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mrs-gucci · 4 years ago

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Gucci’s Girl [REPOST] {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! I originally wrote this story as an ‘x OC’ because that’s what I was writing at the time, but I decided to change it into an ‘x Reader’ story since that’s what more people like to read!

**I used a translation application for the Italian in this story. Apologies if there are any typos and/or incorrect sentences/grammar. Italian sentences/words are in italics throughout the story with translations after the sentences in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. fluff. grinding. multiple orgasms. pretty vanilla sex.

(possible) tw’s: infidelity (he’s engaged, not married).

SMUT under the CUT!

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname).

“Y/N, will you stay after for a bit?”

Mr. Gucci walks over to your desk.

“I need to ask you something.”

You nod, smiling up at your boss.

“Of course, Mr. Gucci.”

Inside, you were panicking.

He’s never asked you to stay after work before, except on your first day, which made sense. But this doesn’t make sense…

He returns the smile.

“Excellent. Just come to my office.”

You continue to work, faxing and typing away until the clock read five.

Everyone else begins to pack up and bids you farewell as you make your way up to Mr. Gucci’s office.

The wooden door has never looked more intimidating than it does in this moment, as you raise your knuckles and knock.

“Entra in.” (Come in.)

You take a deep breath before you turn the handle, forcing a smile on your face.

He looks so scary and intimidating when he sits at his desk, a fact that, when you told him, made him laugh.

“Ah, yes, Y/N. Come in, sit down.”

The chairs in his office are top-of-the-line, a refreshing change from the less-than luxurious chairs out on the floor.

Mr. Gucci lights a cigarette and takes a drag before standing up and walking around to take a seat in the chair next to you.

When he sees your confused expression, he laughs softly, taking another drag.

“I know you think I look scary sitting back there, and I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Your eyes go wide.

“O-Oh, that’s not what I meant—“

“I know, tesoro.”

He chuckles, eyes flickering over your face before he speaks again.

“So, the annual House of Gucci Ball is coming up, as you know.”

You nod.

“And, I was wondering...would you want to...come with me?”

Your stomach drops.

“W-What?”

The CEO looks incredibly flustered and anxious, a new look for him.

“My fiancée isn’t feeling well and as the head of the House, I really don’t want to go alone…”

In a bold move, you reach out and gently place your hand over his. He looks up at you, and you smile.

“I’d, uhh, I’d love to go, sir. It would be my pleasure.”

“Great.”

The corners of his lips tug up into a genuine smile and his eyes dart away from yours as he takes another drag.

“I’ll have the company tailor come in tomorrow and take your measurements for a gown. And you’ll come here three hours beforehand in order to have hair and makeup done.”

You’re still partially in shock as he discusses dresses and makeup and hair.

It’s become clear to you over the past few weeks that he has feelings for you, and you think they’re the same feelings that you have for him.

But obviously, neither of you can act on them, no matter how badly you wish you could. He’s set to be married in a few months, and there’s a very strict company policy that forbids relationships between workers and their supervisors.

So, it left this unresolved tension between the two of you, and you literally just agreed to spend an entire night at an event with him.

The reality hits and you feel lightheaded.

Oh my god, I’m going to the company ball with Maurizio Gucci.

Four Weeks Later

The elevator dings and you step out into the now-vacant office. You see several people standing around a portable salon setup, and they all turn to look at you.

“Miss Y/N?”

One of them asks.

You nod.

“Si.” (Yes.)

They quickly sit you down in the chair and begin applying makeup and doing your hair.

You’re tearing up a little bit as you look at yourself in the mirror. Clad in a long, form-fitting gown and in full hair and makeup, you look and feel like a princess.

The stylist hands you a small accent clutch and almost immediately after, the elevator dings, and Mr. Gucci steps out, clad in a snappy black suit, not unlike what he wears at work everyday.

That man is never not in a suit, you’ve learned.

His eyes go wide as you step down from the small platform. Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze.

The stylist looks nervous as his eyes roam your figure.

She speaks up a moment later, voice meek.

“Il vestito e il trucco soddisfano i suoi standard, signore?” (Does the dress and makeup meet your standards, sir?)

He tears his eyes away from you, and nods at the stylist.

“Ha superato le mie aspettative.” (It’s exceeded my expectations.)

You’re blushing madly now, unable to meet his eyes as you feel him looking at you again.

Soon, the stylist packs up and leaves just you and Mr. Gucci alone.

He clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“You look...beautiful, absolutely beautiful, tesoro.”

You bite your lip as you look up at him, absolutely starstruck by his handsomeness. He somehow manages to look better and more attractive every time you see him.

“You’re too sweet, sir.”

He takes your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Please, I’m Maurizio tonight.”

You nod, trying his name on your tongue.

“Maurizio.”

Mr. Gucci smiles as he releases your hand. “We have a few minutes before the car gets here...would you like some water? Espresso?”

“I’m alright, but thank you.” You say.

A few moments of sexually-charged silence lingers between you two.

“Thank you for agreeing to join me tonight.”

He says suddenly.

“I always enjoy our time together, Y/N.”

You smile.

“Me too.”

“Really? You do?”

Maurizio blushes slightly.

“It’s just...I’m an old man, you’re a young woman...”

You chuckle as you reach out to hold his hand.

“You’re not old, sir—Maurizio. And yes, really, I do enjoy our time together.”

“I’m glad.”

He says, eyes flicking down to your lips as he leans in a little bit.

Wait...what? Is he gonna… Fuck, oh god, this can’t happen...

Honk!

He flinches at the sound, standing up straight and clearing his throat.

“I guess the car is here.”

You chuckle nervously as he holds out his hand, and you take it, walking alongside him to the elevator.

It’s a short drive to the hotel and when you two arrive, there are swarms of paparazzi, all crowding around the car when the driver pulls to the curb.

Maurizio clearly sees your overwhelmed expression and tension, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Don’t worry, tesoro. Just stay by my side and don’t answer any of their questions, yes?”

You nod and he gets out, walking around to open your door and help you out of the car. Immediately, when the press sees that you’re not his fiancée, the cameras flash even more rapidly and voices overlap one another.

“Sei la nuova fidanzata di Maurizio?” (Are you Maurizio’s new girlfriend?)

“Maurizio, dov’e la tua fidanzata?” (Maurizio, where’s your fiancée?)

“Strumento a mano.” (Gold digger.)

“Puttana americana.” (American whore.)

They were all basically on top of you, asking so many questions and saying so many things about you, it was incredibly overwhelming.

Suddenly, Maurizio’s voice boomed through the crowd, and everyone fell silent.

“Lasciala in pace!” (Leave her alone!)

His arm wraps tighter around your waist, pressing you even further into his side as he walks you both into the building. The cameras and crowds were almost completely silent, still, and you were just trying to process it all as the two of you walked into the event, you still tucked into his side.

He stopped just inside the door and let you go, taking your hands instead, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Are you okay, tesoro? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

You shake your head, still trembling a little bit.

“N-No, I’m okay, just a little shaken up.”

“They’re vicious and relentless...mi dispiace. I should’ve warned you about them beforehand, but I’m relieved that you’re okay.” (I’m sorry)

“It’s okay, Maurizio, really.”

You smile sadly.

“Thank you for helping me.”

He wraps an arm around you again, gently squeezing your hip before rubbing it lightly.

“Of course, anything for mi tesoro. I’m indebted to you for joining me tonight.”

You’re blushing, eyes darting away from his.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. It’s an honor to accompany you, and I’m sorry that my presence caused so much trouble for you, with the press.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He smiles, eyes lingering on you for a moment before guiding you into the massive ballroom.

You’re absolutely stunned by the beauty of it, the chandeliers glittering on the ceiling as they illuminate the entire room.

Maurizio seems to notice your staring, and pauses as well, chuckling softly.

“It’s very pretty, isn’t it?”

You turn to him and nod, smiling.

“It’s beautiful.”

Once you get inside and take your seats, Maurizio is immediately flocked with people wanting to speak with him. Some of them give you a judgemental glance or gaze, and you just look away, taking another sip of your wine.

This is gonna be a long night.

Naturally, Maurizio has been talking to people nonstop all night, which was expected of course, but for some reason, you’d sort of hoped he’d make some time for just the two of you. You genuinely enjoy his company, he’s actually really kind and funny when he’s not in ‘work mode’.

Why would he do that for you? You’re just his replacement date, Y/N, nothing more.

So, you sit back in your chair and casually nibble at the new dinner course that was put on your plates a few minutes ago.

A dance song begins to play and suddenly, Maurizio stands up and holds his hand out for you.

“Would you like to dance, mi tesoro?”

“Absolutely.”

You blush, biting your lip as you stand up.

He places his hand on the small of your back as you two walk onto the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck while he places his hands on your waist, holding you close as the two of you begin gently swaying to the slow tune.

“It’s nice to step away from the table for a bit.”

He says, chuckling.

“I only see these people once a year, so they always want to talk the night away.”

You laugh.

“I understand, and I’m happy that I could provide an excuse for you to get away, even if only for a few minutes.”

“You’re anything but an excuse, Y/N.”

Maurizio says, blushing a bit.

“I’ve been wanting to make some time to spend with you, but I haven’t gotten the opportunity. I’m sorry for that, this must be tedious for you.”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s alright, although I do respect your fiancée much more now that I understand what happens at events like this.”

You jest, and he laughs.

“But, in all seriousness, I’m fine. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to keep me entertained, I understand my role for tonight.”

His face sinks ever so slightly, but he still smiles nonetheless.

“I did hope to spend some time with you, though. Like I said, I enjoy spending time with you.”

The song suddenly ends and a much more upbeat one takes its place.

Maurizio’s face seems to light up, and he smiles widely.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

You’re suddenly lifted up and spun around. You laugh the entire time and he continues spinning you.

The whole world seems to fade and suddenly, it’s just you two on the dancefloor.

Your eyes are glued on one another as he sets you back down, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so genuinely. You briefly wonder how many of these moments he gets to have with his job.

You’re still laughing as he takes your hand and tries to twirl you around. He’s laughing along with you as you start to twirl, but you forgot how long your dress is, and you start to fall backwards.

A strong arm reaches down and scoops you up before you can hit the floor, and suddenly, you’re centimeters away from his face, his breath tickling your skin.

He’s still smiling as he slowly stands back up with you in his arms.

“Be careful, tesoro. We’re not taking any trips to the emergency room tonight, okay?”

You smile, unable to bring yourself to take your eyes off of him as you’re placed back onto your feet, his arm still around you, holding you close.

You allow yourself, for the first time since your internship began, to take in all of his features. You let your eyes drink in his beauty and it feels like time has stopped. He’s even more handsome up-close, his pale skin a stark contrast to his dark eyes and the freckles sprinkled across his features.

Before you know it, he leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, his lips so close now.

“Voglio davvero baciarti, tesoro.” (I really want to kiss you right now, treasure.)

He whispers.

His voice is so deep, yet soft and full of yearning. It sends a chill down your spine.

“Non ti fermero, bello.” (I’m not going to stop you, handsome.)

“Bene.” (Good.)

He leans forward the rest of the way and your lips connect in a tender embrace.

You close your eyes and let your hand reach up to cradle the side of his face.

He soon pulls away, a face-splitting grin on his face.

You’re wearing a similar expression.

“Mi chiedevo quando l’avresti finalmente fatto.” (I was wondering when you were finally going to do that.)

You giggle, nuzzling your nose against his slightly.

Maurizio laughs softly.

“Mi chiedevo quando avrei dovuto farlo anch’io.” (I was wondering when I was going to do it, as well.)

The moment is quickly ruined when you realize exactly where you are, and you’re afraid to know how many people saw that. You quickly stand up straight and so does he, both of you taking a small step away from each other as you straighten yourselves out.

When you turn back towards the table, all of the people stare right at you, and you feel your face get hot. You look up at Maurizio when he comes up beside you.

“I think I’ll just catch a cab back to the house…”

You say, looking down.

He looks over at the table, seeing his work colleagues giving you judgemental glares. His finger gently lifts your chin until you’re looking up at him again.

“Let me take you back, tesoro. It’s the least I can do, and we can talk about...everything.”

You nod.

“I’m really sorry about this…”

Maurizio shakes his head.

“No, tesoro, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have done that in such a public space.”

Your cheeks get warmer.

“Are you saying that you still would’ve done it?”

His cheeks go pink as he looks away.

“Yes, I still would’ve kissed you, Y/N.”

Is this real?

He clears his throat, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“Why don’t you go up to the front while I retrieve our stuff from the table? I’ll make sure that no one says anything or thinks poorly of you.”

“Thank you.”

You say, smiling.

“I’ll get them to call us a cab.”

He’s at the table for about five minutes while you wait by the door, anxious for what’s to come.

“Sorry, mi tesoro, they tried to tell me that I shouldn’t leave early. But, I insisted on seeing you safely back to your house.”

“If you need to stay…”

You begin, but are quickly stopped.

“No, I’m going with you.”

You’re so flattered that he would leave the biggest company party of the year just for you. You.

The cab arrives shortly after and you two walk out into the warm Italian night air, hopping into the car. His hand rests gently on your thigh as the car pulls away from the curb.

He sighs.

“I’m sorry that I got you involved in this. My life is...complicated, especially as someone constantly under the public eye.”

You don’t even want to ask this next question, but you have to.

“Maurizio, are you still engaged?”

His head turns away to look out the window.

“I’m not sure.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean, you aren’t sure? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Patrizia left me last night and she hasn’t come back.”

He says, choking up a bit.

You gently put your hand over his and he looks over at you.

“I’m really sorry, that’s...terrible. Did she say why?”

“I told her that I was taking you tonight, and she got upset.”

He sighed.

“She asked me if I had feelings for you, since I talk to her about you almost every day…”

“You talk about me?”

Maurizio smiles softly, nodding. “Of course I do. Ever since you’ve been here, the office has been...happier. I’ve been happier.”

You take a deep breath, trying not to freak out over what you’re hearing.

“S-So, when she asked you if you had feelings for me...what did you tell her?”

He turns fully to the side, bringing a hand up to cup your face.

“Le ho detto la verita, che mi sono sentito per te sin dal primo giorno in cui sei entrato in ufficio.” (I told her the truth, that I’ve felt for you since the first day you walked into the office.)

You can’t help but smile as your face warms again, eyes darting away from his as he continues.

“Sono un uomo migliore con te nella mia vita, tesoro.” (I’m a better man with you in my life, treasure.)

“Maurizio, I…”

You begin, trying to find the right words.

“Lo so che non dovrei, ma mi sento anche per te.” (I know I shouldn’t, but I feel for you, too.)

He smiles, leaning in closer.

“Qual e la ragione dell-amore senza rischi?” (What is the point of love without risk?)

This time, you close the gap between your lips. His other hand comes to hold your face as you kiss, so much passion and want in every movement of your lips together.

You move closer, legs draping over his lap.

Just as you make a move to sit on his lap, the cab pulls up to your house, forcing you apart.

Both of you are panting softly, eyes staring deep into each other’s.

“Tesoro, ti prego, faccio l’amore stasera.” (Treasure, please, let me make love to you tonight.)

He leans in and crashes your lips together again, this kiss filled with urgency, with lust, with need.

You nod, biting your lip.

“Ti voglio. Ho bisogno di te, per favore.” (I want you. I need you, please.)

Maurizio smiles, paying the driver before quickly hopping out of the car, rushing around to let you out. As soon as you step out, you’re swept up off your feet and carried bridal-style to the front door. You unlock the door and he quickly closes it with his foot.

You reach up and begin planting kisses on his neck, enjoying the way he sighs softly.

“Which one is yours?”

He asks, breathily.

“Upstairs, the loft.”

He makes his way up the small flight of stairs.

“Is anyone else here?”

You nod. “They’re all on the first floor.”

Maurizio hums, gently placing you down on the bed before shedding his suit coat, hanging it on your desk chair, followed by his tie. He takes off his loafers and socks, placing them beneath his other clothes.

You’d barely gotten your heels off at the point. He laughs when he turns around and sees you struggling to get the shoes off. He quickly pulls it off and tosses it on the floor, holding your foot while he kisses your ankle and calf.

He takes a moment to look at you laid back on the bed, once neatly done hair loosened, makeup a bit smudged. His lips pulled up into a smile, teeth playfully scraping at your ankle bone.

“You have too much on, mi tesoro.”

You smile, standing up and turning away from him, silently asking him to unbutton and unzip your dress. He steps up behind you, breaths hot on your neck as his fingers work the buttons.

His lips begin planting kisses on your shoulders, soon undoing the zipper, freeing you from the dress. You step out and stand before him in just your underwear, looking away as his eyes rake over your figure.

Your cheeks grow hotter when you look down to see the tent growing in his dress pants.

“Etereale.” (Ethereal.)

He mutters, fingers working the buttons of his shirt, gently tossing it with his other clothes before working at the buckle on his belt.

“Formidabile.” (Gorgeous.)

The leather belt was soon tossed onto the growing pile of clothing. He unbuttons his pants before stepping forward again, now almost right up against you.

His hand wraps around your wrist and brings your palm to the tent in his pants, growling softly when it touches. He leaned forward, lips at your ear.

“For you, tesoro. All for you.”

You shudder as his lips plant kisses all over your neck while his hands roam your bare body, fingers teasing your breasts.

“You’re so sensitive.”

He breathes, hands squeezing your breasts gently.

“When was the last time someone touched you like this, hm?”

“It’s been a w-while.”

You say, gasping when his thumb rolls over your pebbled nipple.

“O-Oh…”

Maurizio grins, placing one more kiss on your neck before standing up straight, tugging his pants and boxers down. You watch in amazement when his length bobs as it’s exposed, mouth watering at the sight.

He smirks. “Do you see something you like?”

“Absolutely.”

You reply, biting your lip.

He laughs softly.

“Well...would you like to touch it?”

His cheeks flush pink.

You nod, reaching to wrap your hand around the base. His eyes flutter shut at your touch, and he sucks in a breath when you begin stroking.

“Mmmmm, davvero buono.” (so good.)

His head falls back when you increase your pace, hips gently rutting forward. His eyebrows knit in the center of his forehead, small moans escaping his lips.

Suddenly, he pulls away, letting out a shaky breath as his length stirs at the loss of contact.

“You are too good at that, mi tesoro.”

He bites his lip, fingertips teasing the lace waistband of your panties.

“May I touch you now?”

You nod, jumping softly when he all but tears the material down your legs, exposing your folds. He reaches down and cups your center, eyes widening when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh,”

He whispers, fingers tracing up to rub your clit.

“Tesoro...you’re so excited already, and I haven’t even touched you.”

Your hips suddenly buck forward out of instinct, and Maurizio chuckles breathily, rubbing a bit faster. You gasp, breath catching in your throat.

“S-Shit.”

You allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure, head falling forward onto his chest. The small noises falling from your lips get increasingly louder as you draw closer and closer to release.

His fingers suddenly push up into you, and you almost cum right on the spot. His digits feel so much better than yours as they begin plunging in and out, scissoring occasionally.

“Lasciatemi prendere, tesoro, e ti acchiappero.” (Let go for me, treasure, and I will catch you.)

He whispers breathily, stroking faster.

“Andiamo.” (Let go.)

His fingers curl up inside of you, and after a few rubs on your g-spot, you’re coming with a soft cry.

“Maurizio...oh mio dio…” (Maurizio...oh my god…)

Your knees buckle and you begin to fall, but he catches you immediately, smiling down at you as his fingers continue to work you through your climax. He leans over to kiss you again, slowly and gently pulling his fingers out.

“Lay back, mi tesoro, and open your legs.”

He whispers against your lips, standing back up straight as you sit down on the edge of the bed before laying back.

You spread my legs, ready to receive him, and he smiles as he climbs on top of you. He’s still wearing his glasses, and while you find that humorous and quite frankly cute, it’s also incredibly arousing for some reason. You don’t dwell on it, wanting to focus on the moment unfolding before your eyes.

Maurizio strokes his hardened length a few times, grunting softly, before rubbing himself across your folds. His eyes shut and he takes a shaky breath as your slick spreads across his cock. He starts pressing and rubbing the tip against your clit for a bit, smirking when your hips buck up against him.

He looks down at you, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Are you ready? I’ll go slow for you, tesoro.”

You nod and he pushes in slowly, growling softly. He shivers, stopping when he’s about halfway in.

“Is it still okay?”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pushing his hips forward while you scoot closer, pushing him in the rest of the way.

“D-Does that answer your question?”

You chuckle.

He laughs breathily, nodding.

“Indeed, it does.”

You take deep breaths while you adjust to his size, soon nodding, letting him know that it’s okay for him to move. He pulls about halfway out before pushing back in again, exhaling loudly as he establishes a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts.

“O-Oh, cazzo, sei fantastico.” (Oh, fuck, you feel amazing.)

Your jaw hangs open, body bouncing with each of his inward thrusts. You hold onto his biceps for dear life as his pace increases ever so slightly.

“Maurizio,”

You breathe, looking up into his eyes.

“Keep going, please.”

The bed squeaks as his hips’ movements grow more desperate.

“Tesoro, I--cazzo--I’m not going to last.” (fuck)

He says, eyebrows knitted on his forehead.

“I h-haven’t done this--merda--in a w-while.” (shit)

You nod in understanding, moving your hands up to cup the sides of his face.

“It’s okay, M-Maurizio, it’s alright.”

His eyes meet yours as he growls softly, shaking his head.

“No, it’s n-not. You deserve better, t-the best, Y/N.”

Your thumb swipes on his cheekbone as his eyes tear up with a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

“Y-You already are the best, bello, and I w-want you to cum, no m-matter if I have o-or not. I want you to p-pleasure yourself, okay? Don’t worry about m-me.” (handsome)

He smiles softly, falling onto his elbows, lips connecting with yours as he thrusts get harder. He grunts deeply with each thrust, breath hot and heavy on the side of your neck.

“Oh tesoro, I’m...close. Where…”

He searches for the right words, mind clouded with lust. He groans in frustration.

“Dove vuoi che sborra?” (Where do you want me to cum?)

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently.

“Sono sulla pillola. Puoi sborra dentro, se vuoi, bello.” (I’m on the pill. You can cum inside, if you want, handsome.)

These words seem to awaken something in him, his eyes going black, hips suddenly rutting quickly and desperately into you.

“Cazzo, sei incredibile, sei perfetto, tesoro.” (Fuck, you’re amazing, you’re perfect, treasure.)

Maurizio buries his face into the crook of your neck as he reaches climax, moans and gasps muffled by your skin. He buries his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls with his release, rutting them desperately as he fills you up.

“Y/N, oh dio, prendi tutto per me. Bene, sei bravissima, mi tesoro.” (Y/N, oh god, take it all for me. Good, you’re so good, my treasure).

As soon as he finishes, his hand reaches down to rub your clit in circles, eyes meeting yours.

“C’mon, let me pleasure you now. Let go, tesoro, give yourself to me.”

Your back arches and your hips grind against his fingers, mouth full of whimpers, whines, and gasps as his fingers rub you. You grab onto his bicep when you cum, looking up into his eyes.

“Yes, oh Maurizio, yes!”

You gasp, moaning softly as your release spreads throughout your body.

He continues to rub you through it, cock twitching slightly where it still sits inside of you, causing him to growl softly.

After both of you take a moment to catch your breaths, he slowly pulls out, and you can see that he’s already hard again. He blushes, looking away for a moment.

“I...I’m sorry, that’s never happened before…”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Maurizio, you don’t need to apologize. It’s actually sort of flattering, that I can do that to you.”

He smiles softly, laying down next to you, pulling you back against him. You didn’t realize exactly how hard he actually was until you felt him pressed against your back, and you felt bad.

“Do you…I mean, I can...”

You trail off, a bit embarrassed, hoping he got the point.

Maurizio immediately shakes his head.

“No, tesoro, don’t worry. I will be okay.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip before you speak.

“If you wanted to, you could...rub it against me.”

You feel his member twitch at your proposition, and you turn around in his arms, looking up at him. His cheeks are bright red.

“Will you show me?”

He asks quietly.

You smile, nodding.

“All you have to do is start moving your hips against me, using my skin to rub on.”

He experimentally rolls his hips, jaw clenched as he tries to contain himself.

“O-Oh.”

He tried it again, growling as his cock dragged along your stomach.

“Tesoro, it’s…”

You can’t pretend that this isn’t incredibly arousing for you to watch and feel. His tip was already red and leaking, so you knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

“Does it feel good, Maurizio?”

You feel him nod, hips moving faster now as he looks down at you.

“Yes, cristo, it’s s-so good.” (christ)

His lips crash onto yours and he loops an arm behind you, holding you still as he begins rutting against you, growling into your mouth. He moves his head down to kiss and nip at your neck.

“Your s-skin is so soft, mi tesoro.”

He whispers, grunting with each forward motion now.

His leg lifts up and lays over your hip, allowing him to thrust harder, hand still on your lower back. He’s close, you can tell, and you attentively watch the way his face contorts as he reaches orgasm.

He suddenly hugs you tight, a choked sob against your neck as his seed spills all over your stomach and his.

“Ah! Ah--oh--cristo!” (christ)

You run your hands through his hair soothingly as he comes down, trembling slightly. He slides down your body a bit, resting his head between your breasts, kissing them gently.

After a short while, he looks up at you.

“Grazie, Y/N, grazie mille.” (Thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.)

You smile.

“You don’t have to thank me, Maurizio, it was my pleasure.”

He reaches up and connects your lips in a tender yet passionate kiss before he pulls away, cringing when he feels the stickiness between you.

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’ve never...that’s never…”

You kiss him again, cutting him off.

“No worries, we can just clean it off. I’ll get a wet washcloth.”

You stand and come back a moment later with a wet washcloth, reaching down to wipe yourself off before Maurizio’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you.

“Let me.”

He smiles, taking the cloth from your hand, cleaning up the sticky substance before doing the same to himself.

Your cheeks are warm as you look up at him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, mi tesoro.”

He suddenly looks away, frowning softly.

“I-I can’t stay tonight, Y/N, I’m sorry. If someone catches us…”

You shake your head, holding the side of his face.

“No, no need to explain. I understand.”

Maurizio nods silently, sighing as he begins to redress. You slip your panties back on, along with an oversized t-shirt and you pull your hair up into a ponytail.

When he’s ready, you offer to go first, in case anyone’s still awake. He agrees, and you make your way down the stairs, looking around, not seeing anyone. You look up the stairs and nod, indicating that it’s okay. He makes his way down and you walk with him to the door.

“Do you have a car coming?”

He nods. “My driver is already outside.”

There’s a moment of silence before Maurizio suddenly grabs your hips, pulling you against him as his lips crash down onto yours, the kiss desperate and full of longing. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down closer.

He pulls away slowly, eyes fluttering open.

“Alla prossima, tesoro.” (Until next time, my treasure.)

You smile, biting your lip as he sneaks out the door, rushing down and hopping into the car waiting for him.

As you watch his car pull away from the curb, only one thought occupies your mind:

Holy shit, I just slept with Maurizio Gucci.

#adamdriverwriter #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #maurizio gucci #maurizio gucci smut #maurizio gucci fluff #maurizio gucci x reader #maurizio gucci x you #maurizio gucci x reader smut #maurizio gucci x reader fluff #tw: infidelity #house of gucci

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actualbird · 3 years ago

Note

Hello Zak! Glad to be here on the game show tonight, it’s an honor. Let me first say though that I feel lik an alien who's only been on earth for about a month, is still trying to blend in, and now is on Jeopardy!!! Truly a wondrous life I'm living. But onto the show. My answers for which I think are truths are 1,2,3,7,10. My reasons for why I did or did not pick an answer are:

1. I want it to be true

2. There's no doubt in my mind that he could and would do that.

3. I hav no clue what nyctophobia is and that makes it seem smart and true

4. I also want this to be true but I don’t trust it enough

5. It sounds like something he’d do but I might cry so I’m choosing not to believe it

6. Fake wikipedia my beloved, you can only be but a fantasy

7. He scares me! (affectionate)

8. He has to hav every doctorate ever. Or at least more than 2. He seems lik that kinda bitch

9. They didn’t hav a bunk bed they had a loft bed and mc slept in it while luke (of his own accord) slept on the floor. Sorry i don’t mak the rules

10. This seems very realistic, unfortunately

irt the tears of themis 5 truths, 5 lies gameshow

kJSDJGBKJSD HI KITKAT! welcome to my gameshow because i love to terrorize the wonderful ppl who follow me!!! i love the alien on jeopardy image youve painted for me, how i wish that were my life...

anyway, onto your answers!!!:

four out of five of the numbers you listed are correctly true and canon!! for somebody who knows only about tot from my blog and---judging by the rationale uve given me---is mostly answering thru sheer vibes, four out of five is GREAT

heres the answer key if u wanna see specifically which ones are canon or not :DDD

and also ur rationales killing me.

i rlly want the luke in trees thing to be canon but alas i made that up bc it is so endearing to me to have little kid luke pearce up in a tree just CRYING (i hc he was a huge crybaby before his self consciousness and self loathing crashed into his brain at around 11 or 12 years old) for help to get down

trust that marius is shit at anything music related. TRUST!!!

huge kudos on not trusting the fake wikipedia artem one because i fooled a bunch of ppl merely thru the bit i put in parenthesis where i act as if it rlly did happen in the game HAHA. oh man, just from that, youd see through 80% of the lies i tell irl kJBKJFGKS

THE LOFTBED HEADCANON, SO CUTE!!!

vyn having 2 doctorates is a huge meme in the fandom. look, we even have a gif for it!!

thanks for playing and i hope u had fun :DDD

#kittykat5e #asks #ppl actually participating like this (and a bunch on twt cuz i crossposted) has brought me SO MUCH JOY HAHA

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chemicalarospec · 4 years ago

Text

Tone indicator list but it’s only the ones I’ve seen people actually use

Right what it says in the tin. I’ll probably give commentary because I can never stop myself from giving commentary.

If you don’t know, tone indicators are put at the end of sentences in order to make them easier to interpret and better convey intended emotion. They can be put before or after punctuation. I sometimes use parenthesis, but mostly they’re just there.

/j - /joking - basic bench. I use it a lot. along with /s, the first one I heard of. In fact, I mostly figured out the rest by seeing them.

/s - /sarcastic - has a clear, useful purpose. ig I’m never sarcastic, because I never use it lol

/lh - /light hearted - often used when something shouldn’t be taken seriously, but isn’t a joke, per say. Very common.

/gen - /genuine - for use when there’s a high chance something will be assumed to be a joke that is not. This is the one I’ve seen the most annoyance at overuse of, so use sparingly -- don’t just put it at the end of every sentence

/srs - /serious - like /gen but worse (I just like /gen better -- /srs is too similar to /s.) Like /gen, this is prone to overuse so use sparingly

/gen is more common with questions and /srs with statements. I think. Maybe.

If you’re looking at this list for an idea of which to use, just pick one of these. you probably won’t need it that much anyways haha.

/lyr - /lyrics - this one’s good for when you want to reference a song but don’t want to look like you’re speaking weird nonsense. Usually in captions.

Bonus:

lol at the end of sentences does the same job as /lh, but milder. Also just used to not seem overly serious, judgemental, or rude -- probably why I wanted put it in earlier in “/s”s definition. Same goes for “haha”, “lmao,” and other similar phrases, much like emojis and emoticons are used to show emotion is genuine. (But you probably know this already lol.)

I’ll update this list if needs be, or if I forgot one, but off the top of my head, these are the only tone indicators I’ve really seen used.

Honestly, this is all you have to know. If you want to convey something not on this list, it’s probably best to go the (derogatory) (affectionate) meme route, as it’ll make sense to the most people.

I hope this helps!

#tone indicators #communication #internet #internet culture #tone #I said this #things i've said

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thomothysdoodles · 5 years ago

Note

[slides into your inbox, whispers] This is the "Dark has a black and white cat" anon again.... my associates and I have consulted amongst ourselves some more, and come to the conclusion that we're quite fond of the thought of Host having a cat as well (orange tabby, skinny as a rail, very screechy but affectionate).... that is all....... [lingers ominously]

You and your associates gotta show you face!!! Also it amuses too much the stuff you put in the [parenthesis] lol

#the host #the host markiplier #markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier fanart #requested!#my doodles

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dat-fandom-losertown · 5 years ago

Text

Happy NHPC Day!

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Chapter 2

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Spideypool / Peter Parker + Wade Wilson

Warnings: None, unless you click the first link in this chapter. It’s just a flower, but it’s mildly NSFW?

Word Count: 4,862

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <~

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: Heyy... 😅 It's way past Feb. 15th now, but the 15th was my brother's 15th birthday, and I got roped into the activities (for the literal first time in 10 years lmao), then later that evening there was a power outage due to a huge wind storm. As for the rest of the days, I kinda just... didn't post the finished product for some reason? Like, I rewrote this thing, like, four times (and I still hate this but it's whatever at this point I guess), then I thought I posted it on the 16th but didn't?? So I was checking my other work and saw this was uncompleted?? So here! Take the late chapter! Better late than never I guess? 😅😂

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

{ Yellow } [ White ]

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

The first and only thing Wade notices when he wakes up is that Peter is still in his arms. He rubs his face along Peter’s bare back and neck, enjoying the warmth and softness of his skin.

[ That’s strange. He’s usually up early. ]

{ Yea. One of those nasty “Early to bed, Early to rise” people. Honestly, don’t they see the appeal of nighttime? }

The second thing Wade notices when he wakes up are those fucking boxes, and the blissful “I just woke up and can’t remember much” feeling is gone instantly.

{ Uh, rude! }

[ No, that’s fair. You’re an idiot ]

{ Again, rude! And hypocritical! }

He ignores them both in favor of hugging his boyfriend tighter. Once he does, Peter exits out of whatever app he had on his phone and rolls over in his arms so their noses almost touch.

“Good morning.” he says lowly, looking like he just woke up but sounding like he’s been up for a while. He must have just never gotten out of bed.

“Mmm… Mornin’ hot stuff.” Wade can’t resist kissing him sweetly. “What has you in bed still? Hm?”

Peter smiles, and it lights up his beautiful brown eyes. Whoever says that brown eyes aren’t beautiful can go fuck themselves. Peter is living proof that eyes like that may as well be the most delicious chocolate, they’re so alluring.

[ I don’t think you’d describe chocolate as alluring… ]

{ Speak for yourself. My problem is that now I can’t stop thinking about that trend where couples would lick each other’s eyeballs. Please don’t tell me you’re going to do that to Petey, are you? }

[ Even I know to have more confidence in him than that. Maybe. ]

“Didn’t people die from that? Or go blind?” Wade murmurs out loud, knowing Peter doesn’t care when he does.

“What did?” he asks back.

“People licking other people’s eyeballs.”

Peter gets that look on his face that he denies having. The one that says “I really wanna question where that came from because that was completely random and unrelated to our conversation, but I also don’t want to know the answer because I’m scared of the rabbit trail that lead you to it.” He rarely asks how he got to whatever topic he randomly brought up, but he always humors Wade and answers him as if he was talking to him and not the voices in his head.

His expression turns to one of hesitant acceptance. “What are you talking about?”

“When people were licking each other’s eyeballs for that one trend.”

Peter just nods. “I think people went blind, but I don’t think anyone died. It was a risk, but wasn’t that back in, like, 2013 or something?”

Wade shrugs and kisses Peter again. “Dunno. Yellow mentioned it cause your eyes look like chocolate. No worries, though, licking eyes is nasty.” he adds at Peter’s concerned and disgusted look.

“Good, cause I’d never allow it.”

“Same here.”

There’s a minute of peaceful, comfortable silence before Peter breaks it.

“Why the hell do all of our morning conversations end up like this?”

[ Because you have even less of a filter than you normally do, which shouldn’t even be possible, but it is. Honestly, it’s terrifying. ]

“White says it’s because we have less of a head to mouth filter than normal when we’re first waking up.” Wade paraphrases.

Peter nods again, “Yeah… It’s probably a good thing you rarely see me when I first get up.”

{ He probably says some really cute things! Or maybe it would be much dirtier ;) }

[ I can’t tell if you said “colon end parenthesis” out loud or just implanted a picture of a winky face in our heads and it’s making me uncomfortable. ]

{ Well technically you don’t have a head to implant that to. And I’ll do whatever the hell I want, so the readers won’t even get to know the answer to your inquiry. }

[ Ooo, big word for you. ]

{ Yeah, bigger than your tiny– }

“Wade, are the voices bothering you?” Peter interrupts, causing Wade to smile.

“Nah, honey, they’re bothering each other more than me.”

He affectionately bumps his forehead on his Peter’s and leaves it there, basking in the warmth.

{ You should ask Peter! }

“Ask him what?” Wade almost groans.

{ If he says cute or dirty thing, of course! }

“No. Later. ‘M warm.”

{ Pansy. }

[ Right now he looks more like an Orchis italica than a Pansy, really. ]

“Do I wanna know what those look like?”

“What?” Peter pulls back.

{ Yesss! Nirlan left the links there for a reason! }

[ Who the fuck is Nirlan? ]

{ Gasp! How dare you not know the name of the author of this fanfic! }

[ There’s so many authors and artists out there, how are we supposed to ever keep up with them? ]

“Can we not? It’s too early to be breaking this many walls…” Wade complains because hot damn the boxes are getting annoying, and, quite frankly, they’re taking over the fic at this point.

The boxes don’t even get to respond before Peter is on Wade, kissing him in a way that is neither soft nor chaste.

“Need a distraction?” he asks with that sexy smirk of his.

“Always.”

{ I guess it’s dirty things, heheh ;) }

[ I swear to god– ]

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

“And you’re sure that two hours is enough time for you to browse around? And you won’t get something absurdly expensive, even though we can afford it?” Peter asks for the third time right before they split up. Wade doesn’t even blame him for asking. They both know how he can get sometimes when shopping without a list.

“I promise I won’t get distracted and show up three hours late with nothing or too much to show for it.” He hesitates, “Well, I can’t promise on the late part, but if I am late, I’ll have a really good present to make up for it!” He says it in his usual joking manner, but they both know that he’ll be on time unless something super-vigilante-y (‘cause he may be super, but he ain’t no hero) happens.

Peter smiles in a way he can only describe as fond. Wade remembers when he was shocked every time he saw it on the other’s face, back when their relationship was newer and Wade’s self-esteem at an almost all-time low. Now, though, it only brings a rush of warmth. This person, this beautiful, humble, kind, strong man loves him– Him! A mess of a barely-if-at-all-human being that used to kill a shit ton of people for money and fun (even though they were all baddies, it still goes against the “Spidey Code”)– enough to smile all dopily at seemingly random times. Like, how did he ever get so lucky? What did he do in his past life do deserve such a sweet reward for going through the horrors he has?

[ Maybe it’s less about previous lives and more about karma. You used to be an asshole and killed almost indiscriminately, so karma punished you. But then you started killing only people who had no right being alive, and here we are. ]

{ White! Did you just call Wade a good person! I thought you didn’t care! }

[ Shut the hell up. The only thing I did was say that maybe karma realized that it went a little too far. I mean– ]

“Wade, you alright?” Peter voices, holding Wade’s wrist and looking far more concerned than he should.

“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “Yeah, actually. I think White just indirectly called me a good person.”

[ I did fucking not! ]

“Or, well, that I’m a good enough person now that karma decided I deserved one last good thing after all the shit it’s been giving me all my life. But close enough, right?”

And there goes Peter, smiling that same fond smile as before, even if it has a touch more worry in it than it did before. Wade practically melts.

“Of course you’re a good person. I don’t date just anyone, you know.” Peter kisses him quickly before letting go of his wrist. “Now we really should go get those presents. Meet back at the apartment in two hours, or sooner if we find something before then?”

“You know it.” Wade blows him a large kiss with a wink.

Peter catches it in a fist, which he then kisses and puts in his pocket before turning around. Wade follows his lead and turns to jog across the street while the crosswalk sign is still green. The bounce in his step doesn’t leave even as he slows to a casual stroll, or as casual as it can be in the middle of fucking New York City.

God, never in a million years did he think he’d be a part of that couple. The couples who shamelessly blow kisses and make goo-goo eyes at each other in public. At least, not when it’s no longer the obnoxious honeymoon phase with someone he doesn’t really care for and he’s trying to subtly drive them away. He and Peter certainly aren’t in the honeymoon phase anymore, and Wade is actually trying his best to keep his boyfriend around for as long as possible this time before he inevitably ups and leaves.

[ At least you’re self aware in that aspect. Nothing lasts forever. Even if you and him did, you realize that chances of you outliving him just because he ages is extremely likely, if not certain? ]

{ So you should get him a present now! A really, really good one! Not like your prank anniversary gift. }

“Hell no, nothing like that. I was cleaning slime and glitter for weeks.”

[ It was only four days. ]

“Yeah. Like I said, weeks.”

{ So what should we get Peter? }

[ We? ]

{ Yes we! I want to get him one too this time! He’s the only person besides Wade who tries to talk to us! }

[I suppose that’s true… ]

Wade can practically feel White thinking this over, but he already knows that there’s no swaying Yellow about this. He doubts (hopes) that Peter doesn’t mind that they got him stuff too. He already has plenty of reminders that Wade is insane as it is.

{ A blanket won’t do! And he doesn’t like stuffed animals like we do! }

[ And he doesn’t like shoes or socks around the house because he falls off the ceiling easier. Mittens and gloves are out of the picture for the same reason. ]

Huh, so White is planning to get Peter something, then.

[ If I’m forced to, then a new camera. It’s functional and he’s been wanting that new Canon one. ]

That is very true. Back when he and Peter were first moving into their current apartment (which is way nicer than either of them had before, Wade because he had no self-respect, and Peter because he had no money) found his old camera and eventually got back into the hobby. When he bought a more professional upgrade so he could dabble in selling some of his stuff, it ended up having a built in flash that turned on whenever it was darker than “in direct sunlight” unless he put it on the shitty “No Flash” setting. He returned it pretty quickly, but he still hasn’t bought a new one yet.

Fuck, that would have actually been a really cool gift idea, and if White’s taking it–

[ We’ll share it. ]

Wade stumbles in the middle of the sidewalk.. Did he just hear that right?

{ Holy shit, I think you did! }

[ Fuck off. You guys are hopeless. This is an offer of pity. ]

{ And that sounded very tsundere of you. }

[ And I’m not going to grace that with a response. ]

{ Let it be known that White actually cares! }

[ Do you never listen? ]

Wade tunes the boxes out while they argue. As much as the camera is such a good idea– and he will be getting that; he’s on his way to a store he vaguely knows of to check for the one he thinks he remembers Peter wanting– he doesn’t like the idea of getting Peter something that White thought of before he did. It doesn’t exactly shout “I’m a good boyfriend” to buy something someone else suggested, even if he’s positive he would have thought of it eventually, if given some time.

By the time he reaches the store, interrogates a knowledgeable employee and the internet for what the best Canon camera for Peter might be, buys a camera, extra lenses, a small, foldable camera stand, a reflector of the same variety, and a large, red and grey camera bag, and walks out of the store with several bags, the boxes have moved on from arguing and are strangely into the whole gift-giving thing. It was actually Yellow’s idea to get the stand and backpack, and White’s idea to get the extra lenses.

He finds an empty alleyway to dump all of this stuff out and organize the goods into the backpack. He’s not stupid, he knows that alleys are usually where various crimes happen, but he’s also not so stupid as to let someone sneak up on him, either. This alley is completely empty, and it will stay that way either because no one comes around, or he returns it to its empty state. No one’s stealing his baby boy’s Half-Priced Candy Day present on his watch.

It doesn’t take nearly as long to organize everything into and on the bag as Wade thought. Just put the default lense on the body of the camera and stuff that and the charger into the biggest hole in the bag, the other lenses get caps on both ends and they get put in the smaller ones. The reflector get is put on top of those and the bag still closes just fine, and the collapsible stand can be strapped to the side of this particular bag. He tosses all the boxes and bags into the nearby dumpster after pulling the camera bag on like a backpack and he’s ready to go.

He casually heads out and starts making his way towards Target. That place usually has unique games that he and Peter sometimes play with a couple of other friends. That, and they usually have sinfully soft pillows, blankets, and sheets. He would get an indoor hammock chair, but they don’t own their current apartment and he doesn’t want to risk ruining the ceiling in order to hang it up. Besides, he doesn’t feel like carrying something like that back from Target by foot.

[ So by process of elimination, you’re getting yet another soft blanket or pillow? ]

“Listen, I don’t need your sass. There is no such thing as too many soft things, and Peter completely agrees.” he responds out loud. He is far beyond not giving a fuck about what other people (who aren’t Peter, of course) think about him.

{ That may be so, but, like, this is your chance to buy matching onesies? }

“Peter doesn’t like onesies. They get too hot for him too fast, and they usually fall under the ‘no shoes or socks’ thing.” Wade gasps, “Gloves! He doesn’t like gloves because they cover his fingertips!”

[ Yes, we all knew this Wade– ]

“So finger-less gloves should be fine, right? I could buy a pair or two or seven for him!”

{ All different colors and patterns! And they’re still soft! }

Wade hums happily as he skips into Target. He walks in with the resolve to buy at least five pairs of finger-less gloves, but probably more. After a while of looking around and mild complaining and raving, though, he ends up walking out with two pairs of finger-less gloves (one black and one mitten-convertible pair that are navy blue), an expansion pack for Exploding Kittens, some discount candy, a case of Peter’s favorite soda, and a grey teddy bear that is soft soft he couldn’t not get it (he made sure to get the one with the wonky face, though, because he and Peter always grab the ones with “personality”).

A glance at his watch tells him that he’s already 15 minutes late, and he still has to walk home.

“Shit!”

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Wade bursts through the apartment door, panting. Sprinting up the stairs instead of waiting a minute for the elevator probably wasn’t the best call.

“Peter?” he calls out before he even gets inside.

“I’ll be right out!” he hears from their bedroom.

He heaves a sigh, closing the door behind him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I took so long.” he says at a normal, indoor volume, knowing Peter can still hear him clear as day, “I really didn’t mean to be late this time, but when I finally got out of Target I was already ten minutes late and I didn’t want to run and accidentally drop something, y’know?”

Peter walks out of the bedroom, and Wade notes how he carefully kept the door closed just enough to where he can’t see inside.

{ Ooo!! I wonder what it is! Maybe a new comforter? }

[ God, there’s no more fucking room in the closet for this shit. ]

“Hi, honey.” Wade greets softly. His face feels warm and soft, so he knows he’s making heart-eyes at Peter, but he just can’t help it!

“Hey, love.” Peter greets back, stepping forward and taking Wade’s face in his hands.

They meet in the middle in a soft kiss, then lean each other’s foreheads against one another. It makes Wade suddenly aware of how much he missed Peter. Like, he normally isn’t this clingy, but NHPC day is meant for sleeping and cuddles and all Petey time.

“As much as I liked trying to find surprises for you, I don’t think I want to do this again.”

Peter hums, getting Wade’s unspoken message. “I agree. I missed you, too.”

They stand there for a while, swaying slightly together with Peter cupping his cheeks and Wade pressing as close to his other as he can without the bags becoming awkward to hold. Peter kisses his nose, then both of his cheekbones, then his cheeks, then his mouth and lingers there. When they pull away, Peter takes a step back.

“So, what’s all this?”

He wrings his hands together as he tries to inspect the bags. He’s nervous or anxious about something, and, honestly, Wade doesn’t blame him for being worried about what’s in the numerous bags. Not after their last anniversary and April Fools, anyway.

“Nothing bad, I promise. Should we move this to the bed?–”

“Couch is fine!” Peter says a tad too enthusiastically and spins to go sit on the couch.

Well, that just means there's something in the bedroom, but he can be patient if it’s for his Petey.

He settles everything onto the floor before sliding the bag off of his back and handing it to Peter. The vigilante stares at it with wide eyes, and takes it extremely carefully, as if the bag will fall apart if he so much as moves it too fast.

“So, normally, people open the biggest thing last so they aren’t disappointed with everything else, but…”

Peter takes the hint and sets it on the ground so he can unzip it and open the flap. He removes the round reflector and suddenly freezes. Wade can’t tell if it’s a good freeze or a bad one, and that in itself is decidedly not good.

“I don’t know if this camera is too advanced or too shitty for you so...” Wade trails off again, not sure what to say.

Peter picks up the camera and inspects it. He tries to turn it on, but it still needs to be charged, so he assumes the screen remains black. He flips it around to look at it and uncap the lense, flips it back to hold it and maybe find the buttons. He looks through the camera and manually adjusts the focus. After that, he adjusts the focus back to where it was, puts the camera safely back into the bag.

A split second later, Wade has a lap and armful of Peter.

“Woah! Okay, I take it you like it?” Wade curls his arms around Peter’s middle while his abdomen, in return, is squeezed.

“Thank you.” Peter whispers into his neck.

Wade squeezes him tighter. “You’re welcome, love.”

Upon hearing the seldom-used name, Peter kisses Wade one more time. It quickly becomes much less than innocent, and as much as Wade is loving this, he still has a few other gifts to give, and at least one thing to get in return.Therefore, he reluctantly pulls away, softly stopping Peter from following his lips.

“You still have a couple gifts from me.”

Peter does not move. “Describe them.”

Damn if Wade doesn’t like it when Peter gets like this. Any other time he would have given in to that sinful look on the other’s face, but not this time. He’ll prove he has at least some self control.

“As much as I would love to– and I really would– I wanna see your reaction to two of the other things I got.”

Peter huffs and sits back with a slight pout. “Fine.”

He quickly eyes the Target bags and gathers his presents. He politely thanks Wade for buying the candy and soda because he didn’t have time to for a reason he didn’t state. He finds the expansion pack and smiles at it, and challenges Wade to a game as soon as they’re done with gifts and snuggles. Then he finds the bear with the wonky face.

“I actually got you something similar to this.”

He seems nervous again, almost more so than before. It has Wade becoming concerned.

“Hey, you know it’s alright if all you got me was a stuffie, right?” He reaches over and grabs Peter’s hand. “It isn’t a competition.”

He smiles fondly in return. “I know.” He gets up and offers Wade a hand. “Time for my presents.”

Wade accepts his hand, but barely uses it to get up. Peter doesn’t let go once he’s standing on his own and the ex-merc finds himself being led to the bedroom.

{ What do you think it’s going to be! I vote for the room being covered in petals and Peter offering himself as a gift! }

[ Peter has stated many times that he has more dignity than that, so no. ]

{ Aww, you’re such a party pooper… I can still dream, you know! }

[ That’s what I worry about the most. ]

{ Hey! }

Peter opens their bedroom door and what Wade finally sees inside almost makes his jaw drop.

There are colored fairy lights strung up simply around the room, just like he’s always wanted, but either forgot the lights or lacked the motivation to try setting it up. The bed is made with a new bed set that is predominantly apple red with accents of maroon, and when Wade strokes his hand across it, it is extremely soft, but doesn’t feel like it’ll overheat them and irritate his scars. On the center of the bed are a little Spiderman and Deadpool tsum tsum-looking plushies laying right next to each other. It’s perfect.

“How did you even have time to do all of this?” Wade asks as he takes in the lights while stroking the comforter.

“I was banking on you being a bit late, actually.” Peter clears his throat– another obvious show of nerves. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Wade doesn’t hesitate, “This is beautiful. Where did you even find all this?”

“Uh, you know, at the store.” Peter sounds more anxious than before, so Wade turns around to ensure that everything is perfect–

This can’t be happening. Wade feels his eyes widen and his jaw properly drop. This can’t be real. There’s no way.

{ This isn’t another hallucination, is it? }

[ I don’t think so. No one is trying to kill us. ]

Peter is on one knee right in front of him. Those stupidly handsome eyes flicker around his face, and his shoulders are tense in a way that broadcasts he’s nervous. They’re standing in their gorgeous room that’s in their shared apartment, they’re both in the comfiest clothes that are still appropriate to go out in public in, and Peter is kneeling in front of him while holding out a ring that’s made of rose gold with a large, deep-red center gem with tiny black ones swirling around it.

This can’t be fucking real. This is way too good to be–

“Judging by your face, this is completely unexpected, but this is something I just realized recently that I’ve been wanting for a while. And I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I think you know what I’m talking about anyway.”

Peter didn’t ask for a response or acknowledgement, but Wade nods anyway. He understands the feeling. Peter’s gaze moves to the walls and the floor, purposefully avoiding Wade now. That isn’t a great sign.

“Like, everyone else I dated I kinda new from the start wouldn’t last? But with you, everything feels natural, and we work really well together, in suits and out of them, and I just– I was thinking about something or other, and I imagined trying to live a life that didn’t have you in it, and I couldn’t do it. As disgustingly cheesy as this is going to sound, I don’t think I can live without you anymore, at least without it being torturous, ‘cause you’re the one who literally knows the most about me and you help me stay away from especially bad habits but don’t treat me like a child when I do something stupid. And, like, the only way you can leave my life permanently is if we broke up– well I guess we could still technically get a divorce, or you could just say ‘no’ right now and break up with me eventually–”

“Yes.” Wade hears himself say, quietly. Peter doesn’t register it, so Wade doesn’t try to use words again. He’s too caught up in his head. He kneels down to Peter’s height and reaches around Peter’s outstretched hands to cup his cheeks. Peter blinks, looks into Wade’s eyes, and lowers the ring closer to their chests, but never stops speaking.

“–but anyway. You’re actually the best thing that’s happened to me since Spiderman and it would really mean the world and more to me if you say–”

Wade cuts him off with a slow, soft kiss. He slowly pulls away when his own smiling makes it too hard to continue, but keeps their faces close.

“Yes.”

Peter blinks hopefully. “Yes?”

Wade yanks him into a tight hug. “Of course! Why would I ever say no?– Actually, don’t answer that. But god, yes! Fuck, I love you so much!” Wade suddenly pulls back. “Lemme see the ring! How did you even get something this nice on such short notice?”

Peter takes his left hand– and oh, if that doesn’t send a pleasant thrill up his spine then he doesn’t know what will– and gently slides the ring on– actually, that right there would– and then doesn’t let go of his hand.

The ring looks more feminine on his finger than it did in the little, velvet box, but if anyone knows Wade, it’s that he doesn’t give a flying fuck. He actually really loves it. It’s rather unique, especially compared to the classic “white diamond(s) on a silver band” engagement rings. And while Wade would have loved a ring like that if Peter got him one, he probably would have only liked it for what it symbolized, rather than actually liking the ring itself like he does this one.

“I did some research during the late night patrols yesterday, and found this one online this morning before you were up. I just went to pick it up after it got sized.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I was worried it wasn’t flashy enough–”

“Nonsense, Peter!” he exaggerates an accent.

“–then I was worried it was too flashy for just in case you wanted to wear it under your Deadpool suit–”

“Of course I will!”

“–and I didn’t want it to irritate your scars, but, again, I didn’t want to be super simple or flat. That just isn’t the Spiderman and Deadpool way, after all.”

“No, it really isn’t.” he confirms fondly.

Wade looks back down at the ring. It hasn’t quite hit him yet that they’re officially engaged.

“So…” Wade starts seductively, “How about we try out these new sheets?��

Peter perks up. “Snuggle day time?”

Wade’s smile turns into a large grin. “You go get the candy and soda, I’ll rearrange the pillows.”

“Maximum effort!” Peter says as he jumps up to sprint out of the room.

Wade gets up too. “Hey! That’s my thing! And this is mediocre effort at best!”

As Peter’s laugh rings pleasantly through the apartment, all Wade can think is that this is hopefully going to be the rest of his life. He’ll get to have moments like these for years and years to come, snuggles and candy with someone he loves and someone who loves him back for years and years to come. And since the boxes aren’t arguing anything, that must mean it’s true on some level, at least.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <~

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: Heyo! I still hate this chapter but I've given up trying to make it better, so here we are. I hope y'all didn't totally hate it though! I had an idea for a beginning and an end, but not the middle, so it's all kinds of bleh XD Anyway, I hope you all have a pleasant day/night, and thank you for checking this fic out! <3

#spideypool #peter parker x wade wilson #spideypool valentines fanfic #spideypool fic #spideypool fanfic #spideypool fanfiction #spideypool scenario #nirlan's spideypool fanfics #nirlan's marvel fanfics

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joetoyeday · 6 years ago

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The Lemon Tree Preview

Characters/Pairings: Artist!Gene!! WinRoe & past mentions of winnix, also lots of winnix friendship.

Summary: It’s 1950 and Richard Winters is feeling directionless after the war. He and Nix are no longer together, having broken up in Germany, but they still maintain a tenuous friendship. After the death of his father Nix decides he needs a fresh start and moves west to California, leaving Dick lonely and somewhat stranded. Having no more ties on the East coast, Dick decides to go visit Eugene Roe, after a chance meeting with Babe, who he runs into at the train station. Babe tells him that after a construction accident left him unable to work in construction anymore, Eugene lives now as an artist in an old church in Georgia. Curious, Winters goes to visit Gene for a week, in a hope to get his head straight, and ends up staying longer.

It had been about a month since Richard Winters last heard from his best friend and ex-partner, Lewis Nixon. It was early July, 1950. But when Dick picked up the phone and heard his old friends, voice, it easily could have been the summer of ‘43 all over again. Nix didn’t even have to say hello, Dick knew him just by the way he cleared his throat.

“Spit it out, Nix.” Dick was half expecting the announcement of his 3rd engagement, but that was not yet to be.

“So, I hear California is nice this time of year.” Nix voice came out sorry over the receiver. Dick heard the crackle of a sigh coming through hundreds of miles of phone lines. A pause, and then: “Dad died. His last fuck you was to leave us bankrupt. So I sold the company. Headin west.”

“Oh.” said Dick.

“I’m leaving at the end of the month. Dick…” Nix shifted his voice like a manual transmission. “I know I have no right to ask but...can you just help me this one last time?”

Richard Winters first learned of Eugene Roe’s new profession when he ran into Babe Heffron at the train station in Philly. The station was chaotic, many students said goodbye to loved ones as they headed off to college, and man and women kissed at the train doors. Children ran amok as their mother struggled to locate their tickets in her purse. That’s when Winters saw Babe. He knew him by his goofy nose and copper hair. He herded the two boys back to their mother, who thanked him. Richard had spotted him first, but something in him hesitated to say something; Besides Floyd Talbert and Nix, he wasn’t sure what they would think of him now, outside the war. He feared there might be some resentment for what he put them through. Nix always rolled his eyes at this, in true Nix fashion. “I’m sure they hate you for getting them home alive.” But, if they felt like he did, Richard would understand: the part of him that survived the war still mourned the the parts of him that didn’t. He could understand if men like Toye, Gaurnere, and malarky resented him. There were fates worse than death.

It was Babe who said something first. He caught WInters staring and gasped aloud. “It was Babe who said something first. He caught Winters staring. "Well, I'll be damned, Major Winters!" Babe gave him a firm handshake and a slap on the back.

"It's just Richard now," he smiled weakly.

"Richard, huh? What are you doin' clear out here? Where ya headed?"

"New Jersey," Richard said.

Heffron smiled knowingly, "Going to rescue Captain Nixon from another bender?" He jested.

"Something like that." Thin parenthesis formed around Richard's mouth as he forced a thin, but polite smile. Somehow, it wasn't that Richard minded saving Nix from himself, he had been doing it since they met in officer candidate school. But he bristled when others implied Nix was a lush. He was, and Richard knew that, but Nix was his lush. If something had happened to nix in the war, if he got himself killed some other awful thing, he knew he wouldn’t have made it through the war. So where his drinking was concerned, he didn't mind putting up with it as long as it meant he was the only one who had to.

"Hey, yeah, speaking of nicknames and all," Babe carried on. "The reason I'm in this joint is I just got back from seeing Eugene Roe," Babe grinned wide. “Doc!”

"That so?" Richard said. "He still callin' you, Edward?"

Babe snorted, "Yeah, he's still callin me Edward. Livin in a church now, just like the goddamned nuns, too!" And then he added, "He did call me 'Babe' a few times though when he wasn't thinking." Babe smiled with pride.

"He's living in a church?" Richard repeated.

"Huh! Yeah! Worked construction til he injured his back. Can't do that no more, so he lives now as a painter." Babe prattled on.

"And the church?" Richard was failing to see how the church fit into all of this.

"Well, he was renovating this old church, ya see? But the other contractors lost interest. Too much damage. So Gene bought it. It's his studio now."

"Our Gene a painter. Huh." The most immediate memory of the former medic that came to mind was Eugene's blank face in Bastogne, his hands all red and Harry's screams of agony. Richard felt ashamed that was the first memory to come to mind, it wasn't fair to associate such an honorable man with his lowest point. It was his subconscious way of reminding himself he would never forgive himself for the way he had to let Gene break down.

A woman's crackly voice called out over the PA, "Last call for Princeton,"

"That's you, huh?" Babe said. He pulled a small notebook out of the inner pocket of his wool coat. He ripped a page from it and held it out. "Gene's address. I don't need it, got it memorized. For what it's worth I think he would like to hear from ya, Major." Babe shoved the paper into Richard's hand.

"Thanks,” he said, absently.

When Richard boarded the train he was relieved to snag a few empty rows of seats to himself. He wasn’t up for idle conversation with strangers which would inevitably turn to the war and his service. It was another reminder he didn’t need. He was in one of his “moods” today, as Nix would affectionately refer to them.

Richard pulled the half-crumpled paper with Gene’s address out of his jacket pocket where he had shoved it when boarding the train earlier. He considered the paper and its potential. Eugene. He recalled memories of Gene’s tender hands pulling a ricochet out of his leg, the caring way he always brought him coffee after most of their battles. He shouldn’t feel special, Gene made coffee for plenty of the men numerous times, but he always seemed to make it a point to with Richard. Gene made everybody feel safe. For all his joking it was the morphine he administered, everybody felt better when Gene was around. His touch, his voice- it soothed like aloe on a sunburn.

Richard recalled one particular time, a time he avoided thinking about but thought about all the same, was in Germany, shortly after Nix had been served divorce papers and demoted. He’d been drunk, naturally, and he’d been angry. In a fit of rage, he had swiped a bottle of whiskey off the wooden table, where it hit the wall and shattered.

Ashamed and enraged, Nix had disappeared into the night. Dick had crouched down to begin cleaning up the mess, and the glass shards cut his fingers. He slipped on the whiskey and lost his balance. He caught himself in a handful of glass. Defeated he collapsed to sit on the floor and he slapped his hand against the wood in frustration, driving the smaller bits of glass deeper into his palms. He sat for a moment, pants wet from the liquor and hands bloody and raw, and he wept.

He had shown up to Eugene’s billet that night, sheepish with a bloody hand and smelling like a whiskey he didn’t drink. It looked much worse than it actually was, he told himself. He was half there because Doc was the only one he trusted to see him in such a state and half there out of loneliness. Gene carefully cleaned and stitched his wounds, only saying the occasional this might sting. Reverently he wrapped white bandages around Richard’s palm. Richard’s eyes stung with tears. Eugene had that same look in his eye when they announced Jackson’s death in a dank basement in Hagenau. He could tell Gene was holding back something he had wanted to say, and after he and Harry had nearly killed Moose in Holland, Richard had a mind to know what he was thinking.

Instead, Gene simply said, “A bit late for coffee, but I’ll warm you up some milk, yeah?”

#ta dahhhh #this will probably be quite angsty #but it will also have a lot of fluff and healing and will end on a happy note #my fic #the lemon tree #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers #eugene roe #richard winters #my post #my writing #winroe

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ceruleanmusings · 5 years ago

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how do you think out two bi teen wolf babes, mel and robyn, would get along? they have some common traits like being (over)protective, loyal, empathetic & stubborn, but mel seems a bit more introverted while robyn falls with the more popular crowd. one thing i know is that robyn kinda feels protective towards erica and would probably be supportive of her & mel

Mel and Robyn would get along real well, I think.

I mean, come on, first and foremost, a robin and a crow being friends? It has to happen. Birds of a feather flock together and all. I like how you put overprotective in parenthesis, if people were to know one thing about Mel is that once she forms some kind of bond with you she’s so protective. To the point of smothering if she’s not kept in check. But yeah, those traits would have Mel feeling like she’d find her soulmate, someone that views the world and treats other people in a similar way that she does.

Actually, Mel’s a pretty big extrovert. She does tame herself a tad when she’s around her friends (she’s not super energetic all the time, she does have her calm moments when she feels at peace an comfortable) but otherwise she’s flitting from person to person, saying hi and asking how they’re doing and about their interests. Her responses are varying though. Mel isn’t popular by any means, not like Lydia and her crowd. She should be considering she’s on the lacrosse team and is very personable but any chance she had at being popular was dead on arrival when her obsession fascination with the supernatural and paranormal came to light. That could be an interesting take to thier dynamic; Robyn being popular while Mel kinda isn’t, Mel could get an inside look at what it takes to be popular (i.e. Robyn trying to get Mel to dress better) and Mel trying to get Robyn to worry a little less about status.

Yay, more friends for Erica! If anyone else sees potential in Erica, they’re good in Mel’s book. They can be a tag-team, providing Erica with protection when needed and support when needed. Erica could never talk down on herself with them around, not on their watch!

I looked at your answers to the ask I sent, a lot of things Robyn likes/dislikes Mel is the same. Like she can’t stand bugs. CANNOT STAND THEM. And snakes. And they’d be the sweetest cuddlers ever! Mel’s so affectionate, it’s hard to find people that would be fine with cuddling. And they both love chocolate! They’d enable each other so badly. (What do you mean you can’t have another chocolate muffin? Humans have two hands for a reason!)

They’d kind of be like a loud, dynamic hurricane sucking other people into their paths and spitting them out having changed for the better. Of course they’d butt heads (Mel, seriously, can’t you wear heels at least once?) (You can’t convince me that broccoli belongs on pizza, Robs, you can’t! What next, pineapples?) but in the end there’d be a lot of laughs, a lot of adventures, and a lot of good memories. (And puns. So. Many. Bi. Puns.)

Thanks for asking!

#avengiers

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atlas-affogato · 7 years ago

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Two Idiots In Love

I would like to thank @speedygal for encouraging me to write this. This fic would not exist were it not for your incredible support. May I now present, my first ever Star Trek fanfiction.

Two Idiots In Love by AtlasAffogato

Spock lowered himself onto the couch with a sigh. His wrinkled hand grazed over the cover of the well-used book he held. It’s brown leather was cracked and faded from hundreds of hands skimming over the surface. Spock sunk back into the couch and made himself comfortable, something that was hard to achieve in his old age. Fingers traced along the edges, before he flipped it open with the care that one might take with a new born baby. The first yellowing page stared up at him. TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE (JIM & SPOCK) His lip twitched up in a ghost of a smile. He remembered when they first got this photo album, all those years ago.

- “Oh come on Spock, we need a place to keep all our photos.” Jim whined, pulling the photo album off the store shelf. He started flipping through the empty pages. “Once again I must tell you that keeping photographs is highly illogical considering that I have impeccable memory.” Jim threw him a look over his shoulder. “Yes, well I don’t so I’m going to continue to take pictures.” _______ Jim flipped open to the first page and pulled out a permanent marker. “What should we call it?” He mused out loud, tapping the marker against his chin. Spock, who sat across the table, suggested, “It does not have to be over complicated Jim. Jim and Spock would suffice.” Jim nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He scribbled down their names. Just then, McCoy appeared behind Jim with a tray of food. “What’re you doing?”He sat down on Jim’s right and took a bite out of his apple. Jim flashed the doctor a smile. “We’re making a photo album.” McCoy peered at the paper and shook his head. “Nah,” he mumbled around his apple. “That’s not right.” He snatched the marker out of Jim’s hand and wrote TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE above their names. He pulled back, but then as an afterthought but parenthesis around their names. McCoy gave them both a quick smirk. “I fixed it.” He took another bite of his apple.-

Spock found himself missing Doctor McCoy more often these days. The house had been quiet ever since Jim passed, and thoughts of their days in Starfleet arouse frequently. He gazed down at the album. It was old fashioned, and there were many better ways to store images, but Jim had insisted on a photo album from an antique shop, claiming that he was “just behind the times like that.” He flipped open to the first picture. It was an image of Jim holding a tribble close to his face, gazing at the creature lovingly. It was from their time on shore leave; a merchant was selling them and Jim could not resist.

- “Jim I do not think-” “Oh relax Spock, it doesn’t bite.” Jim plucked a tribble off the table and lifted it in his hands. The small creature cooed at Jim, snuggling down on to his hand. A wide grin split across Jim’s face. “Spock, take a picture.” Spock considered arguing, but the loving expression Jim wore could not be resisted. He pulled out a camera and snapped a picture of Jim with the tribble. Jim glanced up at Spock. “Come on Spock, hold it.” Spock shook his head. “Jim, I do not think that is wise.” Jim rolled his eyes affectionately, and placed the tribble in his hands. Spock opened his mouth to argue, but he found himself unable to speak when faced with this adorable creature. The tribble snuffled a bit, shuffling on Spock’s hands. A small smile creeped up on Spock’s face. He looked up at Jim. Jim was watching him, affection written across his face plain as day. Jim did not look away or blush when caught watching, only chuckled and pulled Spock into a side hug. He delicately pulled the tribble away from Spock and set it back on the table. “See?” Jim kept one arm locked around Spocks. “What did I tell ya?” He grinned at Spock and pulled him into a chaste kiss. “I told ya you would love tribbles.”-

Spock traced Jim’s face with a loving hand. How he missed Jim. Gaining a grip on his emotions, Spock flipped to the next picture. And barely contained a laugh. The next image had a young Spock sitting in a chair, frowning deeply, as Doctor McCoy shaved his head.

- “How did you even get gum in your hair?” McCoy asked, expecting the back of Spock’s head. “An adolescent spit his gum at me on my walk back to the ship.” Spock stated with thinly veiled malice. Jim was stuck between feeling bad for Spock and laughing his head off, so he stayed in an awkward limbo of biting his lip and smirking. “Well,” McCoy sighed. “I can’t just cut out a chunk of hair, you’ll look ridiculous, although you don’t have much trouble with that.” Spock gave the doctor a look that clearly said that he was not amused. McCoy continued. “I’m going to have to buzz it all off.” Spock stared at McCoy with wide eyes. “Excuse me Doctor McCoy, human pranks elude me.” McCoy shook his head. “This isn’t a prank Spock. I thought we could use a hair product, but with your Vulcan heritage, I’m afraid the acidity of human hair products would burn off all your hair. Better to cut it.” Spock looked away, instead opting to stare at the floor. “Are you going to be okay with that Spock?” Jim asked in a gentle tone. Spock looked up, and nodded. “Yes. We have no other option.” Jim nodded and grabbed a chair. “Here. Sit here.” Spock obeyed and sat in silence as McCoy shaved his entire head.-

Spock winced. He had hated his hair buzzed, and it was obvious to everyone how much he despised having a buzzed head. He remembered walking onto the bridge for the first time and hearing Sulu choke on his drink. It was awful for months until it finally grew back to the standard length. Spock was happy to turn to the next page. The next page held pictures of the entire bridge team, Doctor McCoy, and Mr. Scott eating ice cream that Uhura had made. They were all laughing and smiling, chocolate covering faces.

- “When did you learn how to make ice cream?” Jim stared, dumbfounded, as Uhura scooped him homemade chocolate ice cream. She rolled her eyes. “It’s not that hard. And I used a machine anyways, which comes with instructions and recipes. All I did was put in ingredients.” “Still,” Sulu murmured, chomping down on ice cream. “It’s really impressive.” Jim took his bowl and sat down at the table in Mess that he always occupied. McCoy sat next to him, pouring chocolate syrup into his ice cream. Chekov sat on McCoy’s other side, who was shoving his face full of vanilla ice cream. Spock sat across from Jim and watched as he shoved spoonful after spoonful down his throat. Spock arched an eyebrow. Uhura sat next to Spock, across from McCoy and peered at him. “Do you not want any Spock?” Spock turned to face her. “I’ve never consumed ice cream, and do not wish to start now.” The entire table went silent. Everyone turned to stare at Spock. “You’ve NEVER had ice cream?!” Scotty exclaimed. Spock blinked. “Ice cream is a human invention and having been raised on Vulcan I can not say that I have ever eaten ice cream.” Uhura shook her head and stood up. “Nope. I’m not letting you get away with this. You are eating ice cream.” She walked over to the counter and filled another bowl with chocolate ice cream. She snagged a spoon from a drawer and set both in front of Spock. Spock gazed up at her, but she just crossed her arms and stared back at him. Spock looked down the table to see everyone watching him expectantly. “I do not wish-” he started, only to be cut off. “Eat it!” “Don’t give us any of that, Spock!” “It’s really good, just try it.” Spock stared down at the bowl, and picked up his spoon. He didn’t move. “Eat, eat, eat, eat.” Jim started up a chant, soon followed by McCoy, Scotty, and everyone else.Uhura started banging on the table. “EAT EAT EAT EAT EAT.” Spock held up a hand, signaling for them to stop. He lifted his spoon and scooped some ice cream. He brought the spoon to his lips and sniffed it. Having no scent, Spock was wary, but he ate it anyways. The entire table cheered as you downed his first spoonful. “Well?” Jim asked expectantly. Spock swallowed before responding. “It is much colder than I was expecting.” “Do you like it is the question.” McCoy stated. Spock nodded. “Yes, it is quite tasty.” He took another bite. Satisfied with his answer, everyone returned to their ice cream with warm smiles. They continued on for a few minutes until Spock stifled a whimper, moving the ice cream around in his mouth before swallowing. He closed his eyes and shook his head, hoping to disperse the awful feeling in his head. “You okay Spock?” Jim inquired. Spock shook his head, eyes still squeezed shut. “No. It seems that I have a headache, but this is unlike any headache I have had in the past.” Jim laughed. Spock frowned and opened his eyes. “I do not believe that this is any laughing matter, Jim.” Jim laughed again and McCoy chuckled. “The Vulcan’s got a brainfreeze.” McCoy laughed. This concerned Spock. “Brainfreeze?” That did no sound pleasurable in the slightest. “Yeah.” McCoy waved his hands around as he spoke. “It’s when you eat ice cream too fast-” “How do I get rid of it?” Spock interrupted, holding his head in his hands. McCoy chuckled. “Put your thumb on the roof of your mouth.” Spock threw him a look that said he didn’t believe him. “It works, believe me.” Not knowing what else to do, Spock stuck his thumb on the roof of his mouth. Which, surprisingly, did work. Once the headache had withdrawn, Spock removed his thumb from his mouth. “Thank you Doctor McCoy.” McCoy nodded back at him, and they continued to finish their ice cream.-

Spock smiled, fully this time. That was a great day. Throughout their marriage Jim had always insisted that they kept their freezer stocked with gallons of ice cream. Spock gazed down at his friends once more and shut the book. He had not been expecting the flood of emotions upon opening the book. Spock leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. After everyone has gone, he remained. Without friends, without a husband. Without youth. Spock shifted into a more comfortable position and took a deep, rattling breath. No more time spent alone. Spock relaxed and let nature return him to the ones he loves.

#star trek #spock #aged spock #jim kirk #spirk #space husbands #my writing #fanfiction

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