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demoiselledefortune · 4 years ago

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Post canon sangcheng fic recs for @runespoor7

(wooohoo that’s only 25 fics haha)

Silence by inberin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441771

a conversation in the snow.

Wonderfully nuanced characterisation. It hints at whole relationship and dynamic with a lot of delicacy.

Windrose by offlight

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997546

Nie Huaisang is forced into a coma to stop his qi deviation. Jiang Cheng is tasked with waking him up.

There’s a lot of intriguing dreamscapes in this one, and I love Jiang Cheng (and in the background Wei Wuxian)’s desperation and obstinacy.

All the innocence we give by shamiran

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864910

Learning to renavigate the ground between them is easier than Nie HuaiSang expects. It's also harder than he could have imagined.

Just a sweet story.

Taste the wine off your lips by ExNihiIo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20129245

A light pat lands against his back, and a cup of water is pushed in front of his face. “Not even Zi Shi, and you’re already tipsy?,” asks a teasing voice, while a thin hand puts down the cup. Jiang Cheng coughs a little more, shaking his head, and sends a dirty look at his host. “I am not tipsy.” “Hm, and yet your cheeks are all red. What would your disciples think, if they saw you in this state?” “They’d think about running away while they can. I can break legs more easily than I can drink alcohol.” A smile curves the edges of Nie Huaisang’s mouth, and he closes his fan with a curt jerk, sitting across the table. He’s wearing lighter clothes, Jiang Cheng notices, compared to the ones he had during the Discussion Conference. Where those had been tight and rigid against his body, these now fall softly on him, the large sleeves sweeping delicately as Nie Huaisang moves to pour himself a cup.

I like the melancholy tone of this one.

The light of autumn: you will not be spared by crooows

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901467/chapters/47138221

Nie Huaisang arrives a week early for the conference which will be held in Yunmeng to discuss the position of chief cultivator.

[Title is from a poem called "October" by Louise Glück!]

A bit funny, a bit melancholy

You can run but you can’t hide by ThirtySixSaveFiles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21119297

Nie Huaisang has noticed something about the way Jiang Cheng takes compliments; Nie Huaisang has a theory, and he intends to test it out.

Just Huaisang figuring out Jiang Cheng has a praise kink. Established pairing.

Evening Bloom by dragonofeternal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958518

Jiang Cheng is spry and lithe well into his twilight years, living well off Wei Wuxian's stolen youth; Nie Huaisang's golden core, on the other hand, has always been poor- he blacks his hair with ink and dyes, hides the pudge of indolence and the wrinkles of age behind the latest fashions and the finest fans. Perhaps for their peers, finding the space to be vulnerable came easy, but for them it's taken this long to maybe think of letting someone in.

I have a big weakness for stories about old people falling in love and this is one delivers very sweetly.

Four Days in Lanling by Halotolerant

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722695/chapters/51817036

Nie Huaisang looks at him. ‘You are confusing me, Clan Leader Jiang, perhaps I misunderstand, but…’

‘You didn’t misunderstand. You don’t misunderstand. You understand all of it.’ For six months Jiang Cheng has been mulling this over, and now with Nie Huaisang in front of him he can’t figure out if he most wants to knock him down or kneel at his feet. What he does is try and breathe. Clench his hands at his sides. ‘And now I am going to ask you to do something for me. You have to do something for me. You have to help Jin Ling.’

Ok so perhaps it’s misrepresentating to call this a post canon fic since most of the action is mid-13-years-of-WWX-death but the fairly important framing part is post canon. Also it’s one of the best sangcheng fic out there and a must read.

Shadow eternal by rynleaf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162944/chapters/55439032

“You want me to distract the Chief Cultivator from the Annual Cultivation Conference, so you and other sect leaders can… what. Sign contracts without adult supervision?”

“If Jiang-zongzhu is amenable,” Sect Leader Ouyang repeats with a nod.

Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure he felt building behind his eyes all morning is swiftly coalescing into a bitch of a headache. “Just what do you all think I’m capable of?”

Sect Leader Ouyang bows with a cheerful smile. “We have utmost faith in Sandu Shengshou’s abilities.”

In which a night hunt ends in disaster, Jiang Cheng catches a glimpse of Nie Huaisang's heart, and feelings are discussed after a certain fashion.

One that’s between sweet and angsty.

The way is shut, and we cannot go back by saltedpin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23592523

One month since Guanyin Temple, and some people are coping better than others (or not).

This one is a mostly sad and bitter take on Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plot (and being very drunk).

Living memory by ghosthouses

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827980

Once Jin Guangyao has left, he gives himself two indulgences. The first, a day to scream in his rooms made soundproof with a talisman. The second, a physical list written in code, to keep his older self, who will have let the pain dull with time, accountable for what must be done.

It has only two commandments:

He will die.

and

He will know.

Nie Huaisang puts it in his sleeve with the intention of keeping it with him at all times, to be added to but never reduced, a living memory of his task.

This and its prequel which you should also read is quite short but probably one of my favorite depictions of their dynamic (and probably one I find most plausible).

What’s Left of us by cangse-sanren

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979081

“Well,” Huaisang tries hesitantly, “both of us seem to have a rather fraught relationship with things like older brothers and the concept of betrayal. And regret,” he adds as an afterthought. "Perhaps you just understand me more than most."

Yet another that dwells into Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plan. I really like that take although it’s barely shippy (and quite short).

Descending by lightningwaltz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296595

“I want to… to not be embarrassed.”

“To not be embarrassed during what?”

“During sex.” There. Jiang Cheng can say it. “In general. Also with you right now.”

“Very good.”

“When did you become so authoritative?” Jiang Cheng wants to sound irked, but can’t quite manage anything beyond nervous curiosity.

Very interesting fic and in many ways unusual. I’d say it’s hypnosis kink, but it’s much more character driven than that. With a context of established FWB arrangement between Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang.

Tell him that I miss our little talks by xiaolongbaobei

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232023

the post-canon fic where Jiang Cheng becomes the Chief Cultivator, realizes that it's not too late to fall in love and learns to ask for what he wants

Longish fic exploring Jiang Cheng as Chief cultivator working with Nie Huaisang and slowly falling in love with him. I adore this one, and not only because I love fics that explore the idea of Jiang Cheng as chief cultivator.

Blind for Love by manamune

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760272

Jiang Cheng is poisoned with an aphrodisiac and needs to orgasm repeatedly in order to flush it from his system.

The first person he thinks of going to for help is Nie Huaisang, who does what any good friend would do: he shoves his three decades worth of feelings for Jiang Cheng deep into the recesses of his mind, locks them up so he can pretend they don’t exist, and then fucks him so hard that he passes out.

Mostly a long smutty piece, but with a lot of fun character bits along the way.

A Tight-Knit Family by aldalin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500481/chapters/61862899

“Jing Ling, we need to talk.”

Jin Ling has too many uncles, and he’s about to get another.

Sect Leader Jiang announces his marriage to Sect Leader Nie.

A fairly different take, more focused on Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian reacting to Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s relationship.

A trip to Qinghe by Scorpiwriting

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974741

An unexpected hunt forces Jiang Cheng to leave the Lotus Pier a bit earlier than he had anticipated, so he decides to send Jin Ling to Qinghe, for the sake of not sending him back to Lanling so soon: it turns into a learning experience for the young sect leader, who gets to peek into the life of the Headshaker.

or.

Jin Ling learns that not everything people say is true and that perhaps there is some merit to art. He also learns that loneliness is a dark beast and that his uncle should definitely do something about it.

Another one more focused on Jin Ling’s reaction to it. Honestly more of a gen piece about Jin Ling and Nie Huaisang, but an interesting one.

Silver bracelets on their wrists by mercurious

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25797715

“Can’t I find excuses to visit an old friend?”

Ok so this one is a bit fucked up in interesting ways. It combines Chief Cultivator Jiang Cheng and explicit longing about Wei Wuxian, and BDSM as catharsis. It’s a fascinating piece.

Welcome to love by amphigoric

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412866/chapters/53549794

Desire, Jiang Cheng learned, flourished even in love’s absence. It surged hot and fast through his veins at the sight of Nie Huaisang’s spread thighs, marks still lingering from the last rendezvous they had. He felt it burning through his chest as Huaisang raked lines down his back, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps: “Jiang Wanyin, Jiang Wanyin, please, please.”

It’s a little bit clumsy at times, but also very passionate and intense in a way I still find compelling. Featuring a lot of self sabotaging Jiang Cheng.

When your stitch comes loose by heyninja

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868454/chapters/68234434

Sometimes people see you for who you really are. Sometimes because you let them. Sometimes whether you like it or not.

A triptych of collisions between Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng.

Only the last part is post canon but it’s the most important part, isn’t it?

Peel your heart like a pomegranate by Izumi_silverleaf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458974

"It's an extraordinary feeling when parts of your body are touched for the first time. I'm thinking of the sensations from sex and surgery."

Sometimes you just need to read a very hot guro fic. It’s a weird fic but it’s a cool one.

If you give a Nie a cushion by LesbianLazerOwl

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470236

Prompt: Long enough After Canon that everyone's mostly okay these days, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang get drunk and wind up comparing masturbation habits; each is aghast at how the other spends their personal time.

Funny and hot

To Distraction by isozyme

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763816

It’s the third night of Yunmeng’s kite festival celebrations. Nie Huaisang has come visiting, eager to partake in the food, the arts, and Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng wants to forget. Nie Huaisang has some new lube and wants to see if he can put his whole fist in somebody’s ass.

Established pairing in which Nie Huaisang fists Jiang Cheng. It’s hot.

Safe in Your arms by Dragon_scribe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070503/chapters/74058315

In the aftermath of a night hunt gone (very) wrong, Jiang Cheng wakes up to find himself in the Unclean Realm. As he recovers from his injuries, he and Nie Huaisang grow closer and as time passes, their friendship begins to shift to something more.

Very sweet/sappy and hurt/comfort orientated, with a small bit of reconciliation dimension too.

#mo dao zu shi #sangcheng #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #fic recs

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hockeyforthefirsttime · 4 years ago

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Vince Dunn- Try Again Chapter 1

AN: here it is, chapter one to try again:) i hope people like it and that its not awful :I

word count: 2100 ( i think)

tw: i can’t think of any, but let me know

Other parts can be found here: Prequel

- Where do you want to meet?

Vince thinks it’s a pretty neutral text to send, even if he is pacing the kitchen floor after his gym session. He knows she just arrived in St. Louis and just finished unpacking while he was out, because she sent a text.

- Uhm.. the Starbucks near you?

The screen of his phone lights up with a pling, and a second message ticks in before he has the chance to respond.

- But I do warn you, you’re gonna have to come buy some books with me..

And that second, right that second, is when his brain starts spinning with a plan.

- Okay, I’ll be at Starbucks in like 15 minutes.

All she responds with is a thumbs up, and that’s okay by him. Quickly he runs into his room, and pulls out a t- shirt and a hoodie. Pulling them over his head, he makes sure that he has his wallet and phone, as well as keys.

It feels like a good day for walking, even if his legs feel like jello. He can’t decide if it’s from nerves of seeing her for the first time in two years or the gym session. Regardless, the sun is out and he likes the fresh, crisp air. It always tends to calm him down.

He enters the Starbucks and is struck by her all at once, even if her back is facing him. She has changed since the last time he saw her. She still wears hoodies, and he is pretty sure the vans on her feet are the same she had on when she walked out on him. But she has changed, she seems stronger both in posture and mind. The tiny slouch isn’t there anymore.

She walks over to the waiting area to get her drink made, and he can’t help but admire her. She has done something to her hair and it looks nice. And her smile, god it reaches her eyes, even if her mouth is covered by her mask. It always was a contagious smile.

When her name is called up from behind the serving station, he notes that she is carrying two to go cups.

“Hey Y/N, how are you?”

Vince calls out from behind his own mask. She looks around for the source of the voice and when she finds him, she reaches out one of the cups. He gratefully takes it.

“Hi Vince, I’m good, how are you?”

She asks as he pops the lid off of his cup. And it’s like she poured the coffee right down his throat and into his heart, because it’s the same one he always orders. He can’t believe she still remembers. She just smiles at him.

That’s the moment he decides to go for a careful hug, and he is grateful when she accepts it. When she has her head in his chest, he whispers.

“I’m good, I missed you though.”

And as the words leave his mouth, he feels her hand tighten around the fabric in his hoodie. His heart aches for her. For home. She has changed perfume, this one is not as heavy, but her hair still smells like apples.

She pulls away, and he follows suit.

“So, you wanna go book shopping? Or do you just wanna sit here?”

Y/N asks carefully, yet gallantly avoiding his admittance.

“Oh I could go for some books!”

He answers eagerly, and she shakes her head knowingly.

“You sure? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you read much more than a game plan.”

She chirps him lightly.

“Oh, just because I read people better than I read books, doesn’t mean I don’t read.”

He chirps back, as they head out the door, which Vince holds open for her. Y/N, too makes a few mental notes of how he has changed as well.

“So what kind of books are we looking for today, miss brainiac?”

He asks, trying to make conversation.

“Oh, just some academic stuff. Boring stuff.”

She shrugs, however she sounds a bit bitter saying the “boring” part. He can’t help but think that someone must have made her that reluctant to tell him, and maybe that person was his past self.

“You really don’t have to come.. you know that right?”

“I’m more than happy to come with you, makes me get off my ass.”

Vince smiles at her, bumping her lightly with his elbow. Y/N just smiles and shakes her head at him. She knows very well that he wishes it wouldn’t be too long.

What she doesn’t know is how grateful he is that she is willing to have him as a part of her life again. Even if it is a small part, he appreciates it.

They have been walking around Barnes and Noble for almost an hour, and even if his arms are just a little achy from carrying all the books she needs, he volunteered to carry them. Y/N is just picking up the last book before she comes back to him. He has been standing near the register and has admittedly been a little bored, so he started looking into the books in his arms. While they have some big words and translations that read a little heavily, he can’t help being a little fascinated with them. And the admiration for his ex grows, just a tad bit more than he cares to admit to.

“Okay, it’s just this one, and then I’m picking up a used one.”

She smiles at him, a genuine smile that reaches her eyes. And even if her bangs are a little all over the place, from her pulling her hand through it, she looks adorable.

“Good, you were taking forever.”

He jokes lightly, with a wink before getting in the line. They aren’t the only ones out here for university shopping, he can tell by the prices that are being rung up. He can remember spending that much on something, but fuck, it’s still a lot.

“Next, please.”

The girl behind the counter can’t be much older than them, she is pretty, with dark hazel eyes and a red flannel that contrasts beautifully with her dark hair.

“Hi, it’s these please.”

Y/N gestures to the books in Vince's arms, which he drops onto the counter, before he reaches behind himself and stretches his arms, discreetly taking out his wallet.

“Philosophy, are you taking Mrs. Hargroves' classes?”

The girl behind the counter asks, and before he knows it, the two girls are launching into conversation. Turns out both of them are going for the same degree. And while Vince isn’t jealous of the girl, he would love to carry those kinds of conversations with Y/N.

As soon as she is done scanning all the books, Vince is the one closest to the debit machine. Y/N doesn’t notice at once, but when she hears him scan his card and punch in the pin code to his card, she turns and looks at him.

“Vince.. outside please.”

She picks up the bag from the checkout girl, with a clenched jaw.

“Goodbye Jamie, see you in class then?”

The girl, Jamie, looks at Y/N with a sympathetic gaze as she nods and calls for the next customer.

Vince and Y/N walk out the door together, and he can hear her brain twisting and turning inside her pretty head. He has a gnawing feeling in his stomach about what she is thinking of.

They reach her car, a Toyota Rav4 as far as he can see, and get in after she has put her books in the trunk. He waits in the passenger seat, taking a look at the inside of the car. It’s a stick shift, and he lowkey finds it kind of hot, he isn’t gonna lie. He can’t find anything else noticeable about the car though, it seems like just another car. With a reusable water bottle in the cupholder, and a book and a backpack in the backseats. Before he can distract himself with something else, she gets into the driver's seat.

“Vince, why did you pay for my books.”

And he wishes he could answer at once, with a good convincing argument, but he can’t. So he just stays silent for a few seconds.

“Vince.”

She doesn’t sound angry, she just wants an answer. So he settles for honesty.

“Because you deserve it. Because I wanted to.”

She frowns, cause that is the reasoning he used when they dated as well.

“And why did you want to?”

He wasn’t ready for that question. Two years ago she would have told him how much she could provide for herself, how she didn’t need him like that. Now he knew that.

“I wanted to say sorry okay? For the way I treated you, for the way things ended. For everything.”

He reckons that she has to process it all, cause she twists the key in the ignition, takes off the handbrake and shifts the car into first gear. She hasn’t changed that much, she still drives to think.

“You don’t have to say sorry for everything you know. And we were two people in the relationship.”

Vince knows, god he knows, cause the relationship wasn’t always bad, there is a reason he misses her. He watches the roads in silence for a while, until she stops in front of an apartment complex.

“This is where you live?”

He asks as she kills the engine.

“No, I’m just gonna pick up a used book from this guy.”

Y/N answers abesentminly. She pulls eighty bucks from her wallet and exits the car. He slumps back in his seat, and subsequently jumps a bit when Y/N knocks on his window.

“You coming or what? I’m not gonna go up to some strange man’s apartment alone.”

And the little smile on his lips, the fact that he trusts him, makes his heart swell. He almost hopes that they’ll pretend to be dating, but neither does she take his hand nor does she hold him close in any sense of the word. He pulls a hand through his hair as she walks before him up the stairs and he can’t help himself from looking at her ass.

They reach the correct door, and she rings the bell. Him leaning against the railing, just observing. The man that opens the door is stunning. Dark eyes and dark skin, and a warm smile.

“Hey, You must be Y/N?”

And Vince gets his back off the railing, sauntering just two steps closer, not because he is scared, Vince is jealous goddamn it. Cause the only times Y/N plays with her hair is when she is stressed or flirting. She is definitely not stressed right now.

“Yeah, you got the book still? Carter”

“Of course, just gimme a sec and I’ll go get it.”

He smiles with a wink, a goddamn wink. While he eyes Vince carefully. Once he is out of earshot, Vince lets out a sigh.

“You good?”

Y/N asks carefully, turning around. But before he can form an intelligent reply Carter is back.

“Here you go, there are some notes in the margin, I hope you don’t mind.”

Carter says sheepishly.

“What is a book without notes?”

Y/N says as she hands him the eighty bucks.

“Exactly!”

But before they can carry their conversation any further, Vince casually looks at his wristwatch. Carter seems to get the hint though.

“Well, you should probably get going, it’s getting late. Catch you on campus?”

“Yeah, probably. I hope so, thanks for the book.”

And he knows she is smiling, ‘cause Carters smile widens.

In the car the silence is deafening, so Y/N puts on the radio some pop station and doesn’t care much more. It’s silent all the way back to Vince’s apartment. She stops the car and lowers the volume on the radio.

“You okay Vince?”

He doesn’t have to look at her to know she is looking at him. Her gaze is burning into his cheek.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

He answers, trying to sound okay.

“Cause you have been clenching your jaw the entire way hom, here.”

He catches the way she catches herself, and for once, he thinks, for once think of her before yourself.

“Oh yeah, just a headache.”

And he knows, god he knows she doesn’t believe him.

“Okay, try not clenching your jaw and drink some water when you get up okay?”

He just nods.

“Thanks for meeting me by the way. I really appreciate it.”

Y/N says, and he bites his tongue, especially when she puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Me too. Talk to you later?”

“Definitely.”

#vince dunn #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn fic #vince dunn angst #ince dunn fluff #st louis blues imagine #st louis blues #st louis blues fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl angst #nhl fluff

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wisherbysharlight · 4 years ago

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Give Up, Give In, Check The Grin You’re In Love

Word Count: 5254 Relationships: Endgame LAMP, with focuses on each pairing Description: One lazy Saturday morning, Virgil's tired and not thinking straight(not that he ever is) and does something on instinct that sets the gears in motion for what could possibly be happily ever after for our four boys. (Spoiler Alert: It's Lots Of Kisses and It Absolutely Is Happily Ever After) Loosely a Prequel to "Can't Deny It, Who You Are Is How You're Feeling" but can absolutely be read as a standalone. Started as a bunch of prompts from a prompt list. AO3 Thank you @rosesisupposes for betaing this fluffy monster and also being my hype person and keeping me somewhat sane. You’re the bestestestest.

Saturday mornings were Patton's favorite. Everyone was home, there was a strict order that nothing needed to happen before 11, and it was the one day Logan wouldn't put up a fuss about sugary donuts instead of a "balanced breakfast." Patton still woke up early, as a force of habit, but he could curl up on the couch with a blanket cocoon and a strawberry frosted donut and watch cartoons until the others made their way downstairs.

Logan came down first, making a beeline for the coffee machine, and Patton hid a smirk behind his blanket when Logan attempted to be sneaky about his excitement while grabbing a jam filled donut. He settled into an armchair in the corner with his laptop, and the two stayed in companionable silence.

Roman stumbled out of his room next, not even remotely put together yet without his usual latte, and he was still staring blearily at the espresso machine dripping into his mug when Virgil came out and went straight for the couch and laid down with his head on Patton's lap and fell back asleep.

The peace wasn't designed to last, though, as much as Patton wanted to stay combing his fingers through his friend's hair forever. Once Roman had had his coffee and retreated to his room to get ready for the day, he returned to the living room, sitting crosslegged under the coffee table and setting up his knitting. His laughter at the show was soon echoing through the room and it made Virgil start to stir, groaning and stretching as he sat up.

Patton cheerfully handed him the other strawberry frosted donut he'd saved just for this moment, "Morning Virge! Welcome to the land of the living!"

"Mm thanks, mornin' Pat," Virge said as he took the donut, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to Patton's lips, and Patton could practically feel the way everything around him seemed to freeze.

Roman had halted mid-stitch and Logan was trying to look like he hadn't seen anything but was definitely flickering his eyes between them and his laptop. Patton just smiled and patted Virgil's cheek, then went back to watching his show, not wanting to make a big deal of it, but he could tell the other two were extremely tense. Virgil was still sleepy, and Patton didn't want to freak him out before he was really awake.

Everyone could tell the second it hit Virgil. It was about an hour later, donuts long gone, Logan having moved on to his sudoku book, Roman halfway through what looked like a magnificent shawl, and the show changed into whatever Disney movie was on at the time when Virgil suddenly sat straight up from where he'd been leaning on Patton's shoulder, "Did I...?"

Patton giggled a bit and nodded, the other two looking in other directions in a way that was anything but subtle, "Yeah, honey. You did." Virgil went bright red, then grabbed a throw pillow to bury his face in and screech. He then carefully lowered it, peeking over the top at Patton, "Well, um, you didn't run away screaming, huh?"

"I did not," Patton said, grinning, then reached up to tug at the pillow, "And if you put that silly thing down we can definitely talk about why I didn't run away screaming, hmm?"

"I'm going to my room," Logan announced stiffly, then practically sprinted away, leaving his laptop behind. Roman nodded, eyes shining in a way Patton did not like at all and gathered his yarn up, following quickly, and well, Patton would have to worry about that later he supposed. Virgil lowered the pillow slowly, looking like he would rather be anywhere else, "So. That happened."

"It did. And I don't know about you, but I liked it," Patton told him, taking his hand, "I like you."

"Me too," Virgil told him, and it seemed like the floodgates had opened, "It just felt... right. Was comfortable. I wanted to for a long time before this, wanted-" He trailed off, going white as a sheet.

Patton watched him carefully, then recognized something in his look and squeezed his hand, "Wanted what honey?"

"Wanted to kiss all of you," he admitted quietly, and Patton smiled again.

"Well this is not how I planned to go about this," Patton started, and Virgil winced, which made Patton quickly squeeze his hand again, "Nono honey, you didn't do anything wrong. I want you to know - you are absolutely enough for me, ok? And I like you, not as a part of a whole but as a whole person yourself. But I think we have some common interests here. And maybe, just maybe, we can make those mutual hopes something real."

Virgil blinked at him, stunned, for a few long moments, then broke out in a smile so bright Patton felt like he needed sunglasses, "You get it. Oh my god, you understand, I was so worried I fucked it all up. That-that you would think I was being greedy."

"Not at all. We've all been through so much together, and all love each other so much. And that won't change, alright, even if just you and I, or three of us, or all four of us work out. But I think we need to check up on our other roommates, hmm, before we start jumping too far?" Patton asked, and Virgil nodded and leaned in to kiss him again, this time fully cognizant of what he was doing.

Patton cupped his cheek and pulled him in closer, lips parting a bit on a gasp, and Virgil brought his hands up to cling to Patton's shoulders, and, well, it it was a few more minutes before either of them could pull away from each other, and only then it was with a mission in mind - They had to make sure their roommates knew they loved them no matter what. And that they didn't need to run away.

⁂(Gang, Let’s Split Up)⁂

Patton and Virgil eventually calmed themselves down enough to sit next to each other and discuss what the next steps actually were. They mutually agreed they should probably split up, and also that Virgil had the best chance of getting through to Logan and Patton a good shot at Roman. They parted with one more kiss, unable to help themselves, and a whispered I like you a lot before heading off in their separate directions, Patton with a cup of hot chocolate and Virgil with Logan's laptop. Patton knocked in a specific sequence he and Roman had come up with long ago. Four short knocks, then a pause and another two, morse code for "Hi." Roman opened the door slightly, not letting Patton in like he normally would, and Patton felt a piece of his heart chip right off, "Hey Pat, I'm fine."

"Ro, you have to know that starting a conversation with 'I'm fine' means you're really, really not," Patton chided, wedging his foot in the door, "Please let me in? I have sugar and hugs!"

Roman sighed heavily but opened the door. Good, he wasn't going to be too stubborn about it then. Patton held the mug up, keeping his smile plastered on, "It's the good hot chocolate, with whole milk and marshmallows." Roman took the cup with a wry smile and stood to the side to let Patton in the room, where he promptly sat down on the edge of the bed and bounced a bit to get comfortable,

"I really am fine Pat. Happy for you. Knew you and angst-lord had a thing for each other forever. I just need to get used to it," Roman said, settling in next to Patton and taking a sip of the drink, probably in an attempt to hide the grimace that took over as he said it.

"Sure we have," Patton chirped, and Roman's grimace intensified, "But you wanna tell me why you have to 'get used' to anything? Do we make you uncomfortable?"

"No!" Roman burst out, then shut his mouth with a click and a sheepish frown, "Uh, I mean, no you don't have to worry about me being freaked out, or anything like that, it's my own issues I must get over."

"What issues are those?" Patton pressed, scooching a little closer, "Maybe I can help?"

Roman sighed, swirling his mug and making the marshmallows spin around the top, "I don't think you can really help, not with this Pat. I'm not gonna rain on your happiness."

"Try me," Patton pushed again, and inched even closer, so their knees were touching, and Roman looked down at them with a creased brow.

"I don't know!" Roman spat like a curse, then scowled down at his drink, "I just - I saw you and Virgil and you looked so happy and I knew I should be happy for you two but I just couldn't."

"And why is that?" Patton asked gently, taking the mug from Roman and leaving it on the side table next to him. Roman just continued to frown, not meeting his eyes, so Patton put one warm hand on his cheek to turn his face towards him, "Is it because you wanted it too?"

Roman blinked at him, stock still like he'd been frozen solid and eyes wide in alarm, and Patton gave him a gentle smile, "Cuz if so, the feeling is mutual." He leaned in, slow as water dripping down an icicle, but Roman didn't move, so he pressed his lips against his still prominent pout, just lightly, still giving him a chance to pull back if he wanted to.

Roman stayed frozen for a bit, but he sunk into it shortly, frown fading as his lips molded to Patton's. Patton made a little noise, right in the back of his throat, and Roman jumped back like he'd been burned, hissing out, "What about Virgil?"

Patton tried to blink away the haziness from the kiss, "Ro, Virgil knows, that's what I meant by 'it's mutual'. We love each other, but we love you and Logan too."

"All of us?" Roman breathed, barely more than mouthing the words, then again, louder, "All of us? We can- That's - that can happen?"

Patton giggled a bit, still a little dazed, and nodded excitedly, mirroring Roman's, "Yeah! All of us, together. I mean, if that's what you want? I'm sure Virgil will understand if you wanted it to be just me and you, and me and him..."

"No!" Roman cried out again, "No, I, uh, I definitely want both of you. And, uh, and Logan too. I just- I didn't know that was an option, oh my god, how did I miss this?"

Patton scooched closer again now that he knew Roman was on board, "It's ok, honey, we all missed it I think. I didn't even think of it til Virgil accidentally mentioned being attracted to you two too."

Roman leaned in closer too, eyes alight, "He did? Really?"

"Mmhmm," Patton hummed, bringing his hand back up to Roman's cheek with a little bit of mischief in his eyes, "And I told him that I felt the same way."

"Did you now?" Roman crooned back, a bit of a tease in his voice as he fed off Patton's energy, "And I assume you rushed right up here to tell me? Didn't take your time or anything?"

"Weeeellll," Patton teased back, "I could lie and say that, but I'd much rather show you what we were doing. You know, while we wait for Virgil to finish talking to Logan." And with that he leaned back in, and this time Roman met him in the middle, and this time when Patton keened, Roman most certainly did not pull away.

⁂(Across the House)⁂

Virgil headed up to Logan's room on the third floor, and he didn't have to knock because his door was wide open and he was scribbling furiously in a notebook. "Hey L, you, uh, forgot this? When you ran away?" Virgil greeted, never one to pull his punches, and put his laptop down on the desk before leaning against it, "What was that about, by the way?"

Logan huffed, but his ears turned red, "I simply wanted to provide you and Patton with some privacy in which to allow the flow of honest communication. I am told that is important in budding relationships."

"Cool, cool, yeah we had a good talk," Virgil stated, watching Logan carefully, noting the way his fist tightened on his pen and his jaw clenched. "Talked about me, and him, and us, and you-" Logan's head shot up and Virgil arched one brow casually, "Something wrong?"

"Why would I come up in a conversation regarding your relationship with Patton?" Logan demanded, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice, and Virgil smirked a bit, then crossed his legs and drummed his fingers against the desktop. Jackpot.

"You're smart. Guess," Virgil told him, aimlessly flipping through a book next to him, "Why would we talk about you, in the terms of our relationship, and then I would come up here, alone, to talk to you."

"Well I would assume Patton would go to talk to Roman-" Logan cut himself off, and Virgil could practically see the wheels turning, "Hmm. Interesting."

Virgil grinned at him, then nudged his ankle with his foot, "Catching up?"

"Yes quite. You're here to warn me against pursuing Patton," Logan said with a decisive nod and Virgil's face fell immediately.

"What? No, Logan, I'm here for the opposite reason," Virgil told him, dropping his confident persona, "Logan, I came up here because we both love you and Roman too."

Logan shook his head briskly, “No. No that can not possibly be true.” Virgil felt the distinct urge to shake him, “Patton I understand, he is brightness and cookies in the oven and comfort even on the worst of days. Roman, I understand, he is poetry and music and watching a movie for the hundredth time but never feeling like it gets old. You, I understand, you are mysteries and late nights and the adrenaline rush of a spirited debate about things that do not truly matter. I have nothing to offer in terms of romance, and I am aware of -“

Virgil couldn’t take it anymore. He straddled Logan’s chair, careful to make sure he did not put his full weight on his knees, and threaded his fingers into his hair, bringing his face close until his mouth was a hairs breadth away, “How can you say all that and not think you’re romantic Logan? God, Lo, you’re the most romantic person I know, including Princey. When I told you I couldn’t muster the attention span to read anymore, you made me a library of audiobooks that I quite possibly will never get through, and I loved every single one. Patton may be comfort, and Roman may be adventure, and I may be excitement, but you are the lighthouse in the bay which keeps us all on the right path.”

Logan latched his fingers onto the sleep shirt Virgil was still wearing, because it was Saturday Morning still and that meant PJs until such time as a situation necessitated Real Clothes, and latched onto Virgil’s mouth with an almost desperate abandon, and Virgil’s hands tightened in Logan’s curls, and both their lips parted at the same time on a shared breath that mingled between them. Logan pressed up even further, nipped at Virgil’s lip, and Virgil couldn’t have stopped the strangled noise that crawled out of his throat if he wanted to. “Well, Patton, I think it’s pretty safe to assume we don’t need to help Virgil with convincing Mr. Perry,” an amused voice came from behind them, and Logan and Virgil reluctantly separated, trying to catch their breaths while still tangled together.

Patton’s voice was equally amused, “I think you may be right Ro. How bout we all head back downstairs to talk?”

⁂ (Switcheroo) ⁂

Virgil smiled at Logan, then turned to Patton and winked, "I'll take Princey downstairs first. You talk to our resident genius, k? He's feelin' like he's less romantic than the rest of us, and I have a feeling you've got something to say about that."

Patton grinned back, and pressed a kiss to Virgil's cheek as he passed, teasing lightly, "Be nice to Roman," before he went over to sit on the edge of Logan's bed just the same way he had with Roman, "Wanna talk about it?"

"No need, Virgil rather, erm, thoroughly, let me know that there was a place for me should I want it," Logan stated, and shoved his glasses up his nose, a nervous habit Patton had picked up on over their 3 years living together.

"K, but do you?" Patton asked genuinely, and Logan tilted his head curiously.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want it?" Patton clarified and Logan came up short, blinking at him with nothing short of incredulity.

Logan took a deep breath like he was about to start a spiel, then closed his mouth like he had the wind pulled out of his sails. He moved over to the bed and grasped Patton's hand like a lifeline, "If you think that I would rather be anywhere than with you all, then I have something to apologize for."

Patton laughed a bit, though there was a nervous tinge to it, and crossed one of his legs over Logan's, "That so?"

"Very much so. I would need you to cite every occurrence which led you to believe this to be true so I could rectify it immediately," Logan told him, in an attempt to add some levity to the weight of the atmosphere between them.

Patton hooked their ankles together and leaned in, brushing their noses together lightly, his voice clearly holding his laughter back, "And how would you do that, Mr. Perry."

Logan rubbed his nose against Patton's in return, then pressed a kiss to where his nose just was, "Well, Mr. Hart, I would start by improving upon my life's mission to put a smile on your face every single day."

"That'd be pretty easy, Lolo," Patton teased, brushing a hand up Logan's arm and making him shiver, "Since you can make my day better just be being there." He punctuated his declaration with a brush of his lips over one cheek, "Just by being you," the other cheek now, "And you can make it even better if you agree to be our boyfriend." He finally pressed a kiss to Logan's lips, just a peck really, and Logan flushed brighter than he ever thought was possible.

"You don't have to convince me," Logan breathed, and his grip tightened on the sheets beneath him.

Patton chuckled again, curling one finger through Logan's hair as cooed, "You sure? Cuz I can definitely do more convincing," and pressed another soft kiss to Logan's lips.

Logan swallowed thickly, "You are a minx, Patton Hart. We told the others we would be downstairs."

Patton straightened up and grabbed onto Logan's hand, "You're right, you're right. Can't go getting distracted just cuz you're so darn cute I can't take it."

"Patton," Logan whined, but he still followed the tug on his arm to the door, "You can't just say things like that, especially when you are infinitely more adorable than I am."

"You sure you don't mean.. " Patton grinned like the cat that got the canary.

Logan's eyes narrowed in warning, "Don't you dare Patton."

"Infinitesimally," Patton darted out the way as Logan made a grab for his vulnerable sides with a playful growl, laughing brightly, "Ok ok! I take it back! I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are," Logan sighed, then when Patton relaxed, pinched at his hip to make him yelp and giggle, letting out a bit of a laugh of his own because the sound just couldn't help but be mirrored, "That's what you get, you brat."

"Your brat," Patton singsonged, then took Logan's hand again, "C'mon we have two more boyfriends to find, yeah?"

⁂ (Spongebob Announcer Voice - Meanwhile) ⁂

Virgil was still a bit unsteady on his feet as he and Roman headed for the stairs. Roman went down first, and when Virgil slipped a bit on a step with a little bit of a gasp he spun quickly and grabbed onto his waist to hold him upright before he could fall, and suddenly they were face to face. Now, normally, Roman was about an inch taller, but with the difference in steps, Virgil had two inches on him and Roman ended up having to look up through his lashes just to make eye contact, "Ok, Princey, that's just not fair."

Roman gave him a salacious grin, then pulled an exaggerated simpering face with pouty lips and batting eyelashes, "What, that the nerd knocked you so off kilter that you can't even walk straight and needed a knight in shining armor to save you from your imminent doom?"

Virgil flushed brightly, shoving at Roman's shoulder, "Ugh you're such an ass, it's like two steps from the bottom, even I know the worst risk was a bruised tailbone. I can't believe I like you."

"You don't just like me, according to Patton," Roman teased, and his hands moved so he was wrapping his arms around his waist rather than just holding on, "You really like me, maybe even love me."

Virgil switched tactics quickly, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he draped his own arms over Roman's shoulders, "And what if I do, huh? What're you gonna do about it, being the self-described Prince of Romance and all?"

Roman's eyes went wide and dark but Virgil only had a moment to be proud of himself for being able to catch all three of the men he adored off guard today before Roman was surging up to press their lips together with a hunger that spoke more about the duration of longing between them than words ever could.

Virgil lost himself in it a moment before his mind immediately tried to compare it to the other kisses he'd had today. Patton kissed like he had all the time in the world and if he could spend it all kissing you he absolutely would. Logan kissed like he could find all the answers to the universe in your lips if he just kept trying. Roman - Roman was no less languid, but no less passionate, and the combination gave Virgil the feeling like he'd been asleep for years without realizing it, only to be woken up by the spark Roman lit up inside of him. He felt complete.

They didn't separate, not really. No, Virgil leaned down to grab at Roman's thighs and hike them up around his waist, and Roman switched to holding onto Virgil's shoulders without missing a beat, like they'd been doing this dance for years rather than minutes. And Virgil really should have known he and Roman would just be easy - they were fire and ice, they balanced each other, and coming together felt as natural as rainfall. Virgil sat on the same spot on the couch where this all started, and Roman adjusted in his lap all without breaking from their kiss. There were only two things in the world which could make them resurface, and they didn't come downstairs for five more minutes, looking rumpled and flushed themselves.

Roman finally unlatched from Virgil's shirt and grinned down at him, "That 'Romance' enough for you, Virgie?" and Virgil shoved him off his lap onto the couch as he cackled at the dumbstruck look on his face.

Virgil turned playfully pleading eyes towards Logan and Patton, "You gotta save me. He's insufferable."

"Roman are you being mean to Virgil?" Patton asked, a bit of Dad Voice leaking in, and Virgil's "Yes!" warred with Roman's laugh-strangled "No" in answer.

Virgil crossed his arms and sunk into the couch and grumbled, "He's teasing me, Pat."

Surprisingly Logan was the one to detach from Patton and head over to the two on the couch with a thoughtful hum, "That so? What for?"

"Because he was mocking me for being a Romantic and I showed him what that really meant and he got a little flustered," Roman told him easily, "It's not teasing if it's true."

"I just so happened to give him one of the best kisses of his short life," he continued, and Virgil snorted.

"Ok now you're just bragging, you ass," Virgil whined, though notably he did not say anything to the contrary, and Logan raised one brow before turning to Roman.

"Interesting," he said plainly, then swiftly dropped to the seat next to Roman and pulled him in by the neck to press their lips together, and Roman's hands flailed at his sides wildly in surprise before he finally settled them at his sides.

Logan pulled back after a few seconds and gave the same hum again as Roman blinked blearily at him, "I'd rank it around a 6 out of 10."

Roman gaped at him, making a sound of complete outrage, starting to bluster about how it "wasn't a fair trial" and "you caught me by surprise!" and Logan could only hold his serious face for about 30 seconds before the shit-eating grin revealed itself and both Patton and Virgil broke out laughing. Roman threw his arms up, "I take everything back! I don't want to date any of you, you're all rude."

Logan gave a little laugh and Roman's bravado deflated as he couldn't help but smile back, but he still had a bit of a spark to him, a glint to his eye, "Not the best, hmm? Wanna take that to the bank?"

"I hardly expect banks to take kisses as currency, Roman," Logan said, eyeing him suspiciously.

Virgil chuckled, recognizing the look of Princey in Challenge Mode from earlier, "Not what he means, Lo."

"What-"

Roman swooped back in, this time bracing himself with one arm wrapped over the back of the couch and one cupping Logan's cheek so softly Logan could barely feel it unless he were to lean into the touch himself. Roman kissed him softly, sensually, parting with a small pass of his teeth over Logan's bottom lip and a barely there brush of lips that left Logan wanting more. They both turned when they heard a small noise, and saw Virgil wrapped up in Patton's arms with Patton's reddened face pressed into his neck and his own lips parted on what must have been the whimper they'd heard. Patton picked his head up in the silence and his bright smile was enough to cut through the tension, "So I think it's safe to say we're all pretty compatible, hmm?" and the other three broke into light laughter that echoed through the rest of the house.

⁂ (An indeterminate amount of time later aka epilogue) ⁂

Patton just needed to fix this one last hem, and he would be done, he promised himself, but honestly, with the hem done, the weights needed to be sewn on, and with the weights sewn on, the skirt needed to be spin tested and…

"Pat? Honey? It's Saturday afternoon and you've been in here all day," Roman chided, then leaned back against the desk in the room they'd set aside as Patton's home studio.

Patton looked up at Roman and squinted, "That can't possibly be right."

"Yeah, Pattycakes, it's Saturday," Virgil told him gently as he entered, wrapping his arms around Patton's waist.

Logan chimed in as he finally entered last, and Patton was feeling a little like he was being ganged up on, "I am positive you you'll get it done. Saturday is our day though. We only get you for one a week."

"I just need to-" Patton started, only to be interrupted by a kiss to his cheek by Roman. He blinked, then tried again, "Need to-" Nope, this time Virgil, just behind his ear. "To-" Logan, coming in with a peck to the lips, then another, and this one deeper, and- "Guys, I'm feeling a bit ambushed here. I need to get this done."

"No you don't, you need to have it done by Tuesday. You have plenty of time. You're giving Logan a run for his money on the perfectionism front," Virgil explained, running a gentle hand up and down Patton's side.

Patton shivered, leaning into him almost on habit, already knowing he'd lost, but putting up a bit of a fight was half the fun, "Come on fellas..."

"Nope, you're taking a break," Roman insisted, taking the skirt from Patton's hands gently, "We positively insist."

Logan made significant eye contact with Virgil over Patton's head and in a moment Patton was passed from Virgil's arms to be wrapped up into Logan's, where he got another soft but alluring kiss, "We will not hesitate to convince you we are the better option than fabric and pin pricks, my dear."

Patton giggled a bit, patting Logan's chest since his shoulder was a bit of a stretch, "That so? What'll y'all do?"

Logan lifted Patton easily, and Patton wrapped his arms around Logan's neck, "First of all, we would exploit the fact that you enjoy being carried."

Patton laughed again, a little bit brighter, "That so? What next?"

"We'd bring you down the hall," Virgil told him as he guided the pair through the doorway, "And show you the UPDF."

"UPDF?" Patton asked curiously, then was unceremoniously dumped into a stack of pillows that nearly swallowed him whole.

"Ultimate Patton Distraction Fortress, constructed to improve upon a thus-far-ineffective-at-distraction Living Room," Roman declared, then fell back into the pillows next to him with a distinctive thump.

Patton rolled over at Roman's gentle prodding to curl into his chest, looking up at him through his lashes, "And what does this UPDF contain that makes it more effective?"

"Oh simple really, Part 1) Logan has lifted his sugar-for-dinner ban as we informed him it is not technically dinner if it's Linner because someone forgot to eat lunch," Roman informed him, gesturing to the coffee table where a stack of chocolate chip waffles lay waiting.

"Part 2, you've already so cleverly discovered, is the optimal cuddling arrangement of pillows and blankets," Logan continued as he wedged himself in along Roman's side and began brushing his fingers through Patton's hair, which he immediately and predictably melted into.

"Part 3," Virgil added with a thump of his own, curling into Roman's other side and leaning in close to peck Patton's nose, "And what we think may be the key, is all the kisses you can possibly take."

Patton swallowed thickly, and his eyes darkened even as they shone more brightly. "Y'all think you're up for as many kisses as I can take? Cuz that is... a lot of kisses...." he whispered as he leaned into Virgil, one hand holding on tight to Roman's shirt and the other grasping behind him for Logan's hand. "We could be here a long time," he grinned, lips brushing Virgil's as he spoke, "Possibly all night."

"Oh what a tragedy," Logan attempted to deadpan, but his voice had that breathy quality to it, and that made Roman's voice hitch as he went, "Yep, sure, totally cool with that." And, well....

The waffles needed to be warmed up, and by the time they got to the list of movies Roman had queued up they were all asleep before the end credits rolled.

#ts lamp #sanders sides fic #moxiety #royality #analogical #logicality #prinxiety #logince #fluffy fluff fluff #lemme know if you want more for this verse?#i have #soooo many headcanons

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earliebirb · 4 years ago

Note

From the prompt list: 5) “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” For stevetony w/jealous steve, please, if you feel up for it? ☺️

Hi there, thank you for the prompt and sorry for the long wait!

This is 2k of no powers/bodyguard au that can be read as a standalone fic or a prequel to this fic of mine, as the two fics are set in the same universe. I feel obligated to warn you that although this one is fluffy, the linked fic contains angst with an unhappy ending (which I may or may not end up fixing with a happy ending eventually). I didn’t even plan to add another fic in the same universe, and yet here we are. I just love the concept of young heir!tony and bodyguard!steve too much, I guess.

Enjoy! :)

TL;DR: click here for part 2 of this no powers/bodyguard au (warning: linked fic contains unhappy ending.)

a fool for you

steve/tony, fluff, au: no powers, bodyguard!steve, young!tony, 2204 words

(5 from this list)

“It’s so hot out here,” Tony groans, using the collar of his shirt to fan himself.

“Well, would you rather be in there with them?” Pepper nods at the general direction of the mansion, where he knows his and Pepper’s parents are still sitting together in the dining room.

Tony makes a face. “No.”

He wants to be as far away from them as possible.

The two of them escaped to the garden just before dessert. This has become a routine of some sort, something they always do during the monthly lunches their parents insist on having ever since they arranged their marriage contract. Tony knows the only reason they are allowed to get away with it is because their parents think that it’s good for Tony and Pepper to spend some time alone, to get to know each other before their marriage.

An arranged marriage. Seriously, Tony’s life is one huge cosmic joke.

Don’t get him wrong; Tony adores Pepper. She is one of his best friends and they have practically known each other since they were in diapers, but they definitely don’t see each other that way. Pepper has little to no interest in dating, and Tony is—

Well, Tony’s heart has been very much occupied by someone else for quite some time now.

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I’m telling you, Pep, it’s so hard to figure him out. I just never know what he’s thinking.” Tony leans back in his seat with a sigh, the rigid wood of the bench digging into his spine.

“He is so gone on you, it’s ridiculous.” Pepper fans herself with a folding fan. As usual, Pepper looks well put together despite the weather, dressed in a white eyelet dress that looks lovely on her and her hair up in a neat ponytail.

“But how can you tell?”

“I just can. Trust me. Have I ever let you down?”

“Well, no, but…” Tony trails off, looking into the distance. His eyes land on Steve, who is stationed far away from the bench Tony and Pepper are sitting on, with rows and rows of the red and yellow tulips of the Potts family estate’s garden separating the distance between them.

His blond hair gleams golden under the scorching heat of the sun. The man is standing straight, hands clasped in front of him. Tony wonders if Steve has always had perfect posture or if it is something he cultivated in his training as a bodyguard. Steve must also be suffering under the heat, dressed in the mandatory dress code for bodyguards of the Stark family—a black and white suit that fits him like a dream. Tony is sitting on a bench under the shade of an umbrella, and even his shirt is already sticking unpleasantly to the skin of his back, damp with sweat.

“Just look at him. He’s always so proper and polite,” Tony grumbles.

“Well, can you blame him? It is his job.”

Tony pouts at that, even as he knows that Pepper is right, like she always is. It’s just that he knows how improper and impolite Steve can be. Steve is hilarious when he wants to be; he has demonstrated his dry humor multiple times in front of Tony. Granted, it is usually only on display when he is in the company of Tony and the other guys in the security detail with no one else around or when he and Tony are alone. The thought of those moments brings a smile to Tony’s lips. Those secret moments are when Steve allows himself to relax, his real personality bleeding into his job persona.

He turns to watch Steve again. Steve is looking down at the ground, a hand pressed to the earpiece Tony knows he wears in his left ear. Tony watches as Steve nods almost imperceptibly before raising his wrist to his lips, speaking to the microphone resting inside his sleeve. When he finishes, he lowers his wrist back to his side. He looks up and meets Tony’s eyes by accident.

Tony stills and stops breathing.

Steve holds his gaze for a few moments before looking away almost immediately, reverting back to his previous posture.

Tony slumps in his seat, dejected. Pepper slaps his back with her folded fan and Tony yelps, straightening his back immediately.

“Don’t slouch. What time is the party again?”

“Seven, but you know me. I like to be fashionably late. Besides, no one can say anything about me being late tonight because I am the birthday boy. The party only starts when I arrive. Then again, that is also true for any other party.” Tony winks. “What did you get me?”

Pepper shrugs, not giving him an answer.

Tony narrows his eyes before gasping dramatically, a hand on his chest. “Pepper Pot, did you even get me anything?”

Pepper rolls her eyes.

“Why?” Pepper deadpans. “Is it your birthday?”

***

“I’ve called Happy. Car will be here in fifteen,” Bucky says as he arrives at Steve’s side. Steve nods.

Anthony Stark and Virginia Potts are casually chatting on a bench in the distance, looking like two completely normal 24-year-olds instead of the heirs to two of the most powerful companies in the world, Stark Industries and Potts Enterprises. With the way Stark behaves sometimes, Bucky tends to forget that the man has a net worth of a couple billion dollars.

Catching sight of the man behind them, Bucky snickers. Sam looks calm and collected as he stands behind the bench to hold an umbrella over Stark and Potts’ heads, but Bucky knows that he is going to complain about his sore arm to Bucky later.

“Look at Wilson. Poor bastard. He hates umbrella duty.” Bucky’s smirk widens an inch when he catches Sam’s gaze, the latter widening his eyes dramatically. “Also, what’s with the sudden switch? I know it’s your turn for umbrella duty today and you never give up umbrella duty ‘cause it gives you a chance to ogle at Stark’s ass.”

Bucky turns to face Steve when his friend and commander-in-chief says nothing in reply. Steve always reprimands him whenever Bucky teases him about his gigantic crush on Tony Stark, something about “protocol” and Bucky being “inappropriate”.

Steve is staring at Stark and Potts with unbridled focus. To the untrained eye, it may look like Steve is just doing his job of guarding his client but Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is doing The Clench and—

“Wait a minute, are you jealous?” Bucky gasps, part scandalized, part incredulous. “Is that why you asked Wilson to switch with you?”

Steve’s head snaps upright and he turns to Bucky with wide eyes.

“No,” he says, sounding equally as scandalized, but the way his eyes slide away as soon as they meet Bucky’s is telling. Ever since he was little, Steve has always been a terrible liar.

“Stevie.” Bucky gawks at him, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve never seen you moon over someone like this before. You weren’t even this bad with Peggy Carter back in high school.”

“I’m not mooning over anyone,” Steve says through gritted teeth. “Fix your posture.”

Bucky snorts, but clasps his hands in front of him obediently.

“I keep telling you, you should tell him how you feel.”

“Stop talking nonsense. It’s against protocol,” Steve says, eyes once again staring longingly at Stark, who is listening attentively to whatever Potts is saying.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “As if Stark ever cared about that.”

Just when Bucky thinks that the conversation is dead, just like the million other times Steve has shut Bucky down whenever he attempts to talk some sense into his best friend, Steve says in a quiet voice:

“Besides… they’re engaged.”

Bucky sighs in exasperation, refusing the increasingly strong urge to bash his own head against the nearest tree. They have gone over this exact problem countless of times.

He loves Steve like a brother, but never let it be said that the man is not stubborn.

Bucky opens his mouth to protest some more, but then Happy announces that he is entering the estate’s premises and Steve begins barking orders into his microphone to prepare the team for mobilization.

***

Tony loosens the tie around his neck as he steps into his bedroom, sighing in relief. If it were up to him he would have left the party hours ago, but alas, being the birthday boy comes with its own responsibilities. The older he gets, the more his birthday feels less like a day to celebrate his birth and more like a day to mingle with his father’s business associates. The fact that his glad-handing skills have practically been hardwired into him by now is his only saving grace. Well, that and…

Turning around, he finds Steve standing at the doorway of his bedroom. Tony waits for the obligatory ‘Would that be all, Mr. Stark?’ and is surprised when it doesn’t come immediately. Having Steve by his side throughout the entire night was Tony’s favorite part about his birthday bash. Tony absolutely lives for the minute twitches of Steve’s lips whenever Tony whispers witty quips and insults about various high-profile people mingling around him at every public event, and tonight was no exception.

As much as Tony enjoys Steve’s company, however, he is also well aware that Steve must be exhausted. After all, as tiring as the event was for Tony, it was still his birthday party. Steve, on the other hand, was dutifully doing his job of shadowing Tony and looking out for potential threats.

Tony is about to dismiss him for the night when he is suddenly struck with the realization that Steve is... hovering.

“Steve?”

“Sir,” Steve says in reply, back straightening immediately. His eyes are wide and he opens his mouth once before closing it again without saying a word. He looks like he has something to say and is struggling to work out a way to say it.

“Tony,” Tony corrects automatically as there is no one else in the room but them, but otherwise he says nothing, waiting patiently for Steve to gather his thoughts.

“Tony, I…” Steve trails off. Tony watches in amazement as Steve’s fists clench and unclench at his side, a rare sight for a person who is usually so graceful and poised. He lurches forward, walking towards Tony before stopping in front of him.

With his eyes trained on the floor, Steve fishes out a slim black box from his breast pocket and holds it out to Tony.

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. “Is this…?”

Steve looks up and finally meets his eyes, jaw clenched in determination.

“Happy birthday, Tony.”

Tony reaches out to take the box, his fingers brushing Steve’s.

“Can I open it?”

Steve nods with a swallow. Gazing down at the box, Tony opens it carefully and takes a deep breath the second he sees what is lying inside—a beautiful red tie, made of some soft fabric that seems to gleam under the moonlight streaming in through the windows of Tony’s bedroom. He unfolds it to admire the tie in its entirety.

Something flutters in his stomach when he sees the gold monogram sewn into the tip of the necktie. Tony traces the initials ‘A. E. S.’ reverently with his index finger.

“Steve.”

“Do you… like it?” Steve asks, watching Tony with trepidation.

Tony beams at him. “I love it. Thank you.”

A reluctant smile appears on Steve’s face, even as the man scratches the back of his neck with an air of bashfulness.

“I know it’s not much and I know you’ve already received lots of gifts. Better and more expensive ones. It certainly is no golden cufflinks, but I—”

That gets Tony’s attention.

“Golden cufflinks?”

“Uh, I mean— I might have seen, um, the golden cufflinks Ms. Potts got you, and I know—”

Tony barks out a surprised laugh, realization dawning.

Confusion takes over Steve’s face, his eyebrows furrowing adorably.

“Why are you laughing?”

Tony takes a step closer to Steve, grabbing the knot of Steve’s tie and pulling Steve down to his height.

Steve’s blue eyes are staring back at him, pupils blown wide with shock. Tony gazes at him intently, lips tugged upwards in a helpless smile as his heart swells with affection.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous, you know that?” Tony says, standing on tiptoe to plant a soft kiss on Steve’s forehead. He releases Steve afterwards, stepping backwards.

Steve proceeds to stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, mouth ajar and breath coming out in ragged pants. A delightful blush blooms on his cheeks.

Tony bites his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. Then he raises his eyebrows, saying:

“Well, you’re dismissed. Thank you for the birthday gift.”

Tony watches in amusement as Steve flounders to regain his composure. Eventually, he gives Tony a curt nod before leaving without a word, blush still high on his cheeks.

The moment the door closes behind Steve, Tony throws himself onto his bed and lets out a stupidly hysterical giggle into his pillow, feeling giddy with joy.

He makes a mental note to send Pepper some flowers in the morning.

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something #earl answers #user: talktonytome #series: bodyguard au

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kittystargen3 · 3 years ago

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https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13876994/1/Time-Travel-To-the-Past-Yoda-Goes

Summary: A time traveling Grandmaster, to the Prequel Era, trying to fix the mistakes the Jedi made, and get rid of a certain Sith too. Only Time Travel is not that easy, as Yoda will soon learn.

I've added Chapter 23 today. Below is a small selection. Click the links above to read more.

Chapter 23 - Zora

Obi-Wan stood outside of the Creches. Qui-Gon had shared his own personal code to get in when he’d needed extra help that one time, and Obi-Wan remembered the string of numbers. As he typed them in to open the door he didn’t intend to do anything. He just had to see her.

In the Jedi Temple there were several members who shared a genetic heritage. Once a youngling was considered mature enough that they wouldn’t form attachments based on this, they were told about their genetic family links. Master Adi Gallia and Master Stass Allie were cousins. And Tiplar and Tiplee were actually Twins. When Obi-Wan was young he wondered what it would be like to have another Jedi he shared heritage with. Unfortunately for him, Stewjon was a small planet, and few Stewjoni ever tested Force Sensitive.

Obi-Wan walked quietly into the room the younglings played in during the day. “Hello. Knight Kenobi? What brings you down here?” He jumped as the voice startled him.

“Master, I…” Obi-Wan was barely handling his emotions. “I need to see…” Tears leaked out of his eyes. He was sure he didn’t look like much of a Jedi knight.

Don put a hand on his shoulder and looked supportively into his eyes. “It’s okay. I figured one day this would happen. I’ll go get her, but I need you to calm down. You’re leaking bad emotions to the Force.”

Obi-Wan nodded and wiped his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

Don walked into the other room, and Obi-Wan sat down on the floor. He looked around and saw all the old toys he used to play with when he was a youngling in this very room. One such game, to teach them to recognize their emotions, they would draw a picture of the way they were feeling, using symbols for causes, and colors for category, and intensity. Obi-Wan was sure his picture right now would be a mess. ‘Let’s see, I’m angry and sad that Siri didn’t tell me. That’s red and blue. More hurt than mad, though. I do understand why she’d want her to be a Jedi, though. To be raised in the same Temple we were both raised in. I feel happy too, that she is here. That she is mine. That sounds like attachment, but she is my daughter and I couldn’t feel bad about that if I tried. I’m also afraid, too. I’m a fa-father! What does that even mean? How am I supposed to do this?’

“Here little one. Someone’s come all this way just to see you.” Don walked in cooing to Abigail in his arms. “Good work calming down. Here, would you like to hold her?” He sat beside Obi-Wan and passed the infant over to her father’s arms.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan whispered. The little one opened her eyes and looked up at him. She seemed to smile. Her eyes were a bright blue, like Siri’s, and the position of her eyes looked more like her too. She also had the dimple in his chin and his red hair, which he sometimes felt awkward over. Though on Abigail it was a beautiful strawberry blond he couldn’t be more proud of.

After a little while of just staring at his child, he turned back to the Creche Master. “How much do you know? You knew which baby I wanted to see. Said you expected it. Do you know that…”

“That you are her biological father? Yes, I know. I raised you, you know. I’d have recognized another Kenobi without the DNA test.” Don nodded.

“DNA Test!” Obi-Wan exclaimed.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. The Healers ran a few tests on her when she first came in. It’s all in her file. How exactly did you find out?” Don sounded nervous.

“Anakin had a dream about it.”

“Little Ani?” Don asked.

“Yes. I knew they were not just dreams when he talked about them repeating and seeing Bant in them. They were from the Force. So I researched things and found a way to see the visions while he was having them. What I saw was Siri pregnant. She was talking about the fate of her child and her name. I remembered seeing Abi when I was here before.”

Don leaned in. “That was tonight?”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan used his thumb to stroke his daughter’s cheek.

“You know, I’m not supposed to do this, but…” Don looked both ways. He pulled a datapad from his pocket. “I have here the little one’s file. I’ll share as much as I know. Tomorrow, you can ask the Council and see what more they can tell you.

He pulled up her file and read outloud. “‘Abigail Tachi was born in the Temple of Eedit on Devaron to Padawan Siri Tachi.’ On the initial paperwork it seems she’s listed the father as unknown. She probably didn’t want to get you in trouble.” Don looked back down to read more. “Ah, here are the DNA results. ‘In comparing Initiate Abigail Tachi’s DNA with Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, our lab finds them to be related. Based on the samples provided the probability of paternity is 99.99998 Percent.’ That is rather high, I understand.”

“Yeah, I don’t have reason to doubt,” Obi-Wan commented.

“It also says this. ‘After giving Padawan Tachi several options, including keeping custody of her daughter, Siri Tachi chose to relinquish custody to the Order.’ I’m afraid there is no more information about her mother. I understand Siri chose to leave the order anyways.”

“Yeah.” Obi-Wan looked down. “She did say she wanted her to be a Butt Kicking Jedi Knight.” Obi-Wan laughed.

“Yes, that sounds like Siri, doesn’t it.” Don laughed as well.

Just then a little girl appeared in the doorway. “Mater Don. I have-ta go.” She then wiggled to express more firmly what she meant.

Don sighed. Then he muttered, “I told those Padawan Volunteers not to give them so much to drink before bed.” He raised his voice to say to the child, “It’s Okay. I’ll be along in a sec.” Then he looked down at Obi-Wan who nodded.

The Creche Master got up and followed the youngling into the refresher. Obi-Wan looked over and noticed he left his datapad on the floor. He picked it up to put it on a table, out of harm's way, when he noticed the infant’s file was still open on the screen. At that point the temptation to keep reading was too strong. Obi-Wan glanced down at the page...

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silentauroriamthereal · 4 years ago

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Author interview tag

I was tagged by @therealsaintscully! Thanks, you! :)

Name: SilentAuror

Fandoms: Just Sherlock, though I also follow some Old Guard blogs. :)

Where you post: AO3. Though I was almost knocked over the other day when I got a comment on an old HP fic over on skyehawke.com! It’s been literal YEARS since I got a review on anything over there! :P

Most popular multi-chapter fic: Against the Rest of the World for sure. :)

Favourite story you’ve written so far: With 87 posted fics and 2 more currently on the go, I can’t possibly answer that. That’s cruel. Lol.

Fic you were nervous to post: This, on the other hand, is easy, haha! Three stories, all for very different reasons:

1. The A.G.R.A Complex. This was my first Freebatch fic and I thought I might well be burnt at the stake for even writing any RPF. The notion for this story caught my muses’ attention, though, and they eventually forced me to write it against my will. I can’t be held responsible. Lol. It still amazes me that people continue to read it to this day. The notion: Martin and Benedict are friends. There’s a car accident and Martin suffers a fairly mild brain injury. While in his coma, dreams the entire first three seasons of Sherlock, which in this universe, haven’t happened. The nature of the brain injury is such that he keeps shifting mentally between the reality of who he and Benedict (and Amanda) are, and seeing himself and everyone else as their characters in the Sherlock universe. When I posted it, I intended it to be left up to the reader whether to see it as kind of an AU to actual reality, or else a prequel to the filming of Sherlock. When I finally decided to write a sequel, it meant that I had to be the one to make that clear, which made it a prequel. It became a three-part series, with the second part set during and just after the filming of series 3 (the dodgiest in the moral sense, since it dances around and into real life events), and then the third story takes place ten years later.

2. The Final Proof. Why? Easy. Major character death, and it’s Sherlock. That’s clear from about the first sentence, I think. I had written At the Heart of it All, which features Sherlock running an experiment using the hearts of people who lived lives where they had loved and been loved, and people who hadn’t in an effort to prove his own ability to love to John. He says something at the end of that story about wishing he could see his own heart at the end of their life to see which of the hearts his own resembled by then. And then my muses, my terrible, terrible muses said, “hey... you could write that: you know: Sherlock at the very end of his life, making John promise to look at his heart after he’s died, and complete his experiment.” I, like, teared up just at the thought, and honestly, I cried for most of the writing of that story. I’m assured that about 99% of the people who have read it have also cried throughout, so... sorry. Yeah.

3. Scars. Why? Easy, again: the entire story is riddled with gaslighting and other types of emotional abuse and mind-fuckery, and an actual rape scene. It was painful to the point of being interally corrosive to write, but I still felt it was a story I needed to tell. I did my homework on this one, consulted multiple therapists who work specifically in the field of men who have been absued (emotionally, physically, sexually) by female partners. I thought no one would read it. I thought I might lose half my followers on tumblr. But I still wrote it. It still amazes me that people read it, even more when they actually like it, and still like me after. Lol.

How you choose your titles: Hmm... each title genesis is different, I would say! Sometimes it’s a general theme of the story, sometimes it’s a specific concept or single word, occasionally (but not often) it’s a song title. Sometimes it’s another language, particularly Latin. In The A.G.R.A Complex, the title of the story is also the name that the neurologists given to the brain injury Martin experiences. Vena Cava is titled for the name of the vein that Mary’s bullet punctured in Sherlock’s heart, based on a medical analysis I had read. Scars takes its theme from both Sherlock’s external scars from what he went through during his time away, and John’s internal scars from Mary’s emotional abuse. I also have a whole series of (unrelated) flower-themed stories: The Green Carnations comes from ACD era coding for homosexuality. The Yellow Poppies is the story I wrote after the deleted scene about Magnussen’s hospital visit came out, which features both he and Mary as dual villains, and yellow poppies placed in Sherlock’s room as a threat from one or the other of them. The White Lotuses has a leitmotif of Hinduism and slow-blooming self-awareness and romance. The Red Roses is a Molly POV where she helps Sherlock and John get together in spite of her own feelings, and The Wisteria Tree is an amnesia story that has Sherlock forget the past six years of his life, including the five years that he’s been married to John, and how they find their way back together in spite of that. Rosa Felicia - bonus, both a flower name AND Latin, lol! - is a coming-of-age story about Rosie at the age of 19. Where My Demons Hide is a mid-series 4 story that I wrote after The Lying Detective aired, but before The Final Problem did, and is the title of an Imagine Dragons song. Pater Noster is Latin for the title of the Lord’s Prayer in Latin, but also quite literally just means “our father”, and is a story that centres around the events surrounding the death (murder) of John and Harry’s father. You get the gist.

Do you outline: I always say that one should know how a story begins, how it ends, and at least a few of the major points between those two events. So yes, but loosely. I think that over-plotting kills creativity. It’s not an essay. But even essays need space to grow.

Complete: 105 stories back in my skyehawke days, the vast majority of which are HP, totalling in about 1.5 million words. 87 stories in the Sherlock fandom (though those include my 4 Freebatch fics), totalling in over 2.3 million words now.

In progress: I have two stories currently pending: a Christmas story called The Secret of Hazel Grange, and a trauma-based, co-sleeping fic called Nocturne.

Coming soon/not yet started: I never comment about fics I haven’t yet started. Might curse the entire process, lol.

Do you accept prompts: No, alas. Neither prompts nor commissions. While I’m constantly desperately poor, it takes something out of the writing process for me once it becomes a job. I just feel like that’s not what fanfic is about for me. No judgement to anyone else who does write for commissions, whatsoever - we all have our own process! For me, I’m happy (make that incredibly grateful!) to have donations or supporters through my Patreon (eep: x), but writing to order just doesn’t quite jive for me. I also don’t take prompts, not because I don’t want them, but because I have such a huge backlog of my own ideas that I’ll never get to as it is. There will never be enough time to write all the fics I want to write! That said, don’t think that you can’t still suggest your ideas. My “official policy” (lol) is that I don’t take prompts (for the aforementioned backlog reason), but that doesn’t mean that if you do send me one, my muses won’t seize upon it and force me to write it. You never know. I certainly don’t, at least. :P

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: I’m super excited by the notion of actually getting my Christmas fic finished by Christmas. Lol. Here’s hoping!!

Tagging: Anyone who reads this and is a writer, or thinking about becoming one. You’ve been tagged!

#writer stuff #memes and things #sherlock #johnlock #silentauror

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thedefinitionofendgame · 3 years ago

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Love Is Enough

Surrera and Station 19 family multi-chap | Rated T | Canon-compliant

*spoilers for season 4 of station 19*

A/N: we all knew I was going to write a fic about the s4 finale after it ended the way it did. I am very upset at the writers for portraying Sullivan in the way they did—they did him dirty 110%. anyways, that’s where I come in with a fix-it fic. while all events that took place in the finale did happen prior to the start of this fic, that’s where similarities end. this is how Surrera makes it back to each other and how Sullivan makes it up to the team. also cute marina scenes because they’re married now (the only good part of the finale)

•

You can read this work on ao3 as well ; Prequel fic for Code Red

Written & cover by @thedefinitionofendgame

Chapter 1 - I Don't Know How

Andy was beginning to regret sleeping on the couch. When she had moved into Sullivan’s place after their marriage, she wasn’t so sure about a brown leather couch that had stiff rectangle sides. It turned out to be a good couch for movie watching and pretty sturdy for sex, but sleeping was a whole different story. Especially after seven days of this.

Sullivan—her husband but she had resorted to calling him only by his last name when she was mad—had told her that she could sleep in their bed and that he’d take the couch. But Andy was too angry to accept any pity from him. She could barely look at him, and wished she could just sleep at the station. However, with everything happening, the station was worse than sleeping in the same house as him. A traitor to her, her station 19 family and most of all to her best friend Maya. While it was out of respect for her best friend that she was angry at Sullivan, she was also just pissed off that he would try yet again to move up the ranks fast. Who on Earth ever thought that was a good idea? Clearly not Sullivan, because if he had stopped that thought for a goddamn moment, he wouldn’t have tried to swoop in and take Maya’s job.

“Stupid vulture,” Andy muttered under her breath, as she rolled over two inches and ended up off the couch. He was vulture-like; swooping in and stealing something that wasn’t his. Vultures ate dead animals on the sides of roads and Sullivan moving in after Maya’s captaincy job went up in flames, was really no different. Yes, Andy quite liked her new comparison of her husband to a vulture.

Unfortunately, Sullivan walked downstairs at that moment to see her smirking. “Something funny?” He asked, in the husky voice that he used only in the morning before his coffee. Ugh, she needed to take her mind off that immediately.

“No.” Andy refused to meet his gaze. Picking up the blanket she had stolen off their bed, she moved to climb the stairs. “I am going to take a shower and get ready. You better be out of this house by the time I return downstairs.”

Sullivan sighed. He had tried for the past week to try to get his wife to hear him out, but she wasn’t having it. He knew how stubborn and headstrong she was, although he never thought she would ever use it for longer than a couple hours on him. After day two, Sullivan found out he was very wrong. So he just begrudgingly agreed to whatever she told him. “Alright. You do know we could drive together? Save money on gas.”

“There is no way I’m sitting in the same car with you for the twenty minute drive to work. I can barely be in the same room as you for two.” With a final swish of her hair over her shoulder, she climbed the stairs and slammed their bedroom door behind her.

Sighing louder this time, Sullivan poured himself a coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter to drink it. He could hear the water start upstairs and he wished that he and Andy weren’t fighting. For reasons other than sex, of course. But his mind couldn’t help but wander because on a regular day he would’ve chased her to the bathroom and had his way with her. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen for a very long time now. Knowing he had better be gone by the time Andy got out of the shower, Sullivan quickly downed his coffee, grabbed his keys, wallet and phone, then left wondering if it was always going to be like this. He sure hoped not.

»«

When she emerged from the shower in a cloud of steam, Andy listened at the door for movement and wondered if Sullivan had actually left or not. She stepped outside of the bedroom but was met with silence. Andy silently thanked her husband for leaving; he had finally taken the hint that she didn’t want to hear his excuses. What he had done was unforgivable, and frankly Andy didn’t know if she would ever be able to look at him the same way. He really thought that it would be possible to justify his actions after everything that happened. Maybe Maya losing her job had been inevitable, yet it was not inevitable for Sullivan to volunteer himself for the captaincy position.

Andy thought she knew her husband. She thought she knew the man she had fallen in love with. While she understood how being demoted had affected him, mentally and physically, that did not mean he could go and take Maya’s captaincy job. When she had found out what he did, there had been so much yelling and screaming, Andy was surprised the neighbours didn’t call over wondering what the hell was going on. Her behaviour at the wedding was two days after what happened, and she was still steaming with anger.

Now, Andy was mad. But she wasn’t upset so much as disappointed. Yeah, that was what she felt. Disappointment. Nearly everyone she knew had been flabbergasted to say the least, that she had married the battalion chief after dating him in secret for a few months. Heck, Andy was a bit surprised herself. Yet Maya Bishop had stuck by her side and congratulated her about her marriage, even when the rest of the station freaked out. Travis and Vic had calmed down soon enough, though Jack seemed to be the most judgmental. Rightfully so, as Andy had turned down Jack’s proposal ages ago but accepted Sullivan’s when it was even more of a surprise. That didn’t mean Andy hadn’t been a bit hurt about it, and she had even ranted to Maya about everyone’s reactions later that night. Maya and Andy had had their rough moments—what friendship didn’t, was the real question—although in the end they were there for each other. They stuck up for each other, and they stood beside one another. Andy agreed with Maya’s call that day with the young boy who needed to get to a hospital as fast as possible. In the same situation, Andy would’ve done the same thing. She had been very tempted to tell Fire Chief McAllister that fact herself. Fear of losing her own job held her back at the time but now she wanted nothing more than to storm his office and tell him just what she thought.

Ugh, he just makes me so mad! Andy thought, slamming down her hairbrush. There were tangles in her curls still, yet she couldn’t be bothered to get rid of them. Instead she twisted her hair into a low bun and threw on some clothes. Time to face another day of work. Maybe she would go see Maya afterwards, and share her new nickname for Sullivan with her. At least that might make her smile. Maya could use all the love she could get right now, although luckily Carina was there to put her wife through the motions everyday…

»«

“Do you want me to go over there and punch him?” Carina asked, pacing up and down the short hallway between their living room and bedroom. “Because I will, and I don’t think he wants to hear an Italian woman screaming at him alongside the stinging blow to the face.”

Maya tried to smile to let her wife know that she was thankful for the sentiment, but everything was just too fresh to make a joke about. “No. I don’t want that. Plus what would Andy say?”

Carina’s eyes narrowed, then she relaxed them and the corners of her mouth turned up. “I heard Andy’s been arguing with Sullivan non-stop at the station. Even giving him the silent treatment. Like she said the other day, she’s on your side. So I personally believe she’d thank me if I decided to punch her husband.”

“Haha.” Maya finally laughed even though inside she felt like crying. It had been five days since she had lost her job. Lost her standing as captain and the respect it had built. She had been the first captain of Station 19, and frankly one of the first captains of the SFD. And for what, to be demoted back to firefighter for a small protocol issue? Damn, well clearly someone had it out for her from the beginning.

It made her feel a little bit better, though, to know that Andy was on her side. She could easily have taken her husband’s but she chose her best friend’s side. That was some dedication. Maya just hoped Andy and Sullivan’s marriage would be okay. She remembered making comments about their marriage on her own wedding day and how perfect they were. Little did Maya know at the time, Andy and Sullivan were fighting behind closed doors about his choice to swoop in and attempt to steal Maya’s job.

At this point, she didn’t even know what was going on at the station. Maya hadn’t been back to work since she got demoted, mainly because she had planned to take time off after her wedding. She and Carina couldn’t travel anywhere due to COVID restrictions, but they had planned to lounge around and have sex all day long. So much for those plans. It was yet another thing Maya was sorry about, and would need to make up for in the future. Luckily Carina didn’t seem to have a problem with their plans being cancelled. She preferred to play the game of “what other way can I make Sullivan miserable” every minute. Even though Maya knew Carina wouldn’t follow through with any of them, some of the things she thought up were sort of clever. The answers ranged from filling his turnout boots with lego bricks, to kicking him in the shins; both things Maya had thought about doing the day after she found out her verdict.

While Maya wasn’t anywhere near ready to forgive Sullivan, she certainly wasn’t as angry with him as Carina was. She was hurt and confused, but not angry. Which surprised Maya, because she normally jumped to conclusions when it came to wrong-doings. Though maybe Maya was growing as a person after this demotion. God, it still hurt to think about it.

Maya swung her feet off the couch and stood up. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announced.

Carina stopped pacing immediately. “Would you like company?”

Sadly, Maya shook her head. “No thanks, babe. But I would love some of the soup you made last night.”

“Okay, I’ll warm some up right now.” Carina quickly came over and wrapped her arms around Maya. “I love you, no matter what. I married you for you and I’m prepared to be here for all of it; the good, the bad and the ugly.”

“I love you too,” Maya said and leaned into her wife’s embrace. Maybe one day things would be okay. But clearly not for a very, very long time.

#station 19 #station 19 fic #surrera #sullivan x andy #robert sullivan #andy herrera #fix-it fic #code red prequel #the definition of endgame

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cocastyle · 4 years ago

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If you’re okay with this, can I be on the tag list for Change? I binge read the entire series and I love it and want more. Also, as a request (if you are taking requests, if you aren’t no big deal) can you do a sequel to In-Between? Where is goes over the Code Red in Hawkins and we get to see more of the party interacting with the losers, and the losers get to see what Hawkins is like. Thank you for writing! I am loving your works.

hey!! of course you can be added to the tag list for change! new updates are coming really soon

as for your request, I’m actually planning both a sequel AND a prequel for the in-between!! with the prequel being the events of the first three seasons of stranger things :) not sure when exactly it will be out but hopefully in the near future!

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twilightofthe · 5 years ago

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for the fanfic title prompt (I'll give a few separated by numbers): 1. Under the Evening Sky; 2. Oh Dear; 3. In His Eyes; and finally, the obligatory song lyric title: We Will Call This Place Our Home

Took me a bit to come up with the right fic idea for all of these and it was really super fun, thanks so much!!!!! Here’s your fic summaries!!! (from this ask meme)

Under the Evening Sky

Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Rated (very high) T, probs one of those 20k oneshots, starring Obi Wan and Anakin (and Ahsoka), Obikin endgame

Summary: When you throw a ball for high profile politicians in the middle of a war, multiple assassination threats are an inevitability. Any Jedi presence would be a great comfort, though they will not be exempt from the dress code.

Dressed to the nines, Obi Wan and Anakin have a job to do tonight. The stars are bright, the alcohol is flowing, several killers lurk, Obi Wan pretends he’s dancing with someone else, and Anakin wonders who in the hells was both blind and persuasive enough to convince Obi Wan he didn’t look good in red…

This would be a noir/James Bond-style get-together fic for Anakin and Obi Wan. It would be full of them and Ahsoka in fancy clothing and at a shmancy ball trying to hunt down a group of assassins. There’d be LOTS of appreciation for one another all dressed up (I’ve already imagined Anakin in dark blue and Obi Wan in red so y’all can too, some subtle eye makeup, etc. There would be a Thing where Anakin was so preoccupied doing Ahsoka’s makeup he forgot to do his hair so just pulled it back, and Obes will like, run his hands thru his hair and pull it back out and rearrange it like “nah ur perf as it is” and they’re both dying inside while it happens). There’d be dancing with other people, trying to drink away those pesky feelings for one’s partner, fighting in fancy clothing (and silly boys lusting over the other fighting in said tight clothing) (also Ahsoka absolutely has learned from Padmé how to pull off and then stab someone with a high heel), repression of feelings, and ultimately revelations of feelings, finally dancing with one another and heavy makeouts in the coat closet.

Oh Dear…

Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Rated T, average-size oneshot, starring Ahsoka with Anakin, Rex, Domino Squad, Obi Wan, and Padmé

Summary: When Ahsoka gets a citation on a recent mission report for “improper language”, she reflects back on where she might have picked up such a habit.

Or: Five Sources Who Taught Young Ahsoka Tano Exactly How Many Different Ways One Can Say “Fuck”

This would absolutely be a crackfic where I expand on my headcanon that since Ahsoka grew up in an army and alongside the likes of personalities such as Anakin “I was an impressionable nine year old on Fucking Tatooine” Skywalker and Obi Wan “If you swear in a different language it doesnt’ count” Kenobi, our girl probably has the worst potty mouth in the galaxy, and how that might get her into trouble or gain her respect depending on the situation.

In His Eyes

Star Wars Original, Rated T, average to long-ish?-size oneshot, starring Leia and Han (and Luke), Hanleia

Summary: Leia looks away from the bright glare of the sand, only to find Han’s hand suddenly patting along her face and nearly poking her in the eye.

“Sorry, Leia,” Han mutters. “I’m assuming that’s you and not Luke. Still can’t see too well.”

His hand starts to wander a bit lower, and for a moment Leia’s worried she’ll have to inflict pain, but as soon as Han’s fingers graze bare skin where he knows they shouldn’t, his hand whisks away while his eyes widen. “Shit, princess, you must be cold!” He instantly starts trying and failing to take off his own shirt.

“We’re in the desert,” Leia feels she has to point out, despite the fuzzy feeling suddenly warming in her heart.

Basically this is going off of that one comment someone on here made that Han, the man who loved and married her, was the one person who never got to see Leia in the slave bikini because he was still blinded by the carbonite freezing. This would be a fic from Leia’s perspective starting right after they escaped Jabba’s barge and are headed back to the Rebellion up and through the Battle of Endor. She’ll be pondering all the while her relationship with Han and how he sees her and how she feels about it and how she may want to start a life with him.

Highlights will include the summary scene where not only does Han drink his respect women juice and instantly try to be a gentleman and offer Leia his shirt the moment he notices she’s not as dressed, Luke at the same time notices, and while before he was just trying to respectfully not look, now realizes belatedly that “oh yeah she can have my shirt!” and Hidden Protective Brother Instinct kicks in so he ALSO tries to give Leia his shirt. Han objects because “hey this is MY chivalrous gesture back off” and this of course leads to the two of them ending up in their underwear and throwing their whole wardrobes at Leia like HERE TAKE IT while Leia laughs for the first time in what feels like ages. Lando has removed no clothing during this and is just focusing on driving like “uh I think they got you covered”

We Will Call This Place Our Home

Star Wars Rebels & Star Wars Original Trilogy, Rated T, multichapter snapshots, starring Hera, Zeb, Rex, Kallus, Leia, and Luke

Summary: Those who call themselves Spectres are constantly haunted by ghosts of the past, up to, including, and right on past one day that brings a Fulcrum agent dead, a planet destroyed, a fatherless son born, and now the Rebellion apparently has a Jedi again…

This would basically be an insight into the Rebels characters Kanan and Ezra left behind, and snapshots of their lives. Particularly, what they were doing around the time of Rogue One– I think Kallus knew Cassian, obvs. Also headcanon that pregnant Hera insisted in flying in the Battle of Scarif which promptly caused her to go into labor directly after, causing her to have Jacen either on Lothal like she had planned or in the Ghost on the way, which is why the Ghost isn’t near Yavin for that battle. Also would include a talk between Zeb and Leia about surviving your planet’s genocide, a talk between Leia, Luke, and Hera about knowing any other people who could help Luke, and one between Luke and Rex who was Not Ready For Any Of This.

#hope you liked!#once again dangit tho now I have IDEAS oh nooooo #but really thanks so so much for the prompt!!!!!!!!!!!!#ask #asks #bpdanakins #morai musings

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morganwriteblr · 4 years ago

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[BLEACH FANFIC] TWPATWK: CHAPTER SIX

I have just posted this on my Ao3!

--Quick reminder here that this is *technically* a prequel/companion story/.5 type thing and should be read ideally after Chapter Nine of RTSMS-- [If you haven’t read it yet and would like to (totally your choice!) here’s a handy dandy link to the summary!]

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains the following themes that may be upsetting and/or inappropriate for some audiences: scenes of violence, descriptions of gore, and references to both sexual assault and physical & mental abuse.

Seireitei

In the hours since the bells had first rung out from the Academy, news of the murders had quickly travelled across the whole of Seireitei. Following the Captain’s meeting, some of the looser-lipped Lieutenants had revealed more of the gory details, as well as the name of the young female student who had killed the two older boys. Though the tales had originally been met with heavy criticism and disbelief, the continual circulation of the same facts lead to them being widely accepted as the truth. Luckily, the name of the student who had corroborated the story had not also been leaked.

Kuchiki Soujyun had formulated a plan to help his son as soon as he had left the Academy. The ultimate goal would be to have the young girl fully exonerated, which would then allow her and Byakuya to wed after succeeding his grandfather as Head of the House. He knows that his own father would be less than happy with what he is planning, but Soujyun also knows that his time in this life was short. His illness had been gradually sapping away at his strength each day. Seeing his son happy for the first time since he had lost his mother had revitalised him, and returned to him some of the energy he had thought was forever lost to him. He resolves to keep his plans close to his chest as he returns to Seireitei.

Upon entering his personal office space, the first thing he notices is the open window at the back of the room. This was concerning for him since he would hardly ever open any of the windows, let alone leave them open when he wasn’t in there. A strange shiver runs up his spine as he moves to close the window—it was not a cold day, so that shiver hadn’t come from his body responding to a change in temperature. Instead, it is a shiver that informs him that he is being watched. From the very corner of his peripheral vision, he sees a pair of golden feline eyes staring at him and decides against closing the window as he sits at his desk. “Greetings, Captain Shihouin.”

“Impressive. How is Byakuya doing?”

“Of course you already know of his involvement. He is completely besotted with that poor girl…much to the disdain of his grandfather.”

“There’s a scroll in your top drawer—read it once, then burn it,” the strange feline leaps through the still open window and quickly disappears.

With a slight shake of his head, Soujyun finally closes the window before retrieving the scroll from the drawer that she had indicated towards. It had been written in a strange code and entirely in the angular katakana script. After a moment, Soujyun is able to discern the decoding method: the feline paw print that had been used to sign the scroll indicates that he should remove the ‘ne’ and ‘ko’ (‘neko’ meaning cat) characters that were littered throughout the scroll rather haphazardly. Finally, he is able to discern the true message.

“You will find the support you need in the flamboyant man and his silver-haired friend. I will also do what I can. Sincerely from the shadows, Yi.”

Soujyun summons a miniscule shakkahou at the tip of his finger as he places the scroll inside the hearth, and watches as the red kidou flame quickly reduces it to ash. He knows that he will have to be very cautious in his approach to make contact with the two men.

***

Elsewhere, Captain Commander Yamamoto cannot shift his attention away from what Fujimori Michiko’s zanpakutou had done as he once again examines his hand. He addresses his Lieutenant without lifting his eyes. “Sasakibe, did you feel anything from that zanpakutou whilst it was in your possession?”

“Yessir, I believe I did. As soon as I went to lift it from where the girl had hidden it, I could feel its spirit so keenly that it felt like I was drowning, choking, and burning all at once.”

“Hmph. A zanpakutou containing the spirits of two celestial guardians, who were able to materialise themselves into forms capable of killing her attackers, and then dematerialise into the form of a daishou zanpakutou! I do not say this lightly, Choujirou, but it would not surprise me if she one day sits behind this desk.”

“Yamamoto-sama! You truly believe this girl capable of being the future Commander?”

“I do.”

***

[Notes]

No ‘real’ notes this time, but I would like to thank everyone taking the time to read these chapters I’m writing!

#ao3 bleach #ao3 #fanfic #bleach #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic writing #writing #writer #writers #am writing #my writing #writeblr #morganwriteblr #morgan writes #morganfaire #rtsms #twpatwk

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kaleldobrev · 5 years ago

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The Old Fashioned Way (Part 3 of the “Vous Aussi” series)

Series Plot: You’re a serial killer who is active in Kansas, who has teamed up with the Winchester’s. Here’s a prequel of how that partnership started.

Chapter Three Summary: Sam and Dean take care of the reader the old fashioned way.

Reader Gender: Female

Warnings: smut, pure smut, honestly this is porn, threesome with Sam & Dean, fingering, daddy kink, talk of fear kink, humiliation, dirty talk, slight slut shaming, talks of sam and dean having big boys, slight praise kink, rough sex

Notes: Hope you all enjoy this work of pure porn

Chapter 1 - Tonight’s The Night

Chapter 2 - Want To Make a Deal?

Chapter 3 (AO3 Link)

The fact that I was chained to a metal table by my ankles and wrists was really a lady boner killer, because I wanted to reach out and touch the two men before me. I hated to admit this to myself, and I really, really did; but they were far from mildly attractive. I have seen some pretty attractive men in my day, I mean, my high school boyfriend was probably the most attractive man I ever have killed, but Sam and Dean Winchester were pretty high up there, or maybe even on the same level. There was so much I wanted to do, but they wouldn’t release the binding they had on me; they thought that it would be “more fun” if I stayed chained up. Maybe more fun for them, but not nearly as much fun for me. The whole point of this challenge was to try and prove myself. Prove that I could actually get them off with minimal use of my body. Little did they know, I actually was very much into bondage, but I wasn’t usually the one being bound; it was my victims or the random men that I slept with when I was bored. So being bound was definitely a new experience for me.

I looked at the two men before me. They were exchanging looks, giving each other silent ques. I guess that was one of the perks when it came to siblings. After a moment of their silence exchange, Dean was the first one to come next to me. He stood on the side of the metal table I was on, and just smirked. He ran his hands down the edge of the table, and his fingertips were dangerously close to my skin. When he got to the edge of the table where my waist was, he pulled a kind of lever, which made the table go flat instead of right up like it was. The sudden motion made me let out a small yelp, which only made the two men chuckle. “Did I scare you there sweetheart?” Dean playfully asked. I shook my head. “Good. Cause we can’t have you being scared now. Then again, that would add to the fun.” He commented, a slightly evil smirk formed on his lips.

“Are you into girls who have a fear kink?” I asked, having my own little smirk at the end of my question. My question caused not only Dean to bit his bottom lip, but for Sam to smirk as well.

“Nah sweetheart. It just really gets me going when I look into a girls eyes and just seeing pure fear or terror.” Dean responded. He started playing with random strands of my hair while he continued to look me in the eyes. “But I know we’re probably not gonna get the look of pure fear or terror from you.” He almost seemed disappointed.

“The perks of being a fellow serial killer. I don’t get scared. Plus, you boys don’t scare me in the slightest.” I felt myself lick my lips at my sentence. I was actually more into this than I would have liked to admit.

“We don’t scare you uh?” Sam questioned. He was on the other side of the table now. “I guess we’re gonna have to figure out how to scare you then. Unless, you can excite us in other ways. Which, you better hope for or the deal is off, and you’re just going to be one of our victims.” He smirked. Sam seemed way too happy about this. But I couldn’t blame him, I was a pretty hot chick. I’d love the chance to fuck me.

“Do your worst boys. I can handle a lot.” I told them, being way too cocky now.

“Oh sweetheart,” Dean began to say.

“We’ll do our worst,” Sam finished.

“Good.” I replied, and with that, Sam and Dean walked away from the table and headed toward a closet on the other side of the room. The closet was made of metal, like many of the other things that were in this room; and it had a padlock on the door. Sam was the one who punched in the code, and opened up the closet. Even though I could not see everything in the closet, it seemed as though that was their designated BDSM closet. I could see a variety of different chains, and whips. There was a knife or two, and some ropes, and even some handcuffs. But I’m sure there was more to that closet than meets the eye.

Sam and Dean stood there in front of the closet but what seemed like forever. They were whispering, and I couldn’t really make out what they were saying. There were a few pieces to the conversation that I managed to hear which were, ”Not this one, that one,” “She’d really love this,” “We gotta give her our worst.”

After a few minutes of them trying to figure out what they were going to do, the both of them came back to the table. “So boys, whatcha got for me?” I asked, pretty curious. The boys looked at me, with semi evil grins on their faces. Dean was the first one to reveal that he actually had nothing in his hands. I then looked over at Sam and he too, did not have anything in his hands. “All that commotion and nothing?” I asked.

“We’re going to do this the old fashioned way.” Dean said coming closer to me. His fingers were playing with my hair again.

“The old fashioned way uh?” I asked curious.

“Hands.” Sam replied, going to the other side of the table. I turned my head to look at him, slightly confused by his answer.

“Hands?” I questioned, and Sam nodded.

“Hands.” He replied back. His answers not really clearing anything up. I turned my head to face Dean, hoping that he would clear something up.

“And fingers.” Was all Dean said in response.

I let out a small huff, getting a little frustrated by their lack of explanation. “Would you boys like to explain to me what you mean by hands and fingers instead of just saying it?” I asked them, which caused them to let out a chuckle.

“We’ll show you.” Dean answered.

“It’ll be more fun that way.” Sam added. Finally, some kind of explanation. Well, kind of.

At this moment, Dean stopped playing with my hair now and decided to run his hands along my body. His hands stopped at my thigh, at the hem of my dress and started to slowly lift the fabric. The hem of my dress started to go up and up, revealing more and more of my thigh. Dean stopped for a moment and looked over at his younger brother. The younger Winchester gave him a small nod, urging him to keep going, in which the older Winchester obliged. Dean continued to lift the hem of my dress until the hem reached to were my underwear was. Dean looked at his younger brother again, in which Dean removed his hands from my dress and Sam decided to take over. Sam decided to take both of his hands and instead of taking the hem of my dress like I thought he would, his hands were on my hips now, his point fingers on my underwear, ready to pull them down at a moments notice. I felt myself suck in a breath, before he pulled them down with full force. Sam held my underwear in his hands for a moment. I could see a slight smirk on his lips.

“Cute.” Dean replied looking at my underwear in Sam’s hands. The underwear was red lace, and if you saw them on me without my dress, you can see that they would barely cover my ass.

“Only cute?” I asked.

“I’m just surprised that you wore underwear at all.” Dean said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You just seem like a slut, and sluts usually don’t wear underwear.” Sam added to the conversation. He held them right in front of his face for a moment like he was admiring them. “Even if you can call these underwear.” He said. A part of me thought that it was kind of cute when he called me a slut. Not really expecting that kind of language from someone that looked like him. He just seemed too innocent in a way. After a moment more of staring, he decided to toss them to the side. I’d probably wouldn’t be getting those back any time soon.

At this point, my dress was now up to my bra line and my entire bottom half was exposed for them to do whatever they wanted. I started to get turned on just thinking about all of dirty things they could possibly do to me given the fact that I was chained up and exposed. Dean walked around to the end of the table to where my feet were and Sam decided to move to the top of the table just above my head. “Spread your legs.” Dean demanded, and I gladly obliged. I felt my lips turn into a smile, which caused Dean to smirk. “Good girl. At least you know how to follow simple directions.” I began to open myself to say something, but Sam was the one that covered my mouth. “No talking unless we tell you. We don’t need your pointless commentary.” Ouch. That hit my ego just a little bit.

Dean hooked his arms underneath my knees so my legs were on his shoulders. Sam held his hand over my mouth and watched my gaze as I looked at Dean between my legs. The older Winchester started kissing my legs, and went slowly up my thighs. His kisses felt good against my freshly shaven legs as he has slight scruff on his face. It tickled a bit, but it still felt good nonetheless.

After what seemed like forever, he finally reached my pussy, and I felt myself suck in a breath. Sam felt me doing that, and I felt him chuckle. When he did so, Dean looked up from between my legs and looked over at Sam. A slightly devilish look on his face. “You jealous there little brother?” Dean asked.

“Just slightly.” Sam replied.

“Don’t worry brother. You’ll get your chance.” Dean smirked.

“Of course. Age before beauty.” Sam said, causing Dean to chuckle.

At that moment, Dean finally made contact with my pussy and started licking and sucking. I started to shift a bit from the contact, and with his other hand, Sam made sure that I stayed in one place. Dean started making circular motions with his tongue now, and I was doing all I could to keep my legs open like he asked me to; but it was hard. As Dean continued, painfully slow, I felt myself go a little weak in the knees and I let out a muffled moan due to Sam still having his hand covering my mouth. I was starting to get close, which Dean knew, because he started to pick up the pace a bit. He removed his mouth for the shortest amount of time and replaced it with two fingers right away. He plunged them in, not even giving my pussy time to adjust. I bucked my hips forward at the feeling. It was a mixture of slight pain, but it was more pleasure than anything. As he continued to move his fingers in and out of me, he added his tongue again. I’ve gotten eaten out and fingered more times than I could possibly count, but Dean Winchester was probably one of the best; and that was saying something.

After a few more pumps of his fingers and some plunges from his tongue, my body tensed up and I let myself go. My legs started to shake and I came. As I came, Dean’s tongue and fingers continued to pump in and out of me throughout my orgasm. After I ended my first orgasm, Dean removed his face from between my legs and unhooked his arms from my legs. He started to unbuckle his pants and pulled them down, revealing himself to be pretty endowed. “You know, I’ve always been an ass man myself but…” Dean began to say as he made himself at home between my legs again. “I think I can make an exception when it comes to your cunt.” He finished and started stroking himself, even though he was already hard. “Alright slut. Are you ready?” He asked me and then laughed. “Of course you are. Sluts are always ready.” He smirked. Taking his cock in his hand, he started teasing my entrance with the tip; precum and my own juices coating my entrance. All I wanted him to do was just fuck me already. I started to speak, even though my speech was muffled. “What is that sweetheart?” Dean asked, and he nodded to Sam. A silent gesture so that he could remove his hand from my mouth.

“Will you please just fuck me already?” I practically begged.

“Aw.” Dean said. He continued to tease my entrance, barely putting anything inside me. “What was that sweetheart? I don’t think I quite heard you.”

I let out a sigh. “I said. please fuck me.”

He started to put his cock a little bit more inside me, but still, there was barely anything. He was big, and at this rate, it was going to take him a while in order for him to finish putting the rest of himself inside of me. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” Now he was just being cute.

“Dean, please.” I began to say. “I need your cock. My cunt needs it.” If I could feel embarrassment, I’m sure I would feel it right now. This was humiliating.

“And why do you need my cock sweetheart?” He asked.

“Because I’m a slut.” I replied.

“Who’s slut?” A smirk was on his face now. Some more of his cock entered me.

“Yours.” I replied.

“Only Dean’s?” Sam interjected now.

“And yours.” I said.

“Now all together.” Dean said.

“I need your cock Dean, please. I need your cock inside my cunt because I’m a slut for you and Sam.” This was humiliating.

Dean laughed. “Give the girl a round of applause.” He was mocking me now. “But, I’m going to give you my cock instead, since you said please so pretty.” At that moment, he put his whole cock inside of me, and I let out a small little shout. I knew he was big, but I didn’t think he was that big. From the feel of it, it felt like he had to force himself inside of me. Which made sense, but I was slightly surprised given the fact that I already did have an orgasm and my cunt was still wet from my cum and his saliva. “Atta girl.” Dean said, starting to go slow. “Taking my cock like a pro.” He grinned, and I hated myself for loving that grin of his. He started to go faster. “Such a good girl for me.” His comments were making me wetter and I hated it. This was so humiliating.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I mumbled and moaned, hating the kind of affect he had on me. If Dean had this affect on me, there’s no telling what kind of affect Sam was going to do to me. I had a feeling he was pretty endowed too, given the fact that he was basically a giant. I continued to moan out other profanities as Dean continued to go faster and faster. His hands were holding my hips. They were tight against them, and I knew he was going to leave bruises. Bruises was something that he wanted. So he could mark me. I could appreciate that. Dean’s pace was steady, and he was wasn’t sloppy even though I knew he was close. The grip on my hips started to get tighter and tighter. The more he pounded into me, the more profanities I started moaning out.

“You’re gonna have such pretty bruises.” Sam looked me in the eyes, and I grinned as much as I could. A part of me loved the fact that I was going to have bruises. Sam leaned down and kissed my lips. They were softer than I was expecting them to be. As he kissed me, Dean was now starting to get sloppy with his movements. I moaned into Sam’s moan, and I could feel his lips curve up into a smile.

“I’m gonna cum so deep in this pretty cunt of yours.” Dean commented, placing one of his hands on my stomach and keeping the other one on my hips. “Hope you’re taking something sweetheart ‘cause, I’m not gonna be a dad to some kid. The only dad I’m gonna be is yours.” And at that moment, I felt his cum inside of me, and Sam bit down on my bottom lip; a small amount of my blood fell in my mouth, and I felt like I died and went to Heaven; because this moment here was going to be the closest I would ever get to being in Heaven. I let out a deep moan, and my whole body shook. My second orgasm happened, and Dean continued to ride it out. After I was done with my orgasm, he removed his cock from my body, and I slightly whined at the contact. “Aw, don’t worry sweetheart. You’re gonna get filled real quick.” Dean said grabbing his pants and pulling them up, not bothering to put his belt back on. “Your other dad is gonna take real good care of you like I did.” He smirked. God I hated and loved his smirk. “Nothing to say?” He asked me.

“Just…Trying…To…Catch my breath…Daddy.” I said, wanting to vomit in my mouth. I hated myself for being into this, because of how humiliating this was. But I just couldn’t help being turned on. It’s not everyday you have two decent looking men fucking you. Then again, this might be how their victims felt.

I saw Dean’s smile grow wider when I called him Daddy; this is exactly what he wanted to hear. If I could stroke his ego a bit, I’m more than willing to do so. I understood that after all. “I’m gonna take good care of you.” Sam said. It was his turn now; and if the size of Dean’s cock said anything, Sam’s was probably going to be just as big or even bigger. He was going to rip me in half, and I was strangely okay with that.

Sam and Dean switched now. Dean was now by my head and Sam was between my legs; his pants already down. “Oh fuck…” I mumbled. Sam laughed, as he stepped between my legs.

“And you thought my brother was big.” Sam scoffed.

“Bitch.” Dean mumbled.

“Jerk.” Sam replied. The two of them smiled, sharing a moment. But all I wanted was for Sam to fuck me. I didn’t care about this brotherly moment they were having in the slightest. I rolled my eyes. “Oh, not into this moment of ours?” He asked.

“Not particularly. I just want you to fuck me with your cock.” I said.

“Aw. You’re gonna have to do better than that.” Sam said, a slight pout on his face.

“Daddy, please fuck me. I need your cock inside me. I need your cum. Your slut needs you.” I hated how much I was begging right now.

“There’s my girl.” Sam’s hands made a home on my hips, in the same position Dean’s were. If I wasn’t going to have bruises before, I was definitely going to have bruises now. Sam didn’t even tease my cunt like Dean did, he just went straight for it and plunged into me. Like Dean, it felt like Sam had to force his cock inside me. There was more pain this time, because he didn’t ease his way in like Dean kind of did. Even though Dean was big, Sam was just a little bit bigger, but not by much. But they were both pretty big guys nonetheless.

“Sam, fuck.” I said, a little louder than I expected, as he started pumping in and out of me. He was rough and fast, unlike Dean, but they were both still similar in their movements. As he kept pumping in and out of me, Dean leaned down and kissed me. His kisses weren’t soft like his brothers, they were a bit rougher. I felt Dean’s tongue go along my bottom lip, like he was trying to feel the small bite that Sam had left on my bottom lip. I could slightly taste myself on his lips.

“You feel so good.” Sam started praising me, stroking my ego. “Probably one of the nicest cunts I’ve fucked.” His mouth was so dirty, much dirtier than Dean’s. “God…” Sam started to say something, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

Dean removed his lips from mine, and looked at Sam, then looked at me. “Just so you know sweetheart. Sam doesn’t fuck every girl we get. That’s usually my thing. So, when Sam says that you’ve got a nice little cunt, he means it. Why don’t you tell him thank you for that compliment?” It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a demand.

“Thank you for the compliment daddy.” I said, no hesitation in my voice whatsoever.

“That’s our little slut.” Dean said, kissing my lips again. Sam’s movements were now getting sloppy. He was getting close and so was I. I felt myself getting more and more on the edge of cumming; I wasn’t sure if I was able to cum again, but I knew Sam was going to get me there.

“You better cum when I do.” Sam demanded; his voice stern. Within moments, the both of us came. His cum flooded inside of me, and I felt myself cum around his cock.

Sam pulled himself out of me, it was quick and I hated the loss of contact. I wanted him to keep his cock inside of me. I wanted the both of them to keep their cocks inside of me. “Well Sammy, what do you think?” Dean asked. I started breathing in and out, trying to catch my breath.

“I think she has herself a deal.” Sam smirked.

Tagging: @22sarah08

If you would like to be tagged for my stories, message me.

#sam Winchester x you #dean Winchester x you #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #smut #pure smut #sam x dean x you #sam Winchester x reader #dean Winchester x reader #sam Winchester x dean Winchester x you

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hovercraft79 · 6 years ago

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Winter Song

Ch 30 Jingle Bells

Chapters: 30/31 Word Count: 1,761 Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017) Rating: Teen Warnings: None Summary: Tonight is the big New Year’s Eve bash at Pentangle’s and Hecate, much to her dismay, has agreed to go. But Pippa knows her friend. And she has a few surprises up her sleeve to make Hecate’s night special.

Notes: This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist.

Jingle Bells has been around forever. Pick whichever cover is your favorite.

THIS IS THE LAST ONE! I’m so glad I stuck this out and finished – I hope you are, too. As always, thanks to Sparky for all the editing. She’s a good sport about it every time. Also, I should say thanks to my family for leaving me to feed this little obsession. They’re great.

Hecate checked her bag one last time. She couldn’t believe she’d let Pippa talk her into spending New Year’s Eve at Pentangle’s Academy. The Pentangle’s New Year’s Eve party was famous – infamous really. Though Pippa had promised she’d enjoy herself, Hecate couldn’t imagine that would be true.

She flipped open her pocket watch and checked the time. Pippa had been very cagey about tonight’s plans, saying only that she should pack to spend the night and be waiting in front of Cackle’s at five-thirty in the evening. It was five twenty-eight. Hecate gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, smoothing her hands down her Ordinary style jumper and woolen trousers. Again, Pippa’s instructions – dress warmly and be ready to blend in with the Ordinaries. She flicked her wrist and transferred to Cackle’s entry.

The cold hit her like a brick, and for a flash of time she was back in the ice. She pushed the feeling away, casting a warming spell so strong she would be sweating soon. She still didn’t know what all of this business was about; she could be at Pentangle’s in two easy transfers, or half an hour on her broom.

Ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching!

The sound started small, then grew, louder and louder with each passing second. A moment later a red carriage, pulled by a pair of white horses wheeled through the gate. The driver wore holiday green, matching the horses blankets, the upholstery and the swags of greenery decorating the carriage.

The only thing out of place was a deep pink figure riding in the back seat. Hecate cut the warming spell. She didn’t need it anymore. She watched the carriage swing around the drive, keeping her face impassive until the carriage swung to a stop in front of her.

“Hello, milady!” Pippa leaned out of the carriage offering Hecate a hand up. The driver was on the ground in an instant, taking Hecate’s bag and helping her into the carriage. In no time, Pippa had Hecate in the seat and tucked under a heavy quilt.

“What is all of this?” Hecate asked, inspecting the inside of the carriage and the quilt and… and how lovely Pippa looked in her pink coat and fuzzy white hat. “I don’t understand…” Merciful Merlin… was this a date? Hecate’s eyes widened.

“There’s nothing to understand, Hiccup.” Pippa could see the panic rising in Hecate, and she second-guessed herself again. “I’ve been getting ready for the party all day, and I wanted to relax a bit. With you. This seemed like a fun way to get you to Pentangle’s.” Pippa fluffed and tucked the quilt around them, making sure they were touching, but only just so. She didn’t want to make Hecate any more nervous than she was, or make her feel trapped in any way. “Do you like it?”

In truth? Hecate didn’t know if she liked it or not. But Pippa looked so hopeful and… well, she didn’t dislike it. “It’s… nice… I’ve never done the whole carriage ride thing before. It’s not as cold as I expected.”

Pippa leaned over so the driver couldn’t hear her, whispering in Hecate’s ear. “That’s because I chanted a little bubble over the carriage so it wouldn’t be too cold, just cold enough.” She leaned back, but not quite all the way, and she was immensely pleased when Hecate seemed to relax into her as well. “Isn’t the sky lovely tonight, Hiccup? It’s like you can see the whole Milky Way tonight.”

“It’s beautiful,” Hecate said, pulling her eyes away from Pippa to look up at the sky. “This is lovely. Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming tonight. I promise you’ll have a good time.”

Hecate doubted that. Even in the best of times, parties were not to her liking… but for Pippa she would try. “I’m sure I will.”

Pippa smiled reassuringly. “Would you like some hot cocoa? I got the dark kind that you like with the cinnamon and the hint of cayenne.” She reached into a basket on the floor of the carriage and pulled out two travel-mugs of cocoa. Hecate accepted gratefully.

“You remembered,” Hecate sighed, warming before she’d even taken a sip of the cocoa. One thing she had to admit about Pippa, she remembered details like that. To be honest, Hecate seldom drank cocoa at all anymore, but she’d always loved that particular mix. Pippa had returned to Amulet’s with it after a winter break had taken the Pentangles to Mexico. She’d given Hecate a canister of it every Christmas after, until there weren’t any Christmases after. Hecate hadn’t been able to buy it for herself.

“How could I forget? It’s just like you… dark and spicy…”

“And a little bit bitter?” Hecate said, drily.

Bright laughter bubbled up from Pippa at that. “Just the perfect amount, Hiccup – like good coffee and dark chocolate.” She bumped her with her shoulder. “You always made me laugh more than anyone else.”

Hecate relaxed into the carriage seat. She loved hearing Pippa laugh. Pippa had never laughed at her expense, even when they were girls and she was laughing at something Hecate had said or done. She never laughed at her. And Pippa had always laughed at herself more than anyone else. “You too, Pip. No one has ever made me laugh quite like you did.” It was true, too. She could play with Ada and be silly and Dimity… well, Dimity was amusing in her own way, but Hecate had never found the ability to just let go with anyone else in quite the same way. She wondered if that was still true or if their separation had stolen that as well.

Pippa leaned a bit heavier into her. “You’ve gone into your head, I think, Hecate. Flying after happy memories, I hope?”

“Memories of us from a long time ago,” she said, sadly. “I’m feeling the gap, I suppose.”

Nodding, Pippa hooked her arm through Hecate’s under the blanket. “It creeps up every now and again, doesn’t it, like a familiar chasing down its shadow? When that happens to me, I just focus on my very favorite memory of us until it goes away.”

Hecate turned away, watching the bright lights of the village as they rolled past. “Favorite memory? I don’t…” She started to say she didn’t have one, but that was a lie. One memory shined brighter than all the rest – the first day they’d done their broomstick waterskiing routine perfectly. They’d been so excited, Pippa had flung her arms around Hecate and spun them around until they collapsed onto the grass, laughing and hugging. Pippa had even planted a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek. “The first time we made it through the routine.”

“That’s mine, too.” Pippa pressed tighter against her before settling back. “At least, it used to be.” She felt Hecate stiffen so she added quickly, “Now I think my favorite memory of us hasn’t happened yet.” Hecate loosened, her posture relaxing into the curve of the seat.

They rode the rest of the way in companionable silence, simply enjoying the scenery and the company. As they finally approached Pentangle’s, Hecate could hear the roar of the party blaring from the roof. Her lips pressed together in something she hoped would pass for a smile – or at least something Pippa would pretend was a smile. The driver hopped down from the carriage with practiced grace, hurrying over to assist Hecate and Pippa as they climbed down more cautiously.

Pippa grimaced as she landed on the frozen ground.

“Ankle?” Hecate leaned down to fuss, but Pippa shooed her away.

“It just twinged a bit - wasn’t careful.” She handed Hecate some carrots from her pocket. “Go thank the fellows who did all the work tonight while I settle up, would you?”

Hecate took the carrots and moved around to greet the horses. The first one she came to was a beautiful chestnut with the name ‘Hammurabi’ stamped into his leather horse collar. “Thank you, Hammurabi, for conveying us to our destination.” She held a carrot in her open palm, rubbing the horse’s velvety nose as he nibbled the vegetable and lipped at her hand. “I’m a bit of a fan of Codes as well, you know. Too big, some would say.”

Once he’d finished the carrot, she moved over to the other horse, another chestnut, this one with a white blaze down his forehead. “There’s a handsome boy,” she said, holding out another carrot. Hecate checked the name. “Oh! I beg your pardon, Lady Evangeline! Aren’t I a silly witch?” She rubbed the blaze on Evangeline’s forehead, talking softly to her, and then again to Hammurabi when the big steed nudged her with his nose.

She looked up to find Pippa watching her intently, a small smile on her lips and something unreadable in her eyes. She gave the horses one last rub and joined Pippa on the walkway; by unspoken agreement they watched the carriage until it disappeared around the bend. As soon as it was out of sight, Pippa transferred their belongings to her quarters.

“Shall we head to our party, darling?” Pippa asked, holding out an elbow. “I’ll transfer us right up.”

Hecate would have loved to stay right where she was – or to have stayed in the carriage for that matter, but she squared her shoulders and nodded her head. Pippa snapped her fingers, and they disappeared.

Bracing herself for the noise, Hecate was surprised when they appeared in the blissful quiet of Pippa’s living room. “I don’t…”

“This is our New Year’s Eve, Hiccup. I wouldn’t subject you to the Bacchanalia that’s going on up there.” She snapped her fingers and waved her hands. A mini-buffet table appeared next to the sofa, filled with crudités of all sorts as well as a selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. The chessboard sat ready as did a handful of other games and a movie or two. “I’ll have to make an appearance, and I’d love for you to join me, but I intend for us to celebrate down here. No one up there will even know I’m not there.”

“Y-You did this for me?” Hecate breathed, looking around in amazement.

“I did this for us, Hiccup. It’s a new year and a new start. I wanted it to be something we would both enjoy. Now…” she pointed to the chessboard and arched one eyebrow. “It’s my last opportunity this year to try and even up the score. Let’s play.”

#ww2018winterfluffevent #hicsqueak #hecate hardbroom #pippa pentangle

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