae Lord. Meanwhile, something sinister is afoot trying to gouge a rift between the feywilds and the human kingdoms...

A Gentleman and a Scholar by EternalBeta is a no powers exploration of their dynamic that's... Beautiful. It also tackles a lot of things about kink that it feels like most fic and stories generally seem to ignore. There's also an amazing sequel series.

(this series doesn't have an easy summary available so I uh... I'll give it a go here: college student Bucky has a thing for his professor, and a whole series of bad decisions behind him. The trouble is, Bucky is impatient, and Professor Zemo doesn't fuck students. So Bucky better hurry up and graduate.)

Many of the writers above have at least a few WinterBaron fics, and I do highly recommend checking out their collections. Sparz and Six-Demon in particular have some really widely varied concepts and stories they tackle, and if you're curious at all I'd also recommend checking out Sholio who has some excellent Sam/Bucky/Zemo fics! I didn't toss recs here because they weren't the heart of the ask, but I gobbled those up easily for some very sweet treaties.

[booksandmore]

I’m sorry but CC only has herself to blame for making TMI known as “the incest books” in all of the reading communities outside of TSC fandom.

She herself ruined TMI becoming as big as it could’ve been & TSC in general by putting incest in all 6 books of TMI…That’s why no one posts about it on Booktwt or Booktok..

There’s no point in being upset at readers judging TMI for having incest in it when that’s a valid criticism.. Clace kissed multiple times for three books all while not being officially sure whether or not they were related or not..then CC got petty & doubled down on the incest after being criticized for it already & had Clary kiss her biological brother in book three after people already hated it with Clace in the first two books.

Clary’s brother almost rapes her in book five and tries kissing her in the last book. TSC is not GOT where it gets a pass. Non TSC stans really want a LI calling his girlfriend’s Dad his own Dad 💀 Jace was calling Clary’s brother his brother while being romantically involved with Clary. Just because he was adopted by Valentine as a kid didn’t make it normal for Cassie to have Jace call himself a Morgenstern or to call his girlfriend’s brother his own brother.

TMI hate = CC’s own fault.. any TMI stan bitterness should be directed at her own questionable writing choices. Sorry but seeing TMI stans hating that TMI is judged for this all when it’s the authors own fault is weird yk? It’s been too long, Cassie understands why TMI gets hate. As a TMI stan it makes me upset that she dragged the incest on the entire series because I can’t proudly ever talk about Clace, Seb or TMI as a whole because she got weird with the writing in that series on purpose to spite people who criticized the incest in Books 1-2. It was petty for her to drag on incest for that long knowing people hated it..It’s her fault.

I’m tired of people outside of the fandom being judged for not liking the incest for Clary with two Mmc’s when..it’s valid not to like or be comfortable with. TMI stans always having to make excuses for her too is even sadder bc it’s not our fault or other readers’ it’s the authors fault for putting that in a fun YA series that didn’t need incest AT ALL. That’s probably why the show was a flop and the movie, no one could take the series seriously with that arc for Clary with Jace and her brother Sebastian..

no yes i totally get it!! it is frusterating to see tmi get dismissed but im not gonna force anyone to do anything they dont like. it’s valid to not want to interact with something cause it grosses you out, i’ve definitly done that before as well. we all have our limits and that’s okay!! that said feel free to ignore the rest of this i just wanted to explain my thoughts more thoroughly but it got a bit long😭you might not like anon sorry

first of, i do admit it’s been a while since my reread and also, i haven’t touched the other series since i first read them so i can really only speak for tmi rn, and if i get anything wrong that’s on me

i should probably clarify that my original posts were create because i was just so baffled that people were sayong cc has some kind of incest kink and that’s why she was forcing it into her books. like?? an author choosing to engage with darker taboo topics doesn’t mean they’re into it im pretty sure. its not like i know her personally, but if she had a kink i sort of suspect it would show up in the rest of her books yk? is it really that hard to imagine that she’d include it for a reason?😭

for me, maybe because i’m used to books like the secre t history or older classics, i tend to look past the taboo of it and focus on what it does for the story/reveals about charchterization, if that makes sense?

i think that tmi is very much about family, and sebastian having these fucked up views about family (where he mistakes romantic love for familial love) really goes to show how horrible valentine was as a father, and how terribly he was treated and how desperate he was for love. i think he doesnt know what it means to be loved by family and that’s why he substitutes it with something else. cause i think that deep down inside he does have a normal brotherly love for clary, its just that he doesnt know any other way to show that

for me the incest thing is a plot device and it frusterates me how no one wants to engage with it that way. could it have been done differently? probabaly. but they don’t even try to examining why it’s there at all! they don’t bother analyzing or asking, hey, does the author have any particular reason for putting this here, or writing it the way she did? they just dismiss it as gross and go away. but i really do think it has a purpose and point in the story that gets lost on a lot of people

the thing is, it’s meant to be uncomfortable! it’s meant to be gross! it should weird you out!! i doubt cc meant it to be viewed positively, especially when neither the charchters nor the narrative does. it’s meant to show how badly these adults and this society have fucked up these children, and robbed them of being able to love freely and safely yk?

most of my frusteration really just comes from how puritanical fandom has been. you can choose not to engage with something if it grosses you out, that’s fine and valid and we’ve all done that before. but looking down on someone for wanting to engage with it objectively is??? i think it’s just etiquette to not engage with what you don’t like. block the tag. curate your own experience. that kinda stuff

again anon if you chose to read this anyway i really do respect and understand what you’re saying. i’m really sorry if i came across as mean or rude but like. i really really love tmi and i cannot tolerate it being dismissed like that

[grison-in-space]

Wrapping up the Guards! Guards! reread, I hit this passage from Vetinari to Vimes and have to pause to snicker because Vetinari is just so damn young here:

“A great rolling sea of evil,” he said, almost proprietorially. “Shallower in some places, of course, but deeper, oh, so much deeper in others. But people like you put together little rafts of rules and vaguely good intentions and say, this is the opposite, this will triumph in the end. Amazing!” He slapped Vimes good-naturedly on the back. “Down there,” he said, “are people who will follow any dragon, worship any god, ignore any iniquity. All out of a kind of humdrum, everyday badness. Not the really high, creative loathesomeness of the great sinners, but a sort of mass-produced darkness of the soul. Sin, you might say, without a trace of originality. They accept evil not because they say yes, but because they don’t say no. I’m sorry if this offends you,” he added, patting the captain’s shoulder, “but you fellows really need us.” “Yes, sir?” said Vimes quietly. “Oh, yes. We’re the only ones who know how to make things work. You see, the only thing the good people are good at is overthrowing the bad people. And you’re good at that, I’ll grant you. But the trouble is that it’s the only thing you’re good at. One day it’s the ringing of the bells and the casting down of the evil tyrant, and the next it’s everyone sitting around complaining that ever since the tyrant was overthrown no one’s been taking out the trash. Because the bad people know how to plan. It’s part of the specification, you might say. Every evil tyrant has a plan to rule the world. The good people don’t seem to have the knack.”

Ah, yes, sir: because you are very evil, what with the assuming power largely, as far as I can tell, because you're offended by how poorly the system works; you whose first career move was to work to create stability in the city in a bid to minimize blowback, you who are above everything else practical and focused on utilitarianism. Uhhuh.

He's so young. Almost everyone in Guards! Guards! is, of course--Carrot with his law book most obviously--but with Vimes the alcoholic depression and the despairing cynicism has its hooks in so deeply that the overall impact is hard to see. By contrast, moving from Making Money to Guards! Guards! reveals a Vetinari who is almost embarrassingly green relative to the Vetinari who trains Moist: he is constantly making arrogant mistakes (ie "there's no dragons, that's nonsense") that his older self would be mortified to see, and then there's little pronouncements like this.

And for that matter, Vetinari himself should know full well that his "bad people" don't necessarily bother with much planning, either; just look at Mad Lord Snapcase. It's possible to view this through a Doylist lens--we just know a lot more about the history of Ankh Morpork by later books than Pterry did when he was writing this one. But I like to integrate Watsonian interpretations into my readings of the text, and so I enjoy thinking about this as partly a bid to undermine any support Vimes might be lending to any bids for power Carrot might make. After all, Carrot hasn't made any commentary about his sword one way or another; it's unclear to both Vetinari and the reader whether Carrot knows about the long lost heir of the city thing, and even more unclear what Carrot might choose to do in the absence of a giant flaming dragon having declared itself king.

Vetinari is in a fairly precarious place in this book, having been Patrician for only a relatively short time as far as I can tell, and after all there has just been an extraordinarily popular movement to replace the entire office of the Patrician with a hereditary king. If Carrot chose to, he could make life quite difficult for Vetinari: he might not win a theoretical power struggle, but he could certainly cost quite a bit of political capital and considerable public belief in Vetinari's ability to create stability. And Vimes, as Carrot's immediate supervisor and erstwhile human mentor, is the single person most likely to be able to influence Carrot away from that leg of the Trousers of Time.

It's an interesting way to plea for the support of a man like Vimes, I'll put it that way. It's wholly truthful and quite earnest, and it's not particularly manipulative: if anything, it paints Vetinari in quite a lot worse light than he could make a reasonable claim to being. It also avoids tugging on at least one equally truthful argument that could be expected to tug on Vimes' own sentiments: Vetinari is, for all his flaws and autocratic opinions, at the very least not a king. While he holds power, there will be no monarchs, no Lorenzo the Kinds to claim divine right to rule. I suppose it's also possible that Ventinari simply didn't know, of course, but--it's such an interesting little speech from a character perspective.

[ronearoundblindly]

So I was rereading this ‘This All Day’ from Fools Rush In that I absolutely loveeee. ( btw Fools Rush In is by far the most character accurate Steve fic I’ve ever read. You know him so well 🥰 ) In the fic where it’s like, “He won’t get hard until you’re warmed up with his fingers—not your fingers, mind you, because he got very defensive that one time”

I was wondering if this referencing a one shot where this happened and maybe I missed it cause thinking about how that conversation went down is hilarious but also so sweet. I find it endearing that he’s defensive about it. HE wants to be the one to do it- so sweet 🥰

How do you think Steve would react if she ever wanted to introduce toys into the bedroom? (possible fic idea?). I wonder if he’d be hurt by this and also take it as him not satisfying her properly.

🥴

Oh. Yeah. Right. Caught that line, did ya? Heh...

I'm gonna put this under a cut lol. We shall be discussing adult things.

Steve (if you've read all of FRI's 'Do You Two...Fondue?') has quite a few insecurities about sex, in general, but there is specifically a prowess he would prefer, which is to be the one and the only one to get you off. He doesn't like the idea of not being enough or not knowing how to be enough for his girl, right? But he doesn't exactly have a ton of experience, and his go-getter attitude tends to drop off just shy of "how do you want my dick" obviously.

You know I love Steve, but he doesn't only not have the words for sex--can't dirty talk worth beans because he can't really say things like, well, any of it, not pussy, cunt, dick, or cock, he'll say 'breasts' maybe but otherwise it's just "him" inside "you"--but he also has hangups about varied sexual acts, toys absolutely included in that concept.

He's honestly so slow and tender to warm up to new that he mistook what was meant to be a simple show of how excited and desperate he'd made you (i.e. toughing yourself while he got undressed) as him not being thorough in his foreplay, affection, and general sensuality. Steve doesn't get angered by these things; he gets upset. He gets sad.

There has never been a more laughable and heart-breaking moment in bed for you than the hurt look on his face. It's his duty, his privilege, his job to please you. Don't take his job away from him!

(None of that was in a specific one-shot, just sorta implied throughout.)

I actually think Steve went on several long missions away before realizing you might have wanted/needed to get off without him, and at first, he hates that idea. I think he'd pitch a fucking fit if you had toys for those occasions--even if the use of them is rarer once you two are physically intimate--and yes, you're correct in thinking he'd raise hell at the idea a toy can do something for you that his body cannot.

Except for he uses his body so carefully for you. He's delicate and hesitant. He's traditional and, buddy, sorry, but often very stiff in his approach. Warm and adoring--totally!--but Steve is obsessed with not harming you.

Nevermind how fucking long the conversation is that dissects the difference between pain and 'a minor discomfort that is in service of showing how intensely you need more of your partner immediately,' he still feels strongly that you should never be remotely unprepared to take him and now he doesn't trust you not to rush it (even though/especially because he was so overwhelmed at that first feeling of you that he just thrust in (Fondue pt.16)). He never stops trying to make up for that. He does not much understand that there is a gray area between pain and pleasure.

Of course, that's partly because that whole spectrum is dulled on him, so he is psychologically and emotionally far more aware of their distinction...as one would be when fighting, interrogating, and/or killing.

It is not the most rational train of thought, but Steve was small and weak. He realized that, as he was naturally, he might not be enough for a partner--but that was because he was small and unhealthy. The serum fixed those things, and frankly, Steve has not come to terms with a big, healthy guy perhaps still falling short of being everything you could ever want or need. He's a man. As forward-thinking as he is, he's still a man who absolutely wants to be your man.

There will come a time when...toys are used as aid in [redacted], but I don't want to spoil too much...

Hope all this made sense, and

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 15: Friends Don't Lie

If you need to catch up, here's the masterlist

Summary: After days of not talking, Jess figures she should apologize.

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: Cursing, angst for sure, I think that's it? As always, if I missed anything, please let me know

Author's Note: I missed you guys :') I definitely feel out of practice so if this is shit I'm so so sorry

It had been days since Christmas Eve, and Billy had yet to come around the house. There were no taps on her window at night, no knocks on her door during the day. She hated how her room didn’t feel like hers anymore without Billy being there. She hated the way his absence made her feel. Only about a month ago, his not being here would have been welcomed. Jess would eagerly finish their shared assignment alone, hoping that Hargrove would stay away for the remainder of the break. But now? Now she was used to waking up with the blond boy sleeping on the floor by the foot of the bed. She was used to him griping about the movies she would put on, or about having to read a book he would never touch again. The thought of Billy made her reach slightly below her collarbone and fiddle with the necklace he had gotten for her for Christmas, reaching for the note that she now kept in her nightstand.  

Before you say anything 

yeah, I know the stupid horse isn’t in the book. 

It should be. 

But I saw this and thought of you anyway. 

Thanks for reading to me like a child

Merry Christmas Princess

-Billy

Jess sighed while rereading the note, remembering the argument they had over whether the Trojan Horse was in The Iliad or not. They were lying in her bed, as they had every night for a week before Christmas Eve. Billy had been throwing one of Jess’s stuffed bears up in the air like a basketball, catching it at his chest before passing it back to the imaginary person on the ceiling. 

“So when is that big ass horse in the book?” 

“Huh?” The question made Jess prop herself up on her elbow to look over at Billy. 

“You know. That thing they hide in to get into the city.”

“You know about the Trojan Horse?” 

Jess’s surprised tone caused Billy to pause his game of one-person catch, twiddling with the bear’s ear. “Jesus. How long is it gonna take for you to realize I’m not an actual idiot?” 

“I don’t think you’re an idiot! I’m just… it’s just cool you know about it,” Jess defends, giggling at the end. 

“So when is it in?” Billy threw the bear back up in the air again, a little too hard this time, causing it to bounce off the ceiling and back down aggressively toward Billy’s head, which he quickly dodged, catching it with his right hand. 

“It’s actually not.” 

“Bullshit.” He pauses tossing the bear up in the air again, propping himself up just as Jess had to look at her properly. 

“I’m serious. The book doesn’t make it to the end of the war.” 

“Then how the hell does everyone know about it?” 

Jess shrugs as much as she can with her free shoulder. “It’s in the next one I think.”

“The next what? Book?” 

Jess nods at his question, smiling at him as she raises her eyebrows. “Jesus. There’s another goddamn book?” His question made Jess laugh harder than she had earlier, leading to Billy feigning annoyance, rolling his eyes while giving her a lopsided smile. “Well, it should be in the fucking book we’re reading. That’d be badass.” 

“Why don’t you just read the other one after? It’s called The Odyssey. I have it here somew-“

“Fuck no! I’m barely getting through this one!”

Jess pushed her head farther back into her pillow, tossing the note back into its home, her other hand running over the golden horse that was attached to its matching, dainty chain. She had been wearing it since the night Billy handed her the small, wrapped package, and had only taken it off to shower and sleep, placing it atop Billy’s handwritten note anytime she did. She, however, made it a point to tuck the small horse away under the top she would wear, not wanting her parents to question her about her new gift. And when she saw Steve Harrington’s car pull up in her driveway yesterday afternoon, she hurriedly threw on the first turtleneck she could find, shamefully realizing at that moment this was why Billy Hargrove was mad at her in the first place. 

Jess looked over to the right side of the bed, Billy’s side. Even if he never actually slept there through the night, she slowly realized how she was now leaving room for someone on that side, no longer sleeping closer to the middle as she used to. She groaned as she lifted herself from where she was. Looking at herself in the mirror, she made sure that this time, the necklace was now untucked from her sweater and admired it for a moment before retreating downstairs to the kitchen. 

She was greeted by her mother, who was organizing the pantry with what she just brought home from the store a few moments ago. “Morning, hun.”

“Morning, Mom.” It was in fact no longer morning, but instead a little after one in the afternoon. By this time, Jess would have been up and about, either doing homework with Billy, or out with him getting lunch at Big Al’s, or maybe even out with Steve as they drove passed the new mall that was being developed. Jess and Billy drove by that mall all the time too, him joking about how it was going to be “super lame” because “which stores would actually want to develop here?” 

Instead, however, she had been in her room moping all morning, too stubborn to speak with him first, but coming to the realization that Billy was much more stubborn than she was. She and Steve barely ever fought, and even if they did, he was always the first to break the silence, coming to her first with an apology. Steve and her also never went days without talking like this. 

When Jess made her way passed her mother to the refrigerator, Mrs. Logan took notice of the necklace around her daughter’s neck. “Oh, that’s pretty. Is it new?” Mrs. Logan asked, now rotating the flour from the top shelf. 

“Uh, yeah…” Jess paused for a moment, retrieving 3 cranberry muffins from the fridge, and closing the door once they were secure in her hands. She hesitated for a moment more, looking down at what she could see of the necklace, and then looked back at her mother. “… Billy gave it to me for Christmas…” 

This made her mother pause what she was doing, her hands leaving the sack of flour so that her body could turn to face Jess more directly, being sure to look at the necklace once more.  “Well, it’s very pretty,” Beverly said with a knowing smile, causing Jess to shake her head, realizing this was the exact reason why she had been hiding the necklace away in the first place. “You know, I haven’t seen him around for a few days, which is… strange…” Beverly continued, “Everything alright?” 

“Yes, Mom. It’s not like he has to be here every single minute. And one of those days happened to be Christmas. So,” Jess snapped back.

“Okaaaaay. I’m just saying, he’s been here a lot recently…” She continued to give her daughter the same smile. 

“Mom. Please stop.”

“What? I’m just saying. He seems to enjoy being around here. That’s all.” 

“Steve’s here all the time too, Mom.” 

“Yes, that’s true…” She went back to fixing the flour. “But Steve got you that sweater for Christmas, hun, not a piece of jewelry.” 

Jess huffed at her mother’s quick response. “I should probably go.” 

“To Billy’s?”

“Mom.” 

Mrs. Logan only chuckled at her annoyed tone. “Really quick, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Steve and Billy, they’re not exactly friends, are they?” 

“Yeah… not exactly.” Jess leaned against the counter across from her mother, placing all three muffins down and twirling around one of them, the bottom of the lining circling the granite. 

“Your father and I could tell. Dinner was… interesting to say the least.” 

Jess snorted at her mother’s description. “I told you not to invite them.” 

As if reading her daughter’s mind, she again stopped what she was doing, and moved closer to Jess, pausing in front of her for a moment before continuing. “You know, you can be friends with both of them. Steve’s a good boy. He cares about you. He’ll understand.” 

“It’s not exactly that simple…” 

“And why not?” 

“Well…” Jess stopped spinning the muffin around and sighed, looking from the counter to her mother. “They kind of… got into a fight not too long ago. Like November…” 

“Oh… like. A fight fight?” Jess only nodded. “How’d Steve do?” 

“You remember that time him and Joyce’s son got into a fight?”

“Ah. So not very good.” 

“Nope.” 

“Well, sweetheart, Steve’s your friend, but you don’t always have to do what you think he wants. You are allowed to have other friends. Billy’s a good boy too. Who knows, maybe you’ll be the reason they become cordial.” 

“Yeah. Right,” Jess laughs out sarcastically but quickly stops. “Mom?” 

“Yeah, hun?” 

“You don’t think Steve’ll hate me?” 

“I think you two have been through too much together for him to hate you.” 

If she only knew how true that was. Jess pondered it for a moment, nodding her head slowly at the possibilities of how Steve could react to the news of her actually enjoying Billy Hargrove. There were a few options. One, and highly unlikely, Jess would tell Steve the truth and Steve would automatically accept it, not caring that she was now spending her nights with the dude who would have loved nothing more than to beat his face in a little over a month ago. Option two, which her mother was most likely banking on, would be that he would feel a little put out and would need a bit to process it, but ultimately accept her decision and would move forward. And then there was option three, the option Jess dreaded, the option that she was sure would have happened until now, Steve refusing to talk to Jess again. 

However, her mom was right. Steve was her best friend. She was the one who stayed with him through his relationship with Nancy, and their breakup. Hell, they’ve fought demi dogs together with a bunch of children. He wouldn’t just drop her for not seeing eye to eye with him, would he? 

Jess grabbed the muffins from the counter, finding a new surge of motivation. “Thanks, Mom.” 

“Of course.” 

“I should uh, I should probably get going…”

“To Billy’s?” 

“Yes, Mom, to Billy’s.”

“Well tell him I said hi.” 

Jess promised that she would and headed toward the door, grabbing her jacket as she exited her house. It wasn’t as cold as it had normally been, but it was still cold enough for her to want to hurry and hand the muffins off so she could be able to put on her jacket. She made the short walk over to Hargrove’s/Mayfield’s home, seeing Billy’s blue Camaro being the only car in the driveway.

At least he’s home.

Jess hesitated at the door for a moment, wondering whether this was a good idea. It had only really been two days since Christmas, maybe he just needed a little more time. Maybe he wasn’t actually mad and apologizing would just make her look stupid. Maybe he doesn’t want to see her, or he’s busy, or-

“MAX! If you want me to drop you off at that damn arcade with your freak friends, then hurry up!” Billy opened the door as he yelled the last part, practically screaming in Jess’s face before he turned around and realized there was someone at the door. They both paused, not yet saying anything, both staring the other down. However, Billy’s expression differed from Jess’s. While Billy attempted not to show any emotion whatsoever, his face as still as stone, Jess looked as if she was a deer caught in headlights. Billy was the first to break the silence, walking passed Jess to get to his car, practically bumping her out of the way. “If you’re wanting to finish up the project, it’s gonna have to wait. I’m busy.” 

Jess’s shoulders deflated. So he was mad. “That’s… that’s not why I’m here.” Her confession caused Billy to pause at his car door, both his hands placed on the roof while he hung his head slightly. 

“Then what?”

“I, umm…” Jess moved to where he was, standing by the hood of his car. “I brought you some muffins… you’re favorite…” 

Billy took one of the cranberry orange muffins handed to him and took a small bite. “My favorite’s actually the blueberry ones,” he deadpanned, not returning eye contact. 

“Oh… I just thought. You always asked for these ones. So. Nevermind. Sorry.” 

“So you just here to drop these off then?” He finally looked at her again and watched the way her gaze dropped to the concrete driveway as she shook her head in response. His gaze then traveled down to where the necklace sat against her sweater, causing him to clench his jaw to keep from smiling. 

“Billy, I-“

“I get it, Jess. Okay? I do.”

“Then why are you upset?” Billy sighed, throwing his head up to where he was looking at the sky then back down to where his eyes were now meeting hers. He knew exactly why. He knew how much he hated how he couldn’t walk the halls with her without the both of them looking around to see who was watching. He hated how quickly she would separate herself from him when she saw Steve coming her way, how he could spend every night with Jess and it still wouldn’t be enough for him to have a chance of staying in her life after this shared assignment was over. 

“Jess. I just thought-“ 

“Hey!” Max had finally exited the house and closed their front door, running over to Jess and hugging her. “Oh, thanks.” She took one of the muffins Jess had in her hand, turning away to enter the other side of the car.  

Jess handed the third to Billy and turned to face her own home. “I can… I can come back when you’re not so busy. I’ll-“

“Max, get in the back.” 

“No really, Billy, I don’t want to-“ 

“Get in the car, Jess.” 

Max did as she was told, climbing over the middle console as she normally did when Jess was tagging along. Jess then sat in the seat beside Billy, who was already starting his car. Once her door was closed, Billy peeled out of his driveway and sped toward the end of their street, turning without much of a stop at their street’s stop sign. They had arrived in front of the Palace Arcade even quicker than he’s accomplished before, possibly due to the tension in the car. Once they got close to the entrance, Billy stomped on his brakes, causing Jess to lurch forward.

“Alright, shitbird-“ 

“I know, I know. I have an hour.” 

Max began to climb through the middle before Billy stopped her, looking at Jess intently before he decided, “You can make it three.” Max’s face lit up, scrambling to get out of the car before he changed his mind. “But hey! I want you out here when I come get you!” Max nodded, slamming the door before Billy even finished his sentence. 

Jess sat there, making herself as small as she could, now feeling the awkwardness of having just them two in the car. It normally wouldn’t have felt this way; she typically liked it when it was just them two. Now, however, she wasn’t exactly sure where she stood with him. Jess began fiddling with the charm on her necklace, causing Billy to look over at her and decide to park in the arcade parking lot. 

“What are we doing?”  Jess looked around, slightly confused. “We’re not sitting here for three hours… are we?” 

He continued to watch the way she grabbed at her necklace, which was something new for her, as he’s never actually seen her wear one before. “No. Just. Thought you wanted to talk.” He looked down at her necklace again, realizing she wasn’t planning on saying anything anytime soon, so he decided to ease the pressure. “Cute necklace.” 

Jess smiled sheepishly at his joke. “Yeah? Some asshole gave it to me as a Christmas present.” 

“Is that so?” Billy chuckled a bit at her comeback, looking out her window before turning his attention back on her. “Well, that asshole has great taste.” When he earned a laugh from her, he looked down at her sweater, something else she had on that was new. “You get this for Christmas too?” He grabbed the bottom of it gently and rubbed it in between his fingers, just as he did with the sleeve of her dress Christmas Eve, making Jess’s stomach erupt. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it was. Steve actually got it for me.” 

Billy quickly removed his hand from the sweater and shifted in his seat, pushing his head into the headrest. “Fuckin’ Steve.” 

“What?”

“You couldn’t have come see me with another damn sweater on?”  He teased, though only slightly, as he was also somewhat serious. It was ironic to him that the first time he was seeing his present for her on, it was accompanied by something Harrington got for her, and that didn’t necessarily sit right with him, though he knew he had no right to think that way. 

“See, this is exactly why I don’t tell Steve about anything. Because you two absolutely hate each other! You can’t even stand that I’m in a sweater he simply got me for Christmas.” 

“Listen, alright, I’m sorry for freaking out Christmas Eve. But Jesus. I’ve been hanging out with you non-stop for weeks now, Jess. Isn’t he gonna find out eventually?” 

Jess didn’t know how to respond. As always, he was right, even if she wished he wasn’t. “I just want him to find out on my terms, Billy. That’s all.” 

“And what exactly are those terms? You gonna tell him after you ditch me once our project is done like you’ve been promising him you’d do? Huh?”

“Billy, what…”

“I heard you that day after practice, Jess, okay?” 

“And what about you? You don’t-” 

“Yeah, well, the difference between you and me is I don’t mean the shit I say to them. You fucking do.” Billy began running his fingers through his hair in frustration, slightly messing up the curls that he seemed to have worked hard on this morning. 

“I didn’t realize you cared what I say to Steve…” 

“I do when it’s true.” The left corner of his mouth ticked downward as he cleared his throat. He then turned away from her, looking out his front window, which was now faced at the brick wall of the arcade. He scrunched his nose in irritation as he had yet to hear a response from Jess. “Be straight with me, Logan, after this project, we goin’ back to how shit was before?” 

“I…” Jess paused, looking down at her lap, and then followed Billy’s gaze to the windowed brick wall right in front of them, being able to find Max and Lucas standing at a machine by themselves, laughing, while the other three boys and El were huddled around another machine. She had been watching them for too long, as Billy sighed, slamming his head back into his headrest. 

“Really wish I would have known that before all this shit.”

“Wait… Billy…” Her attention quickly snapped back to him, who was now looking everywhere but at her. 

“Jess. I don’t care. Just would have been fucking nice to know.” His demeanor, however, betrayed his words. He was clenching his jaw again, as he did when she first saw him this afternoon, but he was now blinking rapidly, looking around the parking lot once more before he opened his door to get out of the car. Without a word, he slammed the door shut. Jess watched as he reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his pack of reds and placed on in between his lips. At this moment, Jess decided to follow him out, rounding the front of the car to the driver’s side. 

“Fucking piece of shit.” Billy was now aggressively raking his finger across the starter of the lighter, failing each time to get it to light. He groaned as he realized he might not get it to work, but continued to try, looking over to see Jess had joined him outside. “What.”

“I didn’t mean it.” 

“What’re you talking about?” Billy looked down at his lighter, which finally decided to spark, and brought it up to his cigarette before letting it go and putting it back into his pocket. He took a long drag from it before Jess spoke up again. 

“What I said to Steve, everything I’ve said to Steve. I don’t mean it.” Billy shot his head in Jess’s direction, his eyes fixated on hers, seeing if they held any insincerity. He stood there a moment, letting his red continue to burn at his side, and when the ash began to grow, he finally broke eye contact, flicking the butt of his cigarette, and letting the collection of ash drop on his boot. 

“What happened to ‘friends don’t lie’?” 

“Well, I’ve been a pretty shit friend lately…” Her voice shook faintly.

Billy’s gaze left the ash still on his foot and returned to Jess, his eyes holding a softness she was not yet used to. “No you haven’t.” He gave her a sympathetic smile, which she briskly returned, and opened his right arm for her, still holding his Marlboro in his other hand. In two quick steps, she closed the gap between them, wrapping both arms around his waist while Billy’s free arm pulled her in. She normally would have looked behind her, through the window, to ensure none of the six teenagers she knew would have seen them. She would have made the hug short if she even went in for it at all. 

But all that is what caused this in the first place. 

“I’m really sorry…” 

Billy clicked the roof of his mouth with his tongue, pulling her away only so he could look at her better. “I get it. Look. You don’t have to tell Harrington. That’s not what… Just… It’d be cool if I still got to hang with you even if we’re not doing homework together anymore.”

“I mean, to be fair, I’ll still probably need you for pre-calc. You know, considering you’re a math whizz and all.” Jess beamed up at him, causing Billy to roll his eyes playfully. 

“Oh yeah? And what about summer? Still gonna need me?” He looked down at her the same way that always made her wordless, his eyes starting at her own, slowly regarding each of her characteristics as he made his way down to her lips, occasionally stopping on a certain feature of hers, squinting ever so slightly as if to dial in and appreciate it even more than he already had before. She couldn’t continue to watch him and turned away, hoping she did so just in time before her blush became evident. 

“I think so.” 

Billy smirked in response, reaching down to hold the gold horse in between his thumb and index finger. “Gold’s your color.” 

“Yeah, well, like you said, the guy who got it for me has great taste.”

“Yeah, he does.” But even though he continued to hold on to the charm, he was no longer looking at it. Instead, he was again looking at her. She furrowed her eyebrows as he continued to stare into her, not sure if she understood what he meant. As her mind began to wander, Jess felt a slight shiver run down her back, which Billy mistook for her being cold. 

“Get in the car, gorgeous.” Though he had only a puff from his red, he threw it down on the asphalt and snuffed it with the ball of his boot. Jess moved to the other side of the car, opening the passenger door and climbing into the cockpit, with Billy moving in next to her shortly afterward. 

“So where are we going?” 

Billy looked over at her and down at her necklace again, grinning to himself for only a moment. “Wherever you want.” 

“Oh, can we uh. Can you teach me how to drive again? If we have the time?” Jess asked, looking at Billy hopefully. 

“Oh Jesus,” Billy groaned, smiling a bit while he looked out his front window, nodding to himself. He threw his car in reverse and reached his right arm across Jess’s headrest, backing out of the parking spot with ease. “Whatever you want.” 

Jess bounced in her seat excitedly, causing Billy to chuckle, muttering, “Don’t make me regret this, Logan.” As they continued to drive to the abandoned space she had practiced in before, Jess was unable to look anywhere but at Billy Hargrove, who was now drumming his steering wheel with the music, completely unaware that the girl next to him was imagining how his hand would feel on her lap while he drove with his other, or maybe he would rather hold her hand in his. She imagined what it would be like to park on the side of the road, or her driveway, or a parking lot, and watch him lean over the middle console, feel his hand at the base of her neck pulling her in, and have his lips on hers. She imagined what it would be like to wake up with Billy in her room with her, and instead of him being on the floor, he had her pulled in next to him in the comfort of her bed. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Billy caught Jess’s gaze, noticing the way her pupils stayed dilated before he’d brought her back to reality with his question. He continued to stare at her curiously, only shifting his eyes away to look at the road briefly. 

Jess shook the thoughts away as she finally looked away from him. “Nothing. Just zoned out I guess.” 

“What happened to ‘friends don’t lie’?”

Yeah. Well. They’re not supposed to make you feel like this, either.

Taglist: @nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored @ahoyyharrington @strawberrykittey

[lynns-cornerr]

“TOMORROW’S TEST” - BAJI X HARDWORKER! READER

Pronouns : they/them

Genre : fluff

A/n : Little story I wrote during my history class, hope you like it :)

English isn’t my first language, please let me know if there’s any grammar error!!

he was in the same class as you, and yet you never really noticed him. You only tended to care about those two or three people that you interact daily and did not hate without reasons, the others were just company, and you knew others saw you in the same way.

You met him during lunch. You had finished earlier and you were already directing to the class to prepare and review what you needed for the next lessons, you were sure to not find anyone as usual, but it wasn’t so.

There was a guy sitting in the back row, he had long black hair tied up, and glasses that looked ridiculous. He was writing something, and judging by his facial expression, he wasn’t doing so well, he was probably so busy he didn’t even notice you.

You sat in your usual seat, looking the other way and doing your thing, but as you reread your notes, you started to feel watched. You turned your back to see the boy hastily look down.

you however did not stop watching him, and in the end you decided to go to him, sitting at the table in front of the guy. He immediately looked up nervously, instead you looked at his notebook

"If you need a hand, just ask,"

you just said, turning the notebook in your directions and starting to read what he had written.

"O-h, sorry. I didn’t want to bother you a-"

"don’t worry"

just then you looked up to send him a friendly smile. He looked you in the eye with a shocked expression that soon turned into one of gratitude

"in that case, thank you"

That night, while you were doing your things, you had difficulty concentrating. But it wasn’t like the other times: it was usually related to your worries about things that happened that day or doubts about the future and things like that, but now you couldn’t think about anything but that guy

Even if you were in class together, how come you never noticed? You’ve always been a attentive to detail, so why can’t you remember him? Were your friends right when they said you tended to live in your own little world? I mean, yeah, you remember his face, after all, you’ve been going to school together for years, and yet you don’t remember talking to him or anything, and it just seemed ... strange

the next day, before entering school, you asked a couple of questions to your friends about that boy - Baji Keisuke. They told you that they did not know much about him, they had just heard a few rumors about how bad he was at school and that he was kind of a friend with another boy, Chifuyu, who was a bully a few years ago, but who seemed to have calmed down after getting to know Baji.

You wished you could get more informatio, but the bell rang and you went to class. As you walked, you tried to pay more attention to the things and people around you.

like the day before, you decided to go to class early during your lunch break, and luckily, there was again.

"Hey," you said while sittings straight next to him.

You offered to help him study, and he initially resisted, saying that he did not want to take advantage of his kindness, but you insisted and he had no escape.

this went on for a couple of days, always with the same dynamic. But one day you finally decided to ask.

"Why are you always spending your break here lately?"

He hesitated for a moment, and slightly lowered his head, embarrassed,

"You know the task we have the day after tomorrow?"

"Yes?"

"I don’t want to take another deficiency. Not that I care much, but my mother does and I would like to give her a satisfaction"

"... I see"

That said, you kept coming back, but you weren’t as interested as before, because your head was elsewhere. You thought how cute her intentions were, after all, in those days he was trying really hard, and thinking that it was for his mother gave you a strange warmth in your chest.

The bell rang sooner or later and you two stopped repeating, but you felt you wanted to spend more time with him. You didn’t know why, but you felt this wasn’t enough.

to get you out of your thoughts was Baji with a small but simple phrase

"how about tomorrow we repeat together? Maybe my place, if it’s okay"

as you returned to your seat, behind you Baji was literally screaming inside, incredulous that you had accepted (after school he would tell Chifuyu, and he would be completely shocked by how much Baji was behaving since that wasn’t even an official appointment, yet looked like he was in Haeven)

that afternoon, you met his mother. She was immediately kind and welcoming to you, thanking you for agreeing to help her ‘idiot son’

everything went smoothly, until the two of you heard a knock on Baji's bedroom door. You both thought that maybe she was his mother, but instead you found yourself in front of a boy who was more or less the same age as you, with light purple hair and eyes, and a black and white uniform and a familiar face

"Baji we- oh"

He immediately panicked

"Taka , not now"

“I know, I get it, but things have happened with.. well you know."

he hesitated, visibly frustrated by that situation. "Okay, but a quick one"

The two left the room, closing the door behind them, and you stood there, confused, and even worried.

shortly after, the door opened and saw Baji visibly angry

"I’m sorry, but I have things to do, I have to deal with something"

on his face you could clearly see his sorrow but you did not ask any question

"All right, don’t apologize. After all it got pretty late and good or bad we repeated everything, so I’m sure tomorrow will be fine. I go home now"

"Wait, alone? I can give you a lift."

"Didn’t you say you were busy? I don’t want to waste your time. Plus, I’m retry sure is something important"

"Relax, with the bike will take less than five minutes"

"Oh, it’s- umh, fantastic!"

You tried not to point it out, but it was clear that you were nervous (I don’t know about you, but I hate them. Sorry)

He probably understood it, in fact he tried to be as gentle and gentle as possible while trying to settle

"you can hold on me if you’re scared"

"...thanks"

You held on as if your life depended on it, trying not to get too attached, and especially not thinking about the fear of falling-

shortly, as he predicted, you arrived at the entrance to your neighbourhood

"Leave me here"

"Are you sure? I don’t have to drive you home"

"No, that’s not it, I just told my parents I was at a friend’s house."

"Why didn’t you tell ‘em?"

"They’re... pretty strict, let’s say that"

you knew what they were like, and if they found out you lied to go to the house of a guy they knew nothing about would be your end

he nodded his head, but as you went down you felt the need to tell him something

"Whatever you’re about to do... be careful, okay?"

“I.. i will. See you tomorrow”

It had been two weeks after that day, you were at school and the teacher had finally brought back the exam for which you and Baji (almost and only Baji actually) had studied days and nights.

Also, he used your notes. You left them in his room, knowing that they would be of more useful to him than to you

While the teacher was handing out the exam you heard her say, "Congratulations. Try to do that on your next time too."

When the bell rang you waited for everyone to go out to Baji, who like you was waiting to talk to you

"so? How did it go?"

"Sixty-three!"

"I’m proud of you, Kei,"

You said smiling and pat him on the shoulder

He smiled back, not just for that score, but because it was the first time you called him by name. The mf went straight to the other guys of the toman to show the score, omitting the fact that you had been after him for days

the two of you continued to hang out between one break and sometimes you even organized little evening outings. You learned to know each other more and he trusted you enough to tell you about Toman and the boys, and he’s glade you still talk to him and are not scared of him.

Please ask him out for A REAL date. He’s too embarrassed to do it by himself

+ The Toman boys teased him whenever they can (Chifuyu’s fault). Obviously only his friends, his subordinates were too afraid for their lives

"Will you leave us now to spend all your time with your girlfriend?"

"What?! We’re just friends!"

"Aww, is little Kei embarrassed?"

"What the hell is wrong with y’all?!

he refuses to let you meet them because of this jokes, expect for Chifuyu, Kazutora and maybe Mitsuya since he is more mature than the others.

[rmd-writes]

hello rmd!! as i was rereading what like it's hard for the nth time, i just realized that they never said i love yous in real time (does that make sense???) or there was never a scene where they said their first i love yous because it was 12 mos later when it was on writing (which is perfect) so i wanted to ask if you have any ideas or scenarios or hcs in which they said if first??? like idk from your drafts or something?? obvs cannot get enough of this au!!!

hi nonnie! I saw this ask on the weekend, didn't have time to answer it and then forgot until just now - sorry!

I'm so glad you like this story, it really means so much to me that you've reread it at all, let alone more than once! 💖💖 What you said does make sense and when I was writing it, I wrestled with Alex and Henry not saying their first "I love you" on screen so to speak because I wanted to give them that moment, but I also needed to move the story forward!

I don't have drafts to share because I never actually wrote the scene but I have thought about it and I think that they would have both known that they were in love for some time before they actually say it.

A couple of months after the baseball game, Alex is in the middle of trial prep and working impossibly long hours (more so than usual). Henry hasn't seen him for over a week beyond Alex crawling into his bed at midnight and passing out with his chest pressed to Henry's back, then rolling out of bed again far too early in the morning to go to work. So, in a bid to actually see his boyfriend while he's awake, Henry stops by Alex's office one night with dinner.

Alex is running on more caffeine than is advisable (his usual intake is inadvisable, he's exceeded that. Brianna has refused to bring him more coffee so Alex has resorted to getting the junior staff to do it for him instead, to much disapproval from Bri). When Henry texts him to say he's downstairs with dinner at 8pm Alex realises that he hasn't eaten at all that day except for a shitty muffin that Bri stole from a conference room and just about forced down his throat at 2pm because she was sick of Alex being hangry. He races down to the lobby to see Henry and almost knocks him over because he hugs him so hard. He takes a second just to rest his head on Henry's shoulder and inhale his scent because he fucking misses his boyfriend.

Regretfully, Alex doesn't have time to sit and eat with Henry, if he's going to have any chance of making it home (no, he's not going to think about the fact that he just thought of Henry's apartment as 'home', it's just an expression, don't fucking mention it) while Henry is still awake.

"Fuck, I love you for this," Alex says, kissing Henry lightly on the lips before taking the take out container that Henry offers him and walking away.

He doesn't clock what he's said until he's halfway back to the elevator. He turns around slowly when it hits him and Henry is still standing there, smiling.

Alex walks back to Henry. "So, I said what I said," he says, almost defiantly.

"You did," Henry replies, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"And I fucking meant it." Alex takes a breath. "I love you."

Henry's smile lights up the lobby, hideous fluorescent lights be damned.

"I love you too."

They kiss for far longer and with more passion than is advisable in Alex's workplace but neither of them care.

"Go finish your work," Henry murmurs against Alex's lips.

(Alex makes it back to Henry's apartment at 10.30pm that evening. He tells Henry he loves him with his whole body, writing it into his skin with his words, the press of his lips and the cut of his teeth. Henry says it back over and over and over again, as he presses Alex into the mattress, with the featherlight touch of his fingers and the roll of his hips and his breath warm against Alex's neck as he speaks.)

don't estop me now series (aka rwrb lawyer au - I'm begging you to please read them in the order I've published them in for maximum enjoyment)

[fatuismooches]

a girl i liked likes someone else and i mayyy or may not have subjected myself to listening to her talk abt it bc she asked…HAPPY NEW YEAR, SMOOCHIESSSSS!! bc yk who wouldn’t like someone else and then make me beta read a poem they want to send?? MY DEAR HUSBAND PANTALONE <33

insanity he would write reader LETTERS all in the nicest cursive. but imagine when they were much younger, when his writing was less pretty and more chicken scratch. barely knew how to write, but he still wanted to send you personalized letters when you were working too hard. maybe his writing over the years has evolved, both the words he used and the way his handwriting slowly became more refined- the content has not.

(he gets a lil golden box for all of the letters he has been sent back for sure)

YK WHO ELSE WOULDNT MAKE ME DO THAT…MY MAN..CAPITANO ❤️ (he’s my husband and HE KNOWS IT). sure hes the captain of the entirety of the fatui, sure he’s fought in wars and won fights of grandeur. will he happily lift reader up to get a small jar at the back of the cupboards? YES. will he slightly remove his helmet only to give reader a kiss (probably two)? yesyesyes. him on one knee like a knight, promising to forever protect reader? uhm! yes!

- 💌 anon

(x, x) <- (Funnily enough I have some posts similar to this.) AND YES, HAPPY (LATE) NEW YEARS DEAR 💌 ANON! I hope your year gets better though, I'm really sorry that happened to you :( *hugs you tightly*

Pantalone's handwriting when he was younger was definitely nothing special... struggling through poverty, he was barely learning how to write. You would still read through his letters with his less than elegant handwriting of course, because it was from your friend who put in all this effort for you. But that wasn't enough for him, even at a young age he'd decided that you should be awarded only the best, as he already made up his mind to pay you back for everything you helped him with.

So as the years went by, he studied and practiced improving his handwriting, writing whenever he had the time to. Not just for himself and his goals, but for you too. Countless drafts not making the cut because he wanted the best perfection he could achieve at the time to be viewed by you. Picking up on the language from a multitude of books so he could portray your beauty and his love for you in a proper manner which you deserve.

(He keeps the box in his office so he can reread your letters when he needs a break... one could see how old the paper is, spanning from literally decades back, but he still keeps it in as pristine condition as he can.)

After Capitano begins to get over his fear of hurting you, he's the kind of guy who'd be a bit sad and disappointed you pulled a chair to get something instead of asking him... he definitely loves when you rely on him! Capitano may not be good at a lot of "normal" things, but he's always willing to help you. He probably makes you close your eyes when he takes off his helmet to kiss you... despite how much he loves you, it's still going to be a long road to see if he can be vulnerable enough to reveal his true self. But even so, he swears to forever be yours.

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Can you recommend me some good fics where Barry Allen gets kidnapped :) since in one of your tags you said you read a lot of them lol

I read them, I write them, I live and breathe them. Absolutely anon, allow me to dive into my bookmarks.

Just a reminder, always be sure to check the tags and warnings to know what you're getting into. Stay safe out there folks!

Juncture by @pennflinn may be my favorite fic of all time. Technically he gets kidnapped before the story's events but that's because it's an alternate ending to Escape from Earth-2 (and he is held captive for pretty much the entire fic so). The whump is SUPREME and the overall story is so well written. I will always recommend this fic.

One Second by pennflinn. Another one by penn because she is an incredible writer and HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS FIC!! It takes my favorite premise for a fic "What if Barry was kidnapped in this scene/episode when he wasn't in canon!" and brings it to a WHOLE nother level. This one is diverges from 1x14 "Fallout" where, instead of everyone getting away semi-safely, Eiling kidnaps Barry and whump ensures. BUT there's another twist to this fic that (in my opinion) makes it stand out from many others-- every once in a while, there's a glimpse of a parallel universe where the events were different and let's just say some of those universes h u r t. Also, I wanted to kill Eiling so bad after reading this that I wrote a ficlet with the sole purpose of murdering him :) Anyways, go read; it's amazing.

Miles Through The Night by @hedgiwithapen. First off, this is an everyone whump fic, Barry is not the only one who is kidnapped but 1. IT HURTS GODS IT HURTS SO BAD I'M DYING. 2. The writing is spectacular, all the characters are super well done, and the story is INTENSE I'M STILL DYING SORRY I'LL STOP NOW. In this one-- actually nvm, the actual summary will do it justice. "With Eobard Thawne dead, life in Central City can go back to normalish. But Barry’s greatest enemy is not a speedster from the future fixated on him, and Eobard’s threat may have been the only thing keeping Team Flash safe from someone who doesn’t consider any meta to be human." THAT'S RIGHT-- AN EILING FIC! Just. Go read it, it's so good and I'm dying.

Lightning Bug by Hedgi. The writing in this was SUPERB and Eiling is a fucking bastard as always (count your days general.). And this time we have another speedster in the mix-- a toddler Wally! Ngl, I just reread this while getting the link and it was SO GOOD-- and once again my words can't seem to do it justice so I'll leave you with the summary "Months after the defeat of Zoom, Barry's main concern (aside from the odd metahuman attack) is helping Joe and Iris raise the four and a half year old Speedster Wally West, Cisco-named "Lightning Bug." And while that's hard, it's nice to have this speedster as family, not an enemy. Things are pretty easy.

Unfortunately, that doesn't last. After all, General Eiling's deal was only good for as long as their mutual enemies were still a threat." Eiling needs to die in a ditch as you can see, but there's some really sweet whump in this and it's because of him soooooo-- anyways, go read; it was fantastic.

Can’t Take That Away From Me by SophiaCatherine (or @sophiainspace on here). DUDE. DUDE DUDE DUDE-- I LOVE THIS FIC. I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC. EVen once the whump passes, the A N G S T is so delicious! From the beginning of the first chapter alone; you'll see the sweet whump AND angst this fic has in store. Oh, and it's Coldflash which I somehow forgot to mention even though that's a foundation of the entire fic lmao. I love it, go read. Also, there is a sequel but it's not Barry being whumped this time... double also; there's a prequel and it's really sweet (no whump in that one fyi)

I Never Told Him by messedupstargazer. I am SCREAMING. THIS. FIC. Fyi, it's Coldflash. SO MUCH ANGST THE WHUMP-- IT'S SO GOOD I HAVE NO WORDS. DYING DYING DYING I AM DEAD I HAVE PERISHED.

Looking through all of these at once has filled me with many emotions and I apologize if some parts were incoherent. I'm probably missing a few and may add more as I find them but for now I'll finish with these two I wrote.

12 hours Barry's kidnapped before the events of the story but I think it still counts. He's trapped in Zoom's lair and forced to run for twelve hours every day :)

Trophy this is my beloved and the entire fic is a Barry whump fest (and angst. a lot of angst.). (or will be, There's one chapter posted atm) Technically we haven't seen the kidnapping yet but in the first scene he is in a cell so. Premise is that Zoom wins in the season 2 finale and everything goes to hell from there. I do feel obligated to warn though that there's not a happy ending for this one.

Thanks for asking! I'm always eager to share Barry whump! :D