#YES I ONLY DRAW TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF OF THEM OK

[leucoratia]

Soft touches

[kurosstuff]

Fluffy Donna! Was requested hehe- also hope it was good? I literally hate this. Haha. Wtf. Also cut it short so I could get it out for you guy- got a bit stressed over this work? So.. take my attempt at soft fluff

Warning(s): angie swears again*once* cause she can and I say so. SLIGHT sexual innuendo(but its not? Someone I had read it over and said it was so-)its Angie. Other then that tooth rotting fluff

Donna Beneviento x reader: Tea time

Waking up beside the doll maker was a blessing as it was a curse. The unveiled lover curled into your side, breath slower than usual indicating she's still asleep, the arm around her moved slightly causing the women to mumble into you, clutching your shirt. In a silent yet loud way of saying "don't leave", smiling sleepily you used your other hand to brush her bangs away-Donna in turn leaned into your hand smiling, melting into your touch even while she slept.

A harsh wack from the head yanked you from the pleasant sight-looking up. Rolling your eyes jokingly at the sight. The cursed side was the rabid doll that yet again kicked your head above you, Angie laid sprawled out like a cat above you both. Mostly cured around Donna's pillow she kicked her legs yet again in her sleep. A scratchy sleep giggle escaped the doll

"Seems shes having a good dream" drawing your attention to the women in your arms, smiling up at you. Cuddling deeper into the crook of your neck. "I wish we could stay like this for the rest of the day" chuckling as you brought a hand to her messy hair- freed from her hair tie, let loose into wild knots and tangles from the tossing and turning of her sleeping- a content sigh escaped her from the head scratches you gave

"Yes. I wish that as well" you started with a hum as you pretending to think "but." Your hand froze on her head thinking aloud, her eye glanced up curiously "what would Lady Dimitrescu say? After all isn't today the date of the tea party?" At that Donna faster then usual shot up from the bed, almost falling out from the realization

-

Two minutes later you both were dressed-after the relentless teasing on your end, you decided to play it safe for now and leave your beloved alone for the moment. "You know love, this is my favorite time of the day, waking up in your.. arms" she spoke blushing from the attempted compliment. Nevermind your earlier self agreement teasing seemed.. to work in your favor sometimes

"Oh? I have to agree" you spoke placing the comforter 'perfectly' on the bed, turning to face her "mine is when the sun bleeds into the room, engulfing you in its light" slowly walking towards her you wrapped your arms around her waist slowly swaying "the light of my day"

"That I have to disagree with" Donna spoke leaning back in your arms smiling "you are the light of my day." Bringing a thing ling finger down the side of your haw tilting it to her face smiling. Grasping your jaw in her firm steady hand the cool radiating off it "my love, you bring so much happiness in my life-"

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT- TELL ME TO GET OUT BEFORE YOU DO ALL THIS" a loud shirlly voice gagged at the sight of you guys flirting "MY GOD WHAT A NIGHTMARE" running out of the room, you both laughed at her reaction separating from one another

-

After getting ready for the day, Donna reached for your hand giving it a gentle squeeze before you both walked out hand in hand. "So what do you think she has planned?"

"Not sure.. she may try to get the rest of the cake from last night" Donna spoke-glancing over towards you with a shrug, drawing a gentle laugh from you "or she could try getting you to eat plywood again" a almost smug smile appeared on Donna's face at the comment

"Oh come on love, that was one time" you grimaced at the memory, one of the first nights living in the manor and somehow Angie convinced you that this 'cookie' she made was a gift from the lady of the house. What a fool you were-you should have guessed but- with it being so late you chalked it up for a stupid sleepy moment.

You can still imagine her cackles after you ate it- the only good thing out of it was that being the first time hearing Donna's voice. Even though it was just her saying "oh my" that voice, the calm deep voice made you happy for make fool of yourself.

Even eating plywood

You still aren't sure how you didn't break any teeth from it either-

"-/N? Hey love are you ok?" Snapping back into the present you looked beside you, Donna looked concerned like something was wrong, worry written in her face but most of all-the nervousness in her eye showed how concerned she really was, other then the indicator of her twitching hand-a way for her to show her emotions through her hands, a habit she picked up before she felt comfortable to not wear her veil "what's on your mind?"

"You" the automatic response made you both freeze, before giving your hand a squeeze she looked away with a slight blush-caught off guard with such a bold move.

-

Entering the kitchen, Angie was running about yelling- pans and water flinging everywhere with a bang. "Angie calm down we're here" you tried blaming her but, that seemed to just wild her up even more proceeding with her jumping onto the kitchen counter, knowing what she was going to do you ran over to her only to catch her in time

"Ok no sweets for you today missy" you gently scolded the Rowdy doll who grumbled in your arms, placing her down Angie ran to the table sitting holding the fork and knife(plastic, you learned your last mistake, no more starwars for her that's for sure) smiling at the childlike doll you jokingly rolled your eyes.

Placing the plate of glazed donuts onto the table Angie quickly snatched two cutting into it viciously then proceeded to mimick eatting it, siting down beside Donna who grabbed your hand gently rubbing the back of it with her thumb, "eat slower dear. We have a tea party scheduled today remember?" Donna spoke quietly in an attempt to remind the doll-who froze

"...did you guys think it was today?" Angie stated uncharacteristically calm before laughing loudly "TODAY? HAHA THE TALL GIRLY WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU BOTH IF THAT WAS THE CAS-" She laughed before choking the fork in her mouth going too deep, coughing it up it flew hitting the ground with a thump. "Ow."

"Oh Angie" you said kneeling down to the child doll, bringing the napkin to her face to dab it gently, from the look she gave-if she could she would have rolled her eyes at you. "Please eat slower or you'll choke"

"Choke?" Angie said before giggling, the same one everyone knew. Not anything good "kinda like how Donna choked on-"

"ANGIE" Donna yelled strained, face flushed. A loud cackling was heard before the quiet pitter patter of footsteps rushed off "I swear she will be the death of me" shaking her head she looked away to watch her as she ran

"She is a riot that's for sure" standing up you picked the dishes stacking them on one another, going over to the sink you gently placed them in as you started to wash them.

Coming up from behind you Donna wrapped her arms around your waist, "Let me help love" she whispered in your ear making you shiver in response. Chuckling softly she pulled away grabbing a plate, washing it beside you. Glancing to the women beside you, a smile came across your face.

The quiet nature combined with the.. rowdy if you'd call it nature of Angie it made life interesting to say the least. Glancing to your lover to the doll who helped you both seal the deal. It made it worth it, You'd never give this life up for anything.

[internalsealpanic]

Respectful Cannibalism

Summary:  Watching mystery movie with a bunch of detective was a bad idea

A/n: While this is part 3 to my Space Case series, you’re not required to read Art Gallery Smile or Cosmonauts to understand the context to this. The only note I do have is that Dick and Steph are friends with Reader much to Tim’s everlasting horror.  Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @glorified-red for proof reading this mess.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and a confusing amount of batkids in one scene.

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

Tim coughs, loud and ragged into the speaker. You find yourself wincing at the phone tucked against your ear. Tim sounds like he’s dying or, at the very least, he’s on his way there. 

“I’m so-”

“Fucking tired of saying sorry that you decided to go skinny dipping in Gotham Harbor? Yeah. Great, I’m sick of hearing it too. Glad, we’re on the same page, Space Cadet.” You exasperate, pulling on your jeans violently enough for Tim to hear the angry shuffling of fabric. 

“Skinny dipping?” Tim huffs, a fond smile playing on his lips as he drinks in the timber of your voice. Even when you were absolutely exasperated, your voice was still soothing or maybe he just misses your company. God, he’s such a sap. 

You shake your head in disbelief. That was his take away? “Yes, Timmy, Buck-ass skinny dipping,” you laugh, coming out derisive and sharp. Tim groans this time filled with guilt. The first few sounds of another ‘I’m sorry’ form in the back of his throat as he runs his hand through his bed head. For once, you’re thankful that you’re nowhere near Tim because you are one apology away from decking him and you’re pretty sure that that’s a terrible thing to do to a sick person, especially one with no brain cells to spare. 

“I- You were really looking forward to this (Y/n), don’t try to deny it.” You weren’t going to. He was right. You were looking forward to this date. You were impossibly, unreasonably giddy over the prospect of going to the planetarium with Tim this afternoon. WITH Tim. Sure, you’re pretty down about it but you were the tiniest bit more  concerned about the fact that your boyfriend had water in his lungs and almost died of hypothermia for a hot second. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping that worry and murder radiate off of you in equal measure.  “I was also looking forward to my letter from Hogwarts,” you sneer, pausing dramatically to look at your watch, “and it’s been roughly a decade.”  You hear Tim swallow and the hairs on your neck bristle in petty satisfaction. 

Tim chortles, a lively sound that startles you, then coughs but the sound comes out somehow sounding doubtful and teasing. Embarrassment flares up in you. “You were too!” you protest, hackles drawn to full height. A short breathy laugh leaves Tim and you feel the flush on your face ease into something softer and more rounded. All the sharpness in your veins dissipates as the flash of fondness for that stupid laugh takes over. You can imagine him warm under the covers smiling at the phone at your blunder. “Please, (y/n), my hopes were dashed when I was 4  and still not in the Jedi order.”

“Bullshit, you were never a child,”  you snort, sharpening the grin on your face into something vicious. “I refuse to believe you were ever a child! You probably sprang out of a textbook fully formed- Wait, I’m getting off-topic. ” Tim hums innocently and you narrow your eyes at the phone, hoping he can feel the ‘I am revoking your breathing privileges’ look.  “You always are.” Tim says before falling into a coughing fit. 

“Sorry, Cosmo, I just keep getting lost in your eyes,”  you whisper, pitching your voice rich and caramel smooth. There’s a sound on the other line. Tim is babbling you realize. You hear a shuffle of fabric and a body rising. Tim sucks in a breath, red-faced and caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He can practically see the cocky grin playing on your face, the light of the sun reflecting as golden flecks in your eyes.  “You can’t even see them!” Tim stammers, glowering at you through the phone. You cackle at him as if sensing the venomous look he’s giving you. “You can barely open them!” Tim rolls his, very much, open eyes, falling back into an unnecessarily large pile of pillows that Alfred insisted was necessary for bed rest with a loud ‘fwoof’. “Yes, I can,” Tim mumbles, sounding young for once. You do your level best to smother a grin on your face. “I’m just really drowsy from the chamomile tea Alfie gave me.” You stop dead in your tracks, one hand half in your coat the other on the doorknob. You blink. “You’re at the Manor?”

Tim pauses, making a frustrated noise. He shouldn’t have said that.  “Dick and B… insisted.” This draws another one of your sharp laughs. He says insisted as if it was ever negotiable. “Did they ‘insist’ before or after they blow-dried and hung you out to dry?” Tim squawks and you hear shuffling again. Tim tries to remember why he doesn’t hate you. “Tell me again how you found out about me getting sick? Steph? Cass?”

“Hmmmmmm, Dick.”

“THAT TRAITOR”

“Funny way to pronounce older brother,” you hum smug. You can feel Tim glaring daggers at you. “You-”

“There’s a home theater, yeah?” 

Tim pauses, this time longer. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Answer the question, Space Case.”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Great! It’s a date then,” you say, mentally preparing a route to the Manor from the vague directions Steph told you once. You could just use the maps app- 

“NO!” You freeze. Tim flinches at the volume of his own voice. He  whispers an indiscernible  ‘I’m sorry’. You turn it over in your mind before speaking. “No?” You ask, trying your best to sound hurt instead of amused. Maybe you should have pitched your voice higher, more shaky. “Look, Tim, I-” Tim heaves a loud sigh. “-(Y/n), you’re fine-” Well, you aren’t, you think. You bite your tongue, physically to make sure you don’t say anything unnecessary. “-It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s- It’s just my siblings...” Tim knows that his siblings have been talking about you.  

“Timmy, I can take whatever shovel talk they can give me,” you say with the confidence of someone who has never been dangled over the edge of a roof top. Ok, to be fair, YOU had nothing to worry about. Tim, on the other hand, was going to get roasted alive. Maybe he can persuade you into not- Tim hears the tell tale sputtering of your bike’s engine and he feels his blood pressure spike. The engine genuinely sounds like a death rattle. 

“You’ll get sick.”

You swear and he hears another sputter of the engine. “You’ll get sick,” he croaks again, louder this time hopefully over the dying engine. Maybe if your engine dies right now, he’ll be spared from a slow agonizing death via siblings. “Relax Cosmo, I have the strongest ward against whatever you got,” you say, giving the engine a light kick. Tim hears a few metallic clunks then the engine stutters to life. Tim looks up past the ceiling trying to glare at whatever cosmic being resurrected your engine. 

“Which is...”

“Being broke. It does wonders for your health.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim says, shifting burying his head against the too soft pillows. The soft fabric makes his eyes feel heavy. He yawns. He hears the sputter or your laugh. It’s hard to tell from the sudden drowsiness making his head swim. 

“I promise I’ll explain to your typical rich kid ass when I get there, Tim.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tim slurs, face pressed into a pillow. 

You laugh, he’s sure this time. 

“I’m-” Tim’s mind unfocuses and the words you say garble together ”-Tim. ”

Tim blinks, mouth moving to ask you to repeat that but the last thing he hears is a soft click. 

On the bright side, it would just be him and Alfred at the manor.

_________________________________________________________

Batmanisfake: I heard (y/n)'s coming over😶

Nightwingingit:👀 How do you even know that?

Batmanisfake: What are you? A cop?

Nightwingingit: say that again but slowly 🙄

Batmanisfake: ...

Damian: He bugged Drake's phone. For blackmail purposes, of course. 

Nightwingingit: JASON

The Cool One: Shush Dick! He's onto something

Batmanisfake: Thank you 

The Adult: I for once had nothing to do with it😌

Theactualbatman: I'm assuming we're all coming home tonight?

The Cool One: I'll bring popcorn

Damian: Nonsense Pennyworth will likely have some prepared

The Cool One:😭 We really do not deserve that man

Nightwingingit: Definitely

thesaneone: We're recording Tim's face when he sees us, right? 

Batmanisfake: From all angles

The Adult: You're all horrible

Batmanisfake: Please like you're not hacking into the cameras as we speak, Babs

The Adult: You have no proof👀

_________________________________________________________

Tim’s head felt thick and gooey like one of Alfred’s custards. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s in a fish tank. There’s a sickly Chlorine smell clogging his nostrils; it smells powdery and sterile and reminds him vaguely of aspirin. Tim blinks. His eyes hurt; they feel puffy and sore and hot. His vision is further obscured by a thick layer of fleece blankets Alfred had piled high over him. He shuts his eyes still feeling too overwhelmed by the low light coming from the window.

Tim thinks he hears his window open with a soft click. Tim quiets his breathing. His hearing is too muddled to process anything beyond it.  There’s a soft thud of heavy boots in the room; it’s imperceptible and dreamlike the way it reaches his ears that it has him shifting under the covers trying his best to discern the sound. A dozen lighter footsteps follow it and he can sense 6 shapeless bodies hovering over him.

“Should we wake him up?” asks a voice that vaguely sounds like Cass. 

There’s a shuffling sound. Leather, he thinks. “Wait, lemme take a picture.”

“Red, why? It’s not like you can blackmail him with pictures of him sleeping.”

“Because, flashlight, I need proof that Timbo sleeps. ”

“Because?”

“Ok, how many times have you seen him asleep?” 

“Uh...”

“Exactly!”

Tim hears a laugh that distinctly sounds like Dick. “Does it count if Alfie drugged him?”

“Maybe?” Steph says, shrugging. 

“It doesn’t, Brown.”

“Damn it.”

“Does that mean B doesn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

Maybe if Tim keeps sleeping, they’ll go away on their own. Tim wraps the sheets tightly around himself, hoping the large stack  of fleece would be enough to muffle his siblings. 

“I’m pretty sure I have dibs on waking him for opening the window for you shits.”

“Red, anyone could have opened that,” Duke laughs, stepping slightly behind Cass, who at the moment was paying more attention to the moving pile of fabric. Maybe if Tim stays really still she’ll turn her attention to something else. 

“Cass and Dickface would have just broken it.‘

“I would not!”

“Sorry, Cass, you would.”

“Steph, whose side are you on?”

“Why is no one defending me?” Dick sighs. 

“No one cares, Dickface. And Blondie’s clearly playing for the right team-” Steph cackles. “-none of you have any finesse.”

“Not all of us can be drama queens, Todd.”

“You’re like the third to the last person I wanna hear this from.”

“Third? You’re ranking us now? Who gave you the right?”

“Alfred,” Jason deadpans, “And yeah. Bruce and Dick are first and second.”

“Hey!”

“Can it Mr. Pretty Man Down.”

“That was one-”

“What rank am I?”

“uh … fifth.”

“Fifth?!”

“Sorry, Blondie, Cass has you beat with that ballet kick thingy.”

“Ok, yeah I can accept that. What about Babs?”

“What about Babs? The woman can kick my ass six ways to Sunday. ”

Tim’s head throbs all over. There are soft pin pricks pressing on the sole of his left foot; his leg jerks involuntarily. He wants to scream. Tim swears under his breath. A gloved hand pries the covers away from Tim’s face. Tim squints his eyes open only to be greeted by Dick’s kind, but still very punchable, face. Tim takes a long rasp, pinching his features in a mix of annoyance and despair. “Why are you-” Cough! “-here?”

There’s a slight quirk to Dick’s smile.“They wanted to meet (y/n),” Dick explains in a sweeping theatrical motion of his hand across the room directing Tim’s attention to the expressions on his sibling’s expressions which were all a variation of devious scheming. 

“How did-” cough. “- you even know-” cough. “-(y/n) was coming?” Tim asks, shooting up from his pile of pillows causing a couple of blankets to topple to the floor to the ground. Tim’s lightheaded.  He suddenly feels a shift in his balance, a feeling of vertigo.   He nearly topples to the ground, his blood not quite catching up to his movements, when feels hands wrap around his shoulders. “Woah there Baby Bird, slowdown.”

“Answer-” Cough!

“It was Todd.”

“You mutant sperm!”

“Jay, aren’t we all mutant sperm?” Steph laughs, slinging one arm over an irate Damian’s shoulders and another over a fuming Jason’s shoulders. Tim groans, sounding pained. “How much do I need to pay each of you to get all of you to go away?”

“A lifetime of IOUs,” Dick says, casually. 

“NO!”

“All of your share in W.E.,” Duke says, laughing. Steph elbows him lightly, also laughing. “You’re shooting prelow there, Slick,” Steph teases. Duke shrugs still grinning. “Gotta  keep it realistic, yanno?”  Steph and Duke keep bickering. 

“Drake, kindly, pay with your life.”

Tim scrunches his nose. “I’m already on my deathbed, you know, dying. What else do you want from me?”

“A more agonizing death.”

Jason grins, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Timbo, we can help with your little impromptu date.” Tim groans, placing his face in his hands. “Please just help me dig my own grave.”

“What would be the fun in that, Timbo?”

“For you or for me?”

“Come on, Tim, it’ll be fine,” Cass says,  clearly not believing the words herself. All seven of them dissolve into another round bickering. Damian, Jason, and Steph hellbent on giving Tim an aneurysm.  Duke and Cass playing at being neutral; Duke leaning on Tim’s side but laughing way too hard at Steph’s well placed jabs; Cass is only mildly siding with Tim to spite Jason. Why this time? Tim has no clue. 

The string of banter is broken up by the echoing the doorbell. Tim’s heart seizes as they all fall silent, enraptured by the odd sound of a doorbell filling the hallowed halls of Wayne Manor. The chiming of bells ends with the creaking of the large oak doors in the front of the manor. 

Before Tim’s sluggish brain could even formulate a thought, all of his siblings are all bounding towards the door, bouncing off the walls and flipping over obstacles. Tim scrambles, lagging, after the hoard of vigilantes barrelling towards you. Tim tries to shout after his siblings but his voice is drowned out by raucous laughter and bickering. 

You stand at the door, head haloed by the pale afternoon light as the sky catches fire, flecks of snow sparkling in your hair. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sheepishly thank Alfred as he takes your coat.  

Tim struggles to breathe an he genuinely doesn’t know if it’s because of his lungs, you, or the fact that of all his siblings, Babs was the one who got there first and Tim genuinely doesn’t know if Babs is there to hold off the gaggle of vigilantes or to scare you off. From the jovial grin wrinkling your features, Tim’s pretty sure Babs just gave you some blackmail material instead of putting you through the ringer- an equally scary outcome. For your part, you don’t look even slightly phased by the fact that Babs is in a wheelchair or even by the way she’s clearly sizing you up. All of this rolls off of you with an easy motion of your shoulders as you answer her questions in the most frustratingly oblique way based off of Babs’s expression. Tim can’t help the curve on his lip as you blatantly dodge another of Babs’s questions with a smile. You spot him, winking, and the tips of Tim’s ears flush. 

Your cocky demeanor fades when a gaggle of batbrats crowd you; nervousness creeps into your form, ironing out your posture into something unnatural and defensive. “Is this a bad time?” You ask through a tight lipped smile. Babs glares at them but doesn’t make any effort to hide the satisfaction at your shaken demeanor. “Don’t mind them, Sweetie,” Babs says, patting your back and guiding you away from the gaggle. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to coax your spine back into a more natural curve. 

“(Y/n)!” Tim manages between gasps for air. Making a person with non functioning lungs run has to be some sort of human rights violation. His voice is  louder than he anticipated. He realizes, but the apprehension in his body flits away when you beam at him-a  wide cheeky smile that has his body vibrating with delight. He made you smile like that, Tim thinks, heart swelling almost enough to soften the impact of the next few words. “Hey, Duckie!” you chirp tilting your face in a cute lopsided smile. 

“Duckie?” Jason sniggers. 

Duke’s face passess from confusion, realization, then amusement in a matter of three seconds.“Duckie? As in ‘quack quack’?” Duke asks, pretending to still be dumbstruck. 

“Yes, Duckie, Tommy Terrific,” you say, the lopsided smile curving into a playful grin. The dumb nicknames earn you a loud, surprisingly nonthreatening, approving laugh from Jason who then says “We’ll keep those nicknames in mind” which just drags pained looks from both Tim and Duke. Dick and Damian on the other hand look absolutely delighted. 

“(Y/n), tell them about the other nicknames,” Steph says, grinning savagely. Your eyes widen and you wrinkle your nose, mouth twitching from side to side, trying to pretend away the heat rising from your cheeks. “Not on your life, Stephie.”

“Aaaaaw! Not even for lil ol’ me?” Dick pouts, throwing his arms around you. The familiarity of the action has Tim bristling. “Pleeeeeaaase,” Dick whines; a smile hidden in your hair, “not even for Alfred’s cookies?” You make a noise caught between a laugh and a groan. “Hmmmm… maybe? Throw in some candy.”

“Deal.”

Tim blinks. “You’d betray me for sugar?” 

“Cus I ain’t getting any while you’re sick,” you cackle, grinning along with Dick who looks way too pleased with the outcome of the conversation.  Tim desperately wants to melt into the floor. Looking at all his siblings who are eagerly awaiting for the litany of nicknames, Tim cuts in. “Let’s just go watch that film.”

“What are we watching?” Cass asks, leaning to look over your shoulder, clearly shoving Dick out of the way. Dick does his best to not budge. 

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

“We are under a communist regime, Timbo. We’re all watching it together,” Jason says, slinging Tim over his shoulder. 

“Have a heart, Drake. We only want to spend family time together,” Damian says, somehow still looking imperious even from where Tim is dangling. A dull ache starts spreading across Tim’s like his skull is being squeezed. 

“Hope you guys like Clue,” you say, fishing it out of your cornucopia of unhealthy junk food. “I figured you detectives would like a good mystery.” Dick snorts taking the disc from you and reading over the contents efficiently. “Bet you I can get the ending even before any of you.”

“No, you won’t,” Jason barks, setting off a long winded argument about who the best detective is. 

“Didn’t you say you would eat me if I spoiled another mystery movie for you? Are you planning to eat my entire family?” Tim croaks quietly. You scrunch your nose, twitching your mouth four times to the left and four and a half times to the right.  “Technically, what I said was ‘I’ll respectfully go back to juvie for cannibalism if you spoil another movie that night’,” you hiss low, trying not to draw attention to your conversation. Unfortunately for you, his siblings have good hearing.  

“And this is different how?” Tim asks, this time not bothering to control his volume. 

“You’ll never figure out the ending,” You say smiling innocently. Tim rolls his eyes and huffs a ‘we’ll see’. It doesn’t wipe the smile off of your face. 

As it turns out, the Wayne Manor theater is less of a theater and more of a bean bag storage closet with a large screen. Jason tosses Tim unceremoniously into one of the random bean bags in front of the couch before gracefully pirouetting into the couch. You chuckle and continue your search for something to put your Bluray in, just now realizing that you should have probably just asked for their Netflix password or something. Alfred appears out of nowhere handing Jason and Cass each a bowl of buttery popcorn and scolding Jason about manhandling his brother in front of  a guest. Jason looks unrepentant. No surprises there. With a swat on  the back of Jason’s head, Alfred turns to you, gloved hands extended out to you.  “I can take that."

“Oh… Uh thanks- Thank you,” you stammer. To your left, Tim snickers and your hand slip, somehow the blanket Babs handed you finds its way to Tim’s face. “Shut up, Ducktective. He’s practically your grandpa and I kinda wanna make a good impression,” you hiss, cheeks warming. Tim coughs, a little dumbfounded. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that you were nervous about this. 

Tim checks if his brain is on straight before speaking. “Relax, you haven’t physically assaulted me or any of my family yet so you’re immediately at the top of Alfie’s list.” You open your mouth to speak then curl it into a frown, looking appalled and concerned. Apparently, his brain wasn't on as straight as Tim thought. "Am I going to have to fight your exes? At some point?" 

"No!" 

"Yes!" Steph says, handing you a red bean bag. Tim scowls at Steph as he watches the color drain from your face. She just shrugs and goes off to annoy Dick. 

“Mr. Boddy?” Damian asks incredulously, reading the box summary again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you laugh, setting your bean bag next to the one Jason dropped Tim in. Damian rolls his eyes. “This is a stupid movie. Do people really consume this drivel?”

You scrunch your nose but don’t put too much heart into glaring. Thankfully, color is now returning to your face. “The movie hasn’t even started yet!”

“Relax (y/n), the tiny mutant sperm is just playing elitist,” Steph says, plopping next to Jason and eyeing his bowlful of buttery popcorn. 

“As long as it isn’t as bad as the Happening-”

“Dude, you live in a city with Poison Ivy. That thing is pretty much a documentary,” Duke says hesitantly taking the spot between Steph and Cass. 

"Please, for the love of Alfie, please, talk about something else," Dick whines, plopping a bean bag next to Tim. Jason’s face twists in confusions before his eyes light up and untwists into an expression with amusement. "Is it because of the-" Dick hits him square in the face with a pillow, all the while screeching "Think of the children!"

"Where, Dickface?" Jason ask, prompting Dick to point(jazz hands)  at Damian who rolls his eyes. Jason does the same, looking younger than the toughened exterior suggested. "That's a gremlin, Dickface. Not a child." 

"He is-"

"SHUSH! The movie is starting!" 

You giggle, curling into Tim's side and placing your head in the crook of his neck where you usually like to put it. Tim's insides shiver from the contact and his hands automatically coil around you, pressing his nose into your hair. 

"Jeez, her melons are big," Babs says flatly taking another handful of Dick's popcorn from Damian. Cass snorts and Tim feels embarrassment creep into his skin. He flicks his eyes to you, only to find you smiling into his side. 

"They're almost as big as Dick's," you chuckle. 

"Nah, Jason is bigger," Cass pipes. 

You eye Jason openly which makes the large man cross his arms over his chest.  "Huh, you're right," you note with more confusion than anything. 

"Bruce has moobs too!" Jason protests, red-faced. 

"Son, why?"

The chatter falls silent when the figure at the edge of the room settles itself into the large leather recliner in one corner of the room. You squint your eyes to distinguish its features from the rest of the shadows in the room; only to be greeted by the solemn features of Bruce Wayne. Your breath catches and you feel your skin jump twenty feet in the air. Everyone else in the room seems to have about the same reaction even as he pulls a lever to raise the foot rest.  You all follow his movements with interest. 

“Is Bruce trying to relax?” Duke whispers to Cass who shrugs in response. Steph rolls her eyes, reaching over Duke to try and snatch some popcorn from Jason who just raises his bowl higher. “Shhhhh, Duke, let the B man try to play human,” she says, snatching at the popcorn til the bowl just falls on Jason’s head. 

“He’s trying I guess.” This draws a startled chuckle out of you that you try to press in Tim’s neck. The vibrations against his skin has him shivering. 

“B, are you ok?” Dick asks. This makes Bruce’s features move in a slightly concerned fashion which in Bruce speak is very concerned. “Yes, why?”

“Ooooh, no reason, old man.” He turns to Babs. “Yeah that’s not Bruce. Five bucks says it’s a robot.” Babs snickers, grabbing a ten from her purse. “Ten says it’s an alien.” You twist to look at them, taking out a twenty. “Twenty says it’s just Mr.Wayne.” Jason sneers at you, taking your money. “You clearly don’t know the old man.”

“Can we please just watch this film in peace?” Bruce groans, running a hand over his face, finally looking more like the long suffering single dad of eight kids that he should be.  Babs looks over her shoulder, slinging Bruce an absolutely disbelieving look. “Do you even know your children?”

“Yes, father, have you even watched us bond?” Damian asks, using his free hand to do air quotes for the word ‘bond’ while using the other to try and swipe some popcorn from Cass. It doesn’t work. 

“That definitely isn’t Bruce,” Dick hisses, trying to shield his own bowl of popcorn  from an irate Damian. 

“SHHHHHH! I can’t hear the movie!”

“It’s definitely the butler,” Dick declares.  Damian scowls, throwing a pillow at him which Dick catches with ease. “Grayson, the movie has barely started.”

“It’s definitely the butler. It’s gotta be. It’s always the butler.”

“That’s very offensive to Alfred, Dick,” Cass says, grinning. Alfred sniffs poshly in his own recliner. Dick recoils but Jason piles on. “Very classist of you, Dickiebird.”

Duke snorts. “Nah, I think he’s just saying it because Tim Curry was Pennywise the Clown.” 

“Why would you trust a clown?” 

“Oh my god, why are you guys comparing Alfred to a clown?”

“We are not!”

“This conversation is a trainwreck,” Tim groans into your hair. “Dunno, Tim, it sounds like a success,” you laugh, pressing closer. His eyes flick between you and his siblings. “You planned this.” You look up at him, failing to flatten a smile. “Nope.”

“I say it’s Ms. Scarlett,” Bruce says, rubbing his chin contemplatively. 

“You’re just saying that cus she reminds you of Selina,” Tim huff, grinning and you’re half tempted to pinch his cheeks. Bruce cuts him a scathing look that has you shrinking; the grin on Tim’s face just broadens which just makes the playful scowl on Bruce’s face deepen. “Need I remind you who pays for the internet?”

“Alfred?” Tim asks, innocently. 

“Careful Tim, B man might actually do it. Hell, he’ll probably do it if he finds out what you did last Thursday.”

“Do you mean the explosion on Fifth?” you ask, turning to Steph.  Steph gives you a firm nod; in the corner of your eye, you can see Bruce arching a brow. Tim gapes at you looking absolutely gutted. “What happened to snitches get stitches?” Tim protests. 

 You shrug, grinning. “Sorry, Duckie, I stand by my cookie dealer. Who do you think sneaks Duke and me cheetos in Western Civilization? I stand by my fellow barbarian.”

“You know Duke?”

“I pay him to-”

“Shhhhh!” 

“You guys are talking too!”

“At least, it’s movie related!” Damian hisses. 

You throw up your hands with an exaggerated flail. “Fine!”

“I say it’s the shifty looking lady,” Jason declares, reaching over Duke and Steph to try and snatch some popcorn from Cass. You wonder why Jason doesn’t just snatch some from Alfred since he’s closer. You try to ask Tim but he just shakes his head at you.  “Ms.Peacock?” Cass asks, shoving Jason’s face away with butter covered fingers.  Duke tries to snatch a few kernels in the confusion only to get his hand swatted. “I think he means Mrs. White,” he says, waving his hand.  “Yeah that one.”

“It’s the butler! It’s always butler!” Dick protests. 

“I will fucking riot if it’s the butler!” Steph shoots back.

“It can’t be the butler.”

“Why not, Dami? He has motive.”

Damian rolls his eyes.“Gordon, why are you siding with Grayson?-” Babs opens her mouth to answer but Damain continues before she can get another syllable out “-nevermind. He doesn’t have as much motive as the rest of them. Besides, does he really look competent enough to hold a gun left alone with a knife?”

Tim raises his chin from your head. “Demon Spawn, your standards for butlers is too high. Alfred is-”

“You say this like you have plenty of references.” 

“Oh, Tommy Terrific, Duckie here is a posh bastard,” Jason sneers ruffling Tim’s hair. From the way, some of his hairs stick up you could guess that he still had some butter in his hand. Tim makes a face of disgust; you try your best to help him with his hair. “Jay, you say that but you’re like Mr. I need the correct type of wood for my bookshelves,” Steph laughs.  “Just because I’m not a slob like the rest of you walking disasters doesn’t mean I’m posh.”

“Yes, it does. You lived here. Yanno with Alfie,” Dick says, pulling out another pack of snacks he’d managed to snag from your bag. You’re not gonna ask at this point. Tim gives you a look which roughly translates to ‘I am very sorry for my trainwreck of a family’. You snort at him before turning towards his sibling. “I mean look at Cass. She’s still feral.” If looks could kill, the look Cass give you would melt your bones. Thankfully, Damian opens his mouth. “They’re all feral.” You have a sense that you’ve also been insulted. You hear Babs to your right laugh derisively. “You say this like you’re any less feral than the rest of us.”

“I am-”

“Are any of you still watching the movie?” Bruce asks and for the second time that night, your body tries to divorce your soul. You had almost forgotten that yes, you are watching Clue with the fucking Batman. You shift in your seat suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. Before the discomfort could nestle in you, Jason speaks up. “No, Bruce, we’re just watching Cass vacuum the popcorn into her stomach. What do you think?”

“You guys didn’t ask,” Cass says through a mouthful of popcorn knowing full well that’s a lie. 

“How can any of you be watching it? All you’ve done is talk over the dialogue.” You almost laugh at how exasperated he sounds. Beside you, Tim just snickers and shakes his head. 

Damian just looks at his father from his bean bag next to Dick. “Father, we can talk and listen. ” Dick, like the mature adult that he is, slaps his knee laughing. “I don’t think B is capable of that.”

“PREACH” was followed by a chorus of AMENs. 

"Alfred, what have I done to turn my children against me?" Bruce asks, tiredly leaning back into his recliner. 

"Master Bruce, how would you like me to list it?" 

"Alfred not you too," Bruce groans, putting his hands in his eyes. 

"Yeah! Alfie's on our side!" Jason cheers. 

"Quite."

"Alfie is always the sensible one," Cass chuckles sensibly between bites. You hear varying noises of agreement and Bruce ages from suave debonair to extremely tired single dad. 

"I assume Alfred is actually the boss here."

"Yeah, Bruce is actually on the bottom of the food chain here," Tim says. You tilt your head in  contemplation. "Yanno that makes Batman so much less scary." 

"B-man's just a giant softie," Steph chirps, slinging her legs over Duke and Cass's laps narrowly missing the nearly empty bowl of popcorn. 

Dick turns to you winking. "Yeah, just give him the puppy eyes and he'll  get you anything you want in 2 seconds flat." 

"Dick…" 

"It's true!"

"Even a carnival?" 

"Can we please just watch the movie?" Bruce says, in an almost pleading voice. 

"I wouldn't hold my breath, old man," Jason chuckles, earning a glare from both Bruce and Damian. "It's not like you know how to shut up, Todd." 

"Sorry, I don’t speak gremlin."

"That's bull Jay!" 

"MOVIE IS STILL GOING ON! SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLES." 

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE BUTLER.”

“Yes, yes, it has been publiced and noted, Birdie,” you giggle into Tim’s side, shaking your head. He wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss into your hair, winking at you. “Does it count?” Tim asks over his shoulder. A look passes between him and Cass. “I don’t think so,” she says grinning. 

“It so does! It’s one of the endings,” Dick protests vehemently. Jason’s mouth flattens then curls into a grin. “By that logic, the old man is right too.”

Dick thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Bruce protests. 

"I'm still sticking with the butler. I'm sorry this is the only logical conclusion." 

"He wasn't even an actual butler you butter brain!" Steph protests, throwing a pillow at Dick. 

"I'm sorry but can we address why you're all mounting a mutiny against me?" 

"Teenage rebellion!" Dick answers. 

"Chum, you're not even a teenager." 

"Father's right. At most, Grayson is five years old," Damian pipes from beside Dick seemingly unaffected by his brother's pout. 

"Alfred, you're going to have to check my blood pressure before patrol." 

"Quite, sir."

“They’re all so dramatic just like you said,” you whisper into Tim’s shoulder. 

“I AM NOT DRAMATIC”

“Ah, yes, because the pretty man pose is so pragmatic.” Damian deadpan.  

"That was one time, you assholes!" 

"Hey, what else did Timmy say?" 

"Well he- Oh wait!" You fish out your phone and Tim snacthes it away faster than you can blink. "No-" cough "-you don't." Cough. 

Jason snatches it from him, snickering at the photo of Tim kissing you on the cheek. You're pretty sure Tim has a matching photo with you kissing him on the cheek. "Nice lockscreen, (y/n)."

"Oh, you should see the homescreen!" 

"No. Please don't. You might need eye bleach." 

"Relax Space Cadet, it’s not that one." 

"Ohohoho, what didn't you want big daddy bats to see? Haaa, Timbo?" 

Tim turns every shade of red before settling on fire hydrant red. "None of your business!"

Bruce clears his throat, looking at a stupidly expensive watch. “It’s time.” Dick springs up, stretching and showing off.  “Is it really that time already?” Steph asks in almost a whine. Duke and Cass take the opportunity to shove her off and sadly, she lands with a loud thud and a mangled curse. You wince but laugh unsympathetically which simply earns you a face full of dust covered popcorn. You frown at her and she grins at you as Jason hauls her up by her hoodie. “C’mon Blondie. Let’s leave the love birds alone.”

“It’s not like they’re actually gonna be alone. Alfie’s here. So is Babs.”

“I’m going back to my place. You people give me a headache.” 

“You say that like you weren’t having fun,” Dick teases, walking after her. 

“I’ll be down in the cave if you need me,” Alfred says waving at both of you. “Will do, Alf,” Tim yawns, nuzzling into your hair. 

Cass pops her head back in. “Make sure Tim doesn’t do anything stupid,” She calls back. You grin, bright and wolfish. “Don’t worry! He can’t do me while he’s sick.” You hear Bruce choke in the hall and you just know that you’ll mentally kick yourself for that later. Luckily for you, Tim physically kicks you now. “What the hell?!” Cough. “Sorry, got caught in the moment.” You huff, trying to look a little sorry. Tim just glares more. “You’re not even close to sorry.”

“Ok. Yeah.”

“I have no idea why I love you sometimes.”

“My amazing personality?”

“Sure.”

“Love you too, Tim,” you chirp, kissing him. Tim’s lips feel hot after the quick peck and he pulls you closer. “I love you but I was pretty sure my family was gonna eat you alive.”

“They would have done it,” you hum, pausing before adding, “respectfully.”  

  Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 19

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 19

Chapter Summary: Just a bunch of random fluff for the time being.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, and so much tooth rotting fluff.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13} {Chapter 14} {Chapter 15} {Chapter 16} {Chapter 17} {Chapter 18}

“Faye?” Henry called out, wandering into the living room where she was lounging on the couch with Kal.

“Yes?” Faye asked slowly, lifting her head from the fluffy canine’s side.

“Would you mind looking this over? Tell me if you’re ok with it?” Henry requested, handing her his phone to look over his newest Instagram post in the making, several pictures lined up and awaiting her approval.

First, was one of his signature boomer selfies, his face and chest covered in pony and princess stickers, glitter shimmering on the planes of his face, almost shining as bright as his smile. Second was a snapshot of his feet, nail polish globbed on the ends of his toes, Briar’s tiny hands in the frame adding more onto the top of his foot. Next was another selfie, his curls now tugged up into random tufts, secured with bright glittery hair ties, another amused smile on his face. Last was a small video clip of Briar painting makeup on his face, chatting away about the differences between unicorns and pegasus’, Henry asking at the very end if he was pretty yet, only for Briar to very definitively tell him ‘no’ and continue brushing over his face with more eyeshadow.

The post was captioned as:

“Girl Dad

#girldad

#glitterbomb

#amIprettynow?”

“That… that’s adorable.” Faye gushed, throwing her arms around his neck, his nervousness fading away. He had yet to introduce his fanbase to Briar. They had seen Faye a few times, different paparazzi photos surfacing of the two of them out together along with her accompanying him to the Witcher premiere. Neither of them minded Faye being photographed. She knew what she was signing up for, and Henry was always careful to only show her the good comments and headlines. The last thing he wanted was for her to be driven away thinking she wasn’t good enough again.

They had yet to reveal Briar’s presence, however. He had a Zoom interview later on in the week, and they had agreed that he could mention her if he was asked about family life. This was just him wanting to reveal his daughter on his own terms before people began trying to invade the child’s privacy. He could already see the feisty toddler chasing after someone with a camera, smacking them with her stuffed rabbit, Kal dutifully chasing after her.

Though, in retrospect, Kal may actually not chase after Briar to back her up. In the last couple of weeks, he had been by Faye’s side almost constantly. Not that he was jealous or anything, but he wasn’t exactly happy about now being Kal’s third favorite human. He’d raised that dog since he was ten weeks old, then Briar comes into his life and suddenly she’s the best thing ever. Now that Faye was pregnant, he split his time between curling up next to Faye and playing with Briar. The only time Henry spent with him was when he fed him, literally drug him out for a walk and at nighttime when he would lay on Faye’s legs all night. The poor dog was going to go crazy after the baby was born trying to split his time between everyone.

“So, is it ok to post?” Henry asked, shooing Kal from the couch so he could be closer to his fiancé. The dog was less than pleased to be uprooted form his spot, but relented and laid at her feet instead, huffing in annoyance as he laid his giant head on her tattooed foot.

“Well, nothing is showing her face, and I can tell you’re about to explode if you don’t tell the world about her soon.” Faye teased, gently kissing his stubbly cheek.

“I’m going to disable comments on it.” Henry explained, taking his phone back to finish the post and upload it to Instagram.

“Might be a good idea.” Faye agreed, peering over his shoulder as the images uploaded, hugging his thick arm to her chest. “I love you so much.”

“Aww. The baby’s making you all mushy.” Henry teased, dropping his phone onto the couch and wrapping his arms around her, kissing the crown of her head.

“Shut up.” Faye whined, leaning further into him, her face drawing into a pout.

“Please don’t cry, I was just teasing.” Henry requested softly.

“Sorry. Hormones are making me crazy.” Faye apologized, hiding her face in his chest.

“There’s no need to apologize.” Henry assured, squeezing her a little tighter.

“We’re going to have to tell Briar eventually.”

“We can’t just wait until the baby gets here and just be all ‘surprise! You’re a big sister!’?”

“No. She’s going to wonder why I’m getting so fat long before then. There will be questions. They might make me cry. Are you still going to love me when I’m huge?” Faye asked suspiciously.

“When you’re rounded out carrying my baby, tits full and just begging to be sucked on? I’m probably going to have a hard time keeping my hands off of you.”

“You can’t keep your hands to yourself now.” Faye teased, turning her head to look up at him.

“You aren’t wrong. I love feeling your skin on mine. In any way I can get it. Kissing you.” He whispered, gently kissing her neck. “Holding your hand.” He continued, tangling their fingers together as he nipped at her neck. “But best of all, I love being buried balls deep in that sweet little pussy of yours.”

“Bedroom. Now.” Faye hissed, Henry popping up with her in his arms, all to eager to carry her back to their bedroom, closing and locking the door before Kal had the chance to squeeze his way in.

~*~

“Just pull it off like a band aid, right?”

“Quick and easy and it’ll be over with.” Henry agreed, wrapping one large paw around her hip and pulling her closer.

“Briar, can you come here for a minute?” Faye called, resting a hand on his knee.

“Hi Mommy!” Briar greeted enthusiastically, practically tacking her mother as she launched herself into her lap, stuffed bunny still in tow.

“Hi.” Faye giggled, situating her daughter in her lap. “Briar, Mommy and Papa have something to tell you.” Faye started, Briar turning her wide innocent gaze up to her mother expectantly. “Henry?” Faye delegated, looking up at him.

“Princess, you’re a big sister. Mummy and Papa are having another baby.” Henry explained, Briar staring blankly up at him for what felt like an eternity, processing what he just said.

“Where?” She finally asked, Henry stifling a laugh at her innocent question.

“The baby is in Mommy’s tummy.” Faye told her, taking her daughter’s tiny hand and resting it on her stomach.

“You ate baby?!” Briar gasped, her eyes going wide as she frantically pulled up her mother’s shirt. “I get you out baby!” She yelled, poking at her mother’s navel, Henry unable to contain his laughter this time.

“The baby needs to stay in Mommy’s tummy until they’re ready to be born. They’re still too little.”

“How baby get there?” Briar asked, continuing to poke at her mother’s stomach curiously.

“Papa put the baby there so they can grow big and strong.”

“Big and strong like Papa!” Briar giggled.

“Yes, like Papa.” Faye laughed. “So, Mommy’s tummy is going to get bigger and bigger as the baby grows, just like when you were in my tummy.”

“I was in you belly?” Briar whispered in amazement. “Papa tummy get big too?”

“Yes, you were and no, I don’t see Papa getting a big tummy anytime soon.” Faye laughed.

“Nope, no tummy.” Briar confirmed after pulling up Henry’s t-shirt and taking in his still firm, furry abdomen.

“Thank you.” Henry chuckled, pushing his shirt back down and kissing the top of her head. “So, is that ok with you, princess? Would you like to be a big sister?”

“Yeah! I help with baby!” Briar squealed excitedly, hugging her stuffed bunny close to her chest and bouncing on her mother’s lap.

“Will you show Papa how to take care of a baby?” Henry asked, Briar nodding her head excitedly.

“Yeah! I show you!” She agreed.

“Ok, how do you hold the baby?” Henry asked, leaning down to look her in the eye.

“Like this!” Briar explained, cradling her stuffed rabbit in her arms.

“Ok, I think I can do that. How do you burp the baby?” Briar flipped the bunny up onto her shoulder, smacking it on the back and looking up at Henry to make sure he was paying attention. “Alright. What about feeding, how do you feed a baby?”

Without missing a beat, Briar pulled up her shirt and pressed the bunny’s face to her chest, Henry bursting out laughing along with Faye. “Very good, sweetheart.” Faye praised around a laugh, kissing the top of her daughter’s head. “Now why don’t you go play with Kal for a little bit?”

“Kal!” Briar called, hopping off her mother’s lap and running off to her room, the canine hot on her heels.

“I still don’t think I’m going to be very good at breastfeeding.” Henry lamented, Faye snickering and shaking her head.

“Yours are still bigger than mine.” Faye pointed out, playfully grabbing at his chest.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore.” Henry teased, resting one hand on the side of his chest she wasn’t groping and the other on Faye’s swollen breasts, pretending to contemplate as he shamelessly squeezed at her chest.

“You may have a point. The only bras that fit anymore are sports bras. I’m gonna need to buy more. Sports bras and swollen tits are not a fun combination right now.”

“You have my attention.” Henry purred, perking up at her declaration.

“Henry, I’m going to be getting ugly nursing bras, not sexy lingerie.”

“Why not both?”

“Really?”

“What? You’ve been pouncing me at least twice a day for the last week. How is me wanting to see my gorgeous pregnancy fiancé in something sexy out of line?”

“Ok, first of all, I haven’t been pouncing on you twice a day.” Faye started, Henry raising an amused eyebrow at her declaration. “I may have suggested we get closer a few more times than usual, but it’s not like I’m barging in while you’re busy to try and get some. I’m not some sex crazed maniac.”

“You barged in on me showering twice.”

“You do that to me all the time!”

“And I haven’t been able to complete a workout without you demanding I finish with a round of couples cardio.”

“Have you seen what you look like all sweaty with your muscles all pumped up? It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

“I also seem to remember you surprising me in the gaming room and riding me while I was on coms playing world of warcraft.”

“Ok, so like one slutty instance.” Faye scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“There was also that time last week when we went out for dinner. You had your hand shoved down my trousers before the driver even finished putting up the partition.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was bothering you so much.” Faye grouched, crossing her arms and scooting away from him.

“You’re not bothering me at all.” Henry laughed, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. “I’m just making a point. You can’t keep your hands off of me, and I’m loving every minute of it.”

“Wouldn’t mind your hands on me a little more.” Faye lamented, turning sideways on the couch and tossing her legs over his, leaning back to rest her head on the armrest.

“Are you hinting at something?” Henry asked, his fingers just barely skimming above the waistband of her leggings, a shiver following in their wake.

“Probably not what you’re thinking. My calves have been really tight lately. It would be great if my loving fiancé were to rub them down for me.”

“Are you sure that’s all you’re wanting?” Henry teased, his hands sliding down her legs to gently knead at her tense muscles.

“We’ll see.” Faye half yawned, already settling down for her usual mid-afternoon nap.  

~*~

“Faye.” Henry started out sternly, crossing his arms and raising a brow at his fiancé as she attempted to look innocently over her shoulder.

“Yes, my love?”

“What do you have there?”

“Nothing.”

“So, it’s not another cup of coffee that I’m smelling?” Henry challenged, crossing the room as Faye sat the cup down on the counter, spinning around to face him.

“But… the baby…”

“The baby is the exact reason you asked me to make sure you’re not drinking as much caffeine. Remember what the doctor suggested? Only one a day.” Henry scolded, gripping her hips to pull her closer.

“The baby wants coffee.” Faye whimpered, giving him her best puppy dog face.

“Then the baby will have to settle for decaf.”

“It’s not the same! Why are you being so mean?”

“I’m not. You told me not to let you drink more caffeine than you should, so I am.”

“Can’t you just leave me alone for two minutes? One extra every now and then is fine!” Faye growled.

“Of course I can leave you alone. I’m doing what you asked me to, so don’t yell at me.” Henry stated calmly, reaching past her to grab the pot from the coffee maker, dumping it out and taking it with him to his office, wincing at her irritated ranting. She had been very clear and adamant about him monitoring, and limiting her caffeine intake, especially coffee. Unfortunately, her most recent craving had been exactly what he had been told to keep her from. Why couldn’t she just crave normal things, like pickles and ice cream? No, she had to be obsessed with something she couldn’t have, and now she was extremely upset with him for doing exactly what she had asked him to do. He could almost feel more gray streaking through his hair.

He was just finishing up a phone call with a contractor when he could hear her again, this time strangled sobs and quiet sniffles meeting his ears rather than her ranting. He was up and out the door in a second, almost running into her when he found her loitering just outside the door.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Henry asked, holding her shoulders gently and leaning down to look at her more closely.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Faye apologized, looking up at him with red rimmed eyes.

“Faye, please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry, I just feel really bad. You’re just doing what I asked, and I started screaming at you!”

“Faye, darling, please calm down.” Henry soothed, pulling her closer and letting her cry into his chest. “I’m not mad, I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Faye, I’m not mad.” Henry insisted, kissing the top of her head. “There’s nothing to forgive. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Faye sniffled, wrapping her arms around his thick waist and squeezing him tight. “I’m sorry I was acting so crazy.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Henry repeated, rubbing her back softly. “The builders are going to be starting later on this week.”

“Really?” Faye sniffed, looking back up at him, Henry cupping her face and wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

“Yes. I told you we would get it done in time. It does mean we’ll have to watch Kal when he’s outside now, make sure he’s not getting into anything.”

“This doesn’t even feel real. I’m engaged to an amazing man, pregnant with his baby, living in a house with more than two rooms in it, and now we’re building a guest house out back.” Faye half laughed, reaching up to rest her hands on his wrists.

“Well, originally I wanted to move back to Jersey before we started expanding out family, but well… that didn’t happen. I don’t think moving out of a house we just moved into while you’re pregnant is a good idea, and we don’t have any family that lives close. Next best thing is building a guest house so family can stay without everyone being under each other’s feet.”

“Are you still wanting to move back to Jersey?”

“It would be wonderful if we could, but only if that’s also what you want. I just wanted us to be closer to family.”

“Maybe after I recover would be a good time. Kinda sucks that we’re building just to sell the house not long after.”

“We don’t have to sell it. Unless you’re not wanting to come back here at all.”

“Hen, you have to remember, I’m not the kind of person that owns multiple houses. I’m used to renting questioningly inhabitable apartments.”

“Never again.” Henry stated firmly. “Only the best for you from now on.”

~*~

Five minutes. They made it five minutes before being interrupted. Four minutes longer than he thought it would take. He gave Briar specific instructions not to come into his office until the door was open again. He never should have said anything. She normally never went into his office, finding the room ‘boring’ even after she put stickers all over the back of the door and window clings to the window. Now that he had told her not to come in, she was looking for reasons to do just that.

The interviewer had just asked him a question, and he opened his mouth to answer when he saw the door opening out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, Princess?” Henry sighed, smiling and turning his head to see her standing perfectly still in the doorway.

“Hi.” She whispered, quickly running over to him and throwing her arms around his leg. “I love you!”

“I love you too, Princess.” Henry replied quietly, gently removing her from his leg and shooing her off towards the door, “Papa’s busy right now, so you need to wait outside, ok?”

“Ok.” Briar agreed, sitting down in the open doorway and staring at him again.

“Can you close the door, please?”

“But I wanna see you.” Briar pouted, her face falling at his stern look, standing herself up and closing the door again. He could faintly hear her crying her way down the hall, his heart shattering at the sound.

“Sorry.” Henry apologized, shifting uncomfortably. He wanted nothing more than to go and apologize for pushing her away like that, but the interview wasn’t quite over yet.

“Was that your daughter?”

“Yes, it was.” Henry responded, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“When are we going to get a peek at your family? There have been rumors of you settling down.”

“Yes, I am settling down.” Henry agreed, “I have found the most wonderful, amazing woman. We don’t want the children to be drawn into everything, though. That’s a pretty big boundary for us.”

“Children? As in, more than one?”

“We do see more children in our future.” Henry skittered around the question. Faye had been adamant about waiting until they knew what they were having before announcing it to the world.

“Papa, I brought you something.” Briar’s small voice cut in, peeking her head around the cracked open door, holding up a sticker she had already peeled from its backing.

“Thank you, princess. Papa’s trying to work now.” Henry chastised softly, leaning down when she crossed the room to let her place the pony sticker on his cheek.

“Almost done?” Briar asked hopefully, batting her lashes at him.

“Almost. Why don’t you go get Kal’s leash on him? We’ll take him for a walk just as soon as I finish up here.”

“Ok, Papa!” Briar gasped excitedly, rushing out the open door again.

“That should give us about two minutes.” Henry laughed, turning his attention back to the screen. “I’m terribly sorry about all the interruptions. I would have come in person, but my fiancé isn’t feeling quite well, and I didn’t want to leave her.”

“It’s alright, I understand.” The interviewer assured, flipping through their notes again. “Last question, do you have any future projects in the works?”

“I have one movie that is in post right now, but I haven’t lined anything up right now for afterwards. I’m focusing more on family at the moment.”

“You’ve stated before that having a family was your dream. What’s it feel like to have it actually happening right now?”

“I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.”

Tags:  @weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay @packerfan43

[cole-grey-writes]

Brown Hair Braided

Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Timeline: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Character(s): Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Pairing(s): Stucky x Male Reader

Warning(s): tooth rotting fluff

Request: Hi king!! Your writing is amazing! I’d love to request a cuddly stucky x boyfriend reader. Bonus points for extra snuggly long haired Bucky and Steve and the reader playing with his hair.

A/n: WOW so sorry this took me a while to get up. I was busy with online classes and homework, all that shit. and if anyone is interested to know, i finished applying to my first college (yeah cutting it suuuper short but fuck im a procrastinator). I really hope you enjoy this fic. Keep sending in your requests, i really like writing for you guys!

You sit at the desk that sits in your bedroom, doing some last minute paperwork before the weekend. You’re startled from your focus and analytical thoughts when you get a frantic text from one of your boyfriends, Steve. You smile.

It's been a couple years since you had started going out with Steve but it still feels like you two were in the honeymoon phase. Steve brings a smile to your face at even the slightest mention of him. Although, you’re a little confused as to why Steve didn’t just call you. It’s what he usually prefers to converse with you while you are away from each other, Steve having told you it had something to do with liking to hear your voice. You chose not to dig further to spare Steve’s already tomato red face from exploding.

You turn away from your computer and small stack of papers, picking up your phone just as the screen lights up with another text.

Steve [5:23 p.m.]    Y/N Y/N Y/N

Steve [5:23 p.m.]    HEY

Steve [5:24 p.m.]    ANSWER

You snort, wondering what Steve seems so excited about.

You [5:24 p.m.]    what

Steve [5:23 p.m.]    BUCK IS COMING HOME

You’re immediately sitting up straight, smile spreading even wider. You now understand why Steve had chosen to text you, probably embarrassed to start loudly squealing over their boyfriend coming home while in his place of work.

Bucky was your other boyfriend, something you wouldn’t have believed if you were to bring it up with your past self. This is mostly due to the almost palpable tension between the two of you when you and Bucky officially met about a year prior.

You, Steve, Sam, and occasionally Natasha, had been trailing after Bucky all over Europe for a few months. Bucky must have been slowly rebuilding himself during that time because he had suddenly stopped running right before you were going to hit the four (4) month mark.

You didn’t understand where all the awkwardness had been coming from. For all you knew, you were just looking for Steve’s childhood best friend, one of the only people to still remain from Steve’s old life. That was, until Sam and Natasha started making offhand comments about how deep Steve and Bucky’s friendship seemed to run (you honestly didn’t and don’t blame either of them for the new wave of insecurities that flooded your mind, you and Steve having agreed to keep the relationship, which you started only a few weeks before the reveal of HYDRA’s secret operations inside SHIELD, you started a secret until you two became more comfortable).

Everything made sense after that. It was understandable that you and Bucky had a fragile relationship in the beginning. And it really was only in the beginning. It didn’t take long before you and Bucky started bonding over your shared love for Steve and it didn’t take long after that before something started forming between the three of.

You [5:25 p.m.]    !!!!!

You [5:26 p.m.]    OMG

You [5:26 p.m.]    REALLY?!?

Steve [5:26 p.m.]    YES!

Steve [5:26 p.m.]    we need to hurry he’s on the way home rn

You [5:26 p.m.]    oH UM

You [5:27 p.m.]    i’m home rn

You [5:27 p.m.]    i can set up everything here

Steve [5:27 p.m.]    good!!

Steve [5:27 p.m.]    i can get dinner and dessert on my way home

You [5:27 p.m.]    perfect

Steve [5:28 p.m.]    ok 123 brEAK

You snort at Steve’s comedic antics as you push yourself away from your desk and away from your work. You know that you'll have to finish those at some point before monday. You’ll most likely be doing it late sunday night due to the fact that you’re going to be completely preoccupied with your boyfriends all weekend because it's been a few weeks since all three of you have been together.

This is obviously due to your hectic work schedules, Steve stuck with what was left of SHIELD, unofficially of course, doing top secret secret agent missions. Bucky had joined him in that soon after he was cleared for it. You, on the other hand, have a very typical and boring office job, a job that has become very demanding as of late with your boss giving out extra paperwork around your floor.

But, you don’t have to worry about that at the moment, you remind yourself. That thought spurs you into moving around your apartment, an apartment that you’ve been sharing with your boyfriends for a couple of months now. You note this fact with a small surge of glee inside your head as you rush to your closet where you keep all your blankets at.

You pull out the blankets you have, which is quite a lot, a fact you’re slightly embarrassed to admit. You’ve accumulated a bunch of them throughout your entire life, some as gifts from your friends and family and others from your lack of self control during the fall and winter time of the blatant holiday themes are anything to go by. You’re pretty sure your old baby blankets are boxed up somewhere, likely under your bed.

You pile the load of blankets high in your arms, so much so that you can’t see where you’re going if you don’t walk sideways as you make your way towards the living room. The living room where everything is going to happen.

Dropping the mountain of blankets on the couch unceremoniously, you immediately start to arrange them all around the couch. You bunch and ball the blankets around the back of the couch, trying to form a cocoon out of them so that you, Steve, and Bucky can remain warm no matter where or how any of you sit while you watch movie after movie throughout the rest of the night.

Which reminds you, it’s not possible to have a movie night without any movies.

turning to the small movie rack that sits next to the TV, you waste no time at all in picking out any movies that catch your eye which are quite a few movies, a good number of which are Steve and Bucky’s favorites. You set the, rather large, stack of movies next to the couch blanket fort so they’re out and ready to pick through whenever.

You’re left with a small clean up after that. You clear off the coffee table for when Steve gets home with the food, picking up leftover coffee mugs (courtesy of Steve) and rinsing them before sticking them in the dishwasher for you to deal with later. Then, you move the books lying around the living room to the miniature bookshelf in your bedroom before gathering all the drawing paper and well used pencils (also courtesy of Steve) and placing those on the left bedside table, the side Steve likes to sleep on when he’s not in the middle.

You wander around the apartment after that, looking for anything else to clean while you wait for Steve to arrive. It takes less time than you think it should have, which is surprising, so surprising that you almost think someone is politely breaking in when you hear the sound of the door clicking open and closed.

You head out of your bedroom where you were perusing a book, something you could distract yourself with, when you heard. You walk into the kitchen to see Steve already unpacking the food, clearly having rushed home.

You’re not able to hold back your smile upon seeing your boyfriend for the first time in weeks. “Need any help?” you wonder, your appearance catching Steve’s attention. He turns towards you, it being quite obvious that Steve is as excited to see you as you are to see him if the wide smile that spreads across his face in seconds is anything to go by.

Steve pauses in his unpacking to lean towards as you approach him swiftly, so he can pull you into a warm kiss. You and Steve feel each other smile during the kiss, making you two smile even harder. “Help would be great,” Steve tells you after you separate. He resumes unpacking the food from the plastic bag it was put into.

You identify the logo on the bag now that you’re so close and it’s clear that the food is from Bucky’s favorite burger place. You take note of the food as you help Steve set everything out on the counter. There’s three (3) different to-go boxes, no doubt filled with favorite menu items. You also spot three (3) medium sized milkshakes sitting in the cup container.

“Dessert?”

“It’s in the fridge,” Steve informs you.

Making a sound of interest and curiosity, you ask, “What is it?”

Steve smirks and raises his eyebrows. “Went to the store and got one of those ice cream cakes Buck likes.”

“Well,” you start, “that will certainly be a nice treat for later.”

You and Steve share a smile as you both grab the food and milkshakes so you can bring it to the living room. The living room where you plan to have dinner and a show with your two wonderful super-soldier boyfriends.

Afterwards, you and Steve resign yourselves to standing around the kitchen, catching up on the last few weeks. You and Steve are ready to happily greet Bucky once the time comes that he opens the door.

It feels like time drags on and on while you two are waiting so you’re very much thankful when you finally hear the turning of the doorknob. You and Steve separate from where you had been wrapped around each other, turning and shouting Bucky’s name in excitement. Just as he walks through the door, Bucky is all bashful as soon as he sees his two boyfriends greet him with spread arms and wide smiles.

You look him up and down for the first time in quite awhile, Bucky just as gorgeous as he always was. He clearly showered and changed beforehand if the damp hair and sweatpants are anything to go by.

Bucky drops the gym bag, obviously filled with his dirty and possibly damaged suit, on the floor. He stretches his arms out, resting each hand on the back of your and Steve’s necks so he can pull you both in close to give each of you a kiss on the lips.

“Welcome home.”

“Welcome home indeed,” Bucky rumbles back, a heart-eye look sweeping across his face. You’re one of the two people on earth that gets to receive that look, not that you mean to brag or anything.

“I’ll take your bag and put it in our room,” Steve tells Bucky. Bucky thanks him before he pulls Steve into another kiss. It’s something you feel there’s going to be a lot of for the rest of the evening, which you look forward to.

Steve takes Bucky’s gym bag from him before walking off so he can do exactly as he said, leaving you and your other boyfriend by yourselves in the kitchen. Once Steve is out of reach, you feel Bucky’s hand move from the back of your neck to your waist, which allows him to pull you in close. He presses you against his chest so he can engage in a deep reunion kiss. It’s been a long time since you’ve last felt his lips against yours which is why you allow yourself to indulge.

You have to force yourself to take a step back. “Not that I'm not enjoying this, because I 100 percent am, but…” you trail off as you take Bucky’s hand in yours, ”we should go to the living room for your first surprise.”

“First surprise?” Bucky’s tone lilts in clear interest, eyebrows raising. It’s almost as if he’s joking but you’re able to tell that Bucky’s genuinely looking forward to what you and Steve have prepared for him.

“We haven’t seen each other properly in weeks. There’s a lot to catch up on.”

“Well, I am definitely looking forward to it. Lead the way, doll,” Bucky instructs you, causing you to chuckle before you turn away from him in order for him to lead him into the living room.

You present the done up living room with wide open arms and an enthusiastic ‘ta-da’ and it seems that if Bucky’s smile could get bigger, it probably would. He surveys your and Steve’s work before he turns back towards you and also Steve, who has just rejoined you and Bucky. “What do you think, Buck?”

“You know what I think, Stevie baby,” Bucky tells him, grabbing one of each of your and Steve’s hands. “I absolutely love it.”

Changing the subject a little, you say, “Well, pick a seat because none of us are moving for anything other than changing the movie and getting dessert.”

Bucky hums, his voice lifting up high at the end. “Dessert, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve dismisses before his boyfriend could get any ideas. “You have to finish your dinner first.”

Bucky nods eagerly, not in any way bothered by being withheld dessert, before he takes his seat in the middle of the couch. He clearly wants to have his boyfriends cuddled up on either side of him.

“So, what do you want to watch first?” you question while you scoot the pile of movies closer to Bucky, who doesn’t take any time at all to begin picking out the movie he wants. And as it turns out, it’s a horror movie called The Apparition.

While he takes it from the pile, Bucky comments, “Been awhile since I’ve seen one fo these.”

“Horror movie, huh?” Steve jokes. “Trying to be our knight in shining armor while we cower behind you in fear?” you laugh alongside your boyfriends.

You settle back on the couch once you’ve taken the movie from Bucky and put it in the DVD player, which begins to play shortly after. You and your boyfriends snuggle into each other’s sides, feet pulled close to your bodies as you all munch on your food.

Well, it’s more like Steve and Bucky are eating their food. At the moment, you were less interested in your food and more interested in Bucky. Your boyfriend was distracting in general, both of them were. But it’s the smooth brown waves of Bucky’s hair that’s distracting you specifically. It looks so soft, especially so after Bucky’s washed it, and you just want to run your fingers through it, play with it for hours.

Your eyes wander down to your wrist as you continue to think about your boyfriend’s long hair, eyes catching on the little black band around your wrist. It’s a hair tie, one that you and Steve always have wrapped around your wrists for this precise reason. For tying up Bucky’s hair when he needs or wants to. It’s a habit to keep hair ties on your person constantly, originating right around the time Bucky was cleared to go on missions. He had decided that he wanted to keep his hair long, at least for the time being, so as the length of Bucky’s hair grew larger so did the need for hair ties at any given time.

You glance between Bucky’s hair and the hair tie, your self control wearing thin. After only a few seconds, you’re not able to help yourself from reaching your hand out to your boyfriend’s beautiful brown hair. You weave your fingers through a few strands is all it takes for your desire to skyrocket.

Tangling both of your hands to Bucky’s hair, you feel him pause in his eating but you pay it no mind as you begin to languidly braid his hair. It’s not long before another pair of hands join yours. Looking over, you spot a giddy Steve on the other side of Bucky. It appears as if your thoughts have rubbed off on him because he grabs the other half of Bucky’s hair so he can braid it alongside you.

Bucky chuckles, clearly amused. “You two are ridiculous.” Although, you wonder if Bucky can really blame you.

“Your hair is really beautiful, though,” Steve adds. Bucky doesn’t say anything in response, not that it matters. The blush that highlights his cheeks for the next five minutes is telling enough.

You and Steve share knowing looks as you both continue to braid your boyfriend’s hair, permanent smiles stretching across your faces.

(NOT MY GIF)

Main Blog // Other Side Blog

((NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE EVEN WITH CREDIT))

[twomoonstwosuns]

birthday.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: smut (18+), delicious tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 3.4k

a/n: thank you guys so much for being patient, I know this took way too long. if you saw my posts you know I was dealing with some medical stuff and ended up in the hospital for a few days, but I’m better and back at work. And thank you to everyone for your kind words <3 anyways here’s some soft af smut, I hope it makes you feel feelings.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It had been the longest three and a half weeks of your life. 

Ever since you found out he had threatened to expose your relationship, it was like you saw Hux everywhere. You had never really seen him around campus before, but now he seemed to be around every corner or in every coffee line and you could swear he was watching you. 

You had shed a few tears when you got back to your apartment, your roommates immediately sitting you down and listening to the entire story. You were still in shock that someone could be so selfish to use something so personal to someone as a weapon. Hux was a professor that neither you nor your roommates had had, but he was known as a decent teacher around the school. 

Though decent teacher and decent human being were clearly two different things. 

The collection of your boyfriend’s sweatshirts had slowly started to build since the beginning of March but there was one particular sweatshirt of his that was incredibly soft from being washed so many times that you loved. He always teased you about it because it was also his favorite. So you were surprised to find that sweatshirt plus a ratty well-loved t-shirt that featured a band you’d never heard of before in your bag when you got home, tears welling in your eyes at the touching gesture. 

Class was painful. Twice a week you were able to actually see Poe, but you had to stop yourself from staring at him like you were completely infatuated when there were other people around. Conversations with him were class-related and boring, not exactly the pillow talk you’d grown to love. It rubbed the whole situation the two of you were in right in your face. 

The closest you got to touching him was when he handed you back a first draft of a long essay he had assigned. Your fingers accidentally brushed against his as you took your paper from him and you didn’t get the chance to react because Kaydel leaned over and asked how your paper was looking. You flipped through the pages and were reading through some of the comments he made when you saw two tiny blue post it notes on the fourth page, one with an ‘I miss you’ and the other with a ‘you look beautiful today’ and a drawing of the heart eyes smiley face. You bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely, but you were swooning inside.  

Being told you couldn’t have what you wanted sucked. 

You woke the morning of your birthday with your two roommates bursting into your room blasting Taylor Swift’s “22” and holding your favorite scone and mixed coffee drink from your favorite local café. They had surprises lined up for you that night, starting at seven when you were all done with classes. When they left your room, you laid back in bed and willed the motivation to get ready for class to come to you. Your phone dinged beside you and a smile immediately formed on your face when you saw it was from Poe. 

At least you were still able to text him and call him and FaceTime him. 

You opened the message he sent, seeing an audio message instead of a text. The sound of his guitar filled your ears and the strings plucked the familiar tune of “Happy Birthday”, his voice soft enough to send you back to sleep.

“I miss you, baby,” he said as finished playing “Happy birthday.”

You wanted to text him ‘I love you’ right then and there, but you didn’t. It kind of scared you how strongly you felt about him after only being with him for a few months and the last thing you wanted to do was make this separation permanent. So you stayed quiet, saying it in your head as you drifted off to sleep each night. 

You hated when your birthdays landed on weekdays. There was something so much more fun about making a day out of your birthday than spending over half the day stuck in class. You paid very little attention, going through multiple happy birthday texts and social media posts from friends and family, and of course texting Poe when he was in between classes. 

Your roommates treated you to dinner at a local bistro, a place you had all been eyeing on going since you were freshmen. It was a little more upscale, so you promised yourself you’d make time for it before you graduated. Jessika had left before you and Karé to stop by work, a scheduling issue that she said would take ten minutes to fix turned into twenty and made her late for dinner. The service at the bistro was surprisingly quick for a Friday night and she had to order after you and Karé already placed yours. 

Dinner turned into wanting to grab drinks at Maz’s, the special birthday drink famously known throughout campus. On the way to the bar you got on the phone with your mom and sister, confirming the plan to drive home the next day to celebrate your birthday with them. You were so wrapped up in the conversation of what your mother was going to make for your birthday dinner that you didn’t even notice you weren’t at the bar until the car had stopped and you hung up the phone.

“Wait, what are we doing back at the apartment?”

Jessika leaned forward onto the console and looked at you. “Will you run in and get my card?”

“What? No.”

“Please.”

“Why me?”

“Because you used it last.”

“Um…no I didn’t.”

“Yes you did, last week when we ordered pizza.”

“I gave it back to you.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Oh my god, will someone just go get the card?” Karé said exasperatedly.

“Y/N, go.”

You look back at Jessika and narrow your eyes. 

“You’ve been missing your card for a week and you just noticed it was missing?”

“No time for judgment, just go find it please. I think it’s in the kitchen.”

You rolled your eyes and opened the car door, slamming it on Jessika’s “thank you”. You rushed inside, your phone buzzing with Jessika’s name flashing across your screen. 

“I swear to god Jessika, if you tell me you just found your card in your wallet—“

“I didn’t, I just remembered a few other places you could check in case it’s not where I think it is.”

You took the elevator up to the third floor where your apartment was, Jessika chattering away in your ear. You speed-walked down the hallway, pulling your keys out of your pocket. 

“Are you there yet?”

“Calm down, I’m unlocking the door now. Where am I supposed to look for your credit card?”

“Did you take it into your bedroom at all?”

“No.”

“Then try the kitchen counter first.”

You walked into the apartment, confused as to why it wasn’t pitch black. “One of you left a light on!”

Karé and Jessika both mumbled something incoherent into the phone as you walked towards the kitchen and you suddenly stopped cold in your tracks. Standing in front of you was Poe, his eyes lighting up and a wide smile crossing his face illuminated by the lamp in the living room when he saw you. A single cupcake with a lone candle sat in his hand. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

You were speechless, your mouth attempting to form words but failing miserably as your brain wondered if you were hallucinating. Birthday or not, he was the last person you expected to see. 

“Surprise!” Jessika and Karé exclaimed into the phone, taking your silence as the sign you had found your surprise. “We got you for the evening so Poe’s got you for the night! We’ve got Beebs and we’re spending the night elsewhere. Have fun, we’ll see you in the morning!”

They hung up on you but you still didn’t move, still too stunned that this was real. Poe chuckled and blew out the candle on the cupcake so wax wouldn’t melt onto it before setting it down. He tilted his head to catch your eye with a smirk on his face. 

“Sweetheart?”

You set your phone and keys down on the counter and walked swiftly towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your head in his shoulder. Poe returned your fervent embrace, lifting you off the ground as he hugged you just as tightly as you were hugging him. He pressed a kiss to the juncture of your shoulder and you brought your head around to crash your lips onto his. 

Poe’s hand came up to cup the back of your head, strands of your hair slipping between his fingers. You cupped his cheek with one hand, the feeling of his lips finally on yours bringing back the familiar butterflies you’d been missing for weeks. 

You pulled away breathless, a laugh of disbelief slipping from your lips as he set you back down on the ground but keeping his arms tight around you. 

“How!?”

“Jessika snuck me in here after you left. That’s why she was late for dinner.”

Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a watery laugh. This was, by far, the best birthday present you’d ever gotten. Poe looked at you in concern. 

“Hey, are you ok?”

You nodded and gave him a sure smile. “I’m fine. Better now.”

Poe placed his hand on your cheek and brought your lips back to his in a short, sweet kiss. He then reached behind you to the cupcake off the counter, only removing his arm from around you long enough to re-light the candle. You smiled as you blew out the candle, taking a bite of the red velvet cupcake and getting another kiss from Poe to get the frosting off of your lips.  

“I got you something.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Poe said with a soft smile as he reached his hand into his pocket. “I did anyway.”

You set the cupcake down and he placed a tiny drawstring bag into your hand. You opened it and a silver bangle fell into your palm, a small hockey skate charm hanging off of it. You laughed as you ran your thumb across it. 

“Now I’ll have daily reminder of how badly I skate,” you laughed, looking up at Poe to see a humorous smile on his face. “I love it, thank you.”

Poe grabbed it from your hand and clasped it around your wrist, the tips of his fingers moving gracefully against your skin and sending goosebumps across your skin. You admired it as you rested your hand against Poe’s chest, his hands settling back onto your waist.

“So, I get you for the night huh?” You asked, your fingers running over the collar of his shirt. 

“The whole night. Whatever you want to do.”

“How long do I have you tomorrow?”

“Just until the morning. I’ve got a ton of grading to do you and you’re going to see your mom and sister.”

You sighed. “I could ditch them. Say I have homework or something.”

“I can’t have them hating me before they even meet me.”

You giggled and glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Twelve hours isn’t enough time.”

“I know,” Poe said, squeezing your waist and leaning down to kiss your cheek. “We better make the most of the time we have then.”

Placing a hand on his cheek, you brought Poe’s gaze to you. You gave him a small smile before leaning in and placing your lips on his. Your lips moved slowly together, every intention of your desire for him expressed in one simple action. His eyes were dark when you broke the kiss, studying your face as if deciding where he wanted to kiss you next. Stepping out of his embrace, you moved to the living room to turn off the lamp before holding out your hand. He took it, squeezing it gently as you led him to your bedroom. 

You undressed each other slowly, taking time to kiss or touch every new piece of skin exposed. Looking down at you with a hand on your lower back, he guided you back to your bed. His eyes were dark but he wasn’t looking at you like a predator hunting its prey; dare you say there was complete adoration sparkling behind his brown eyes. 

Poe kissed you once more before moving down your body, kisses being pressed wherever he could reach. His lips moved along the outline of your bra, nimble fingers circling behind you to take it off and throwing it aside. He suckled your breasts, tongue gently flicking against your hardened nubs and making you sigh in complete delight. He gave your breasts equal attention before moving down your stomach, the lightness of his lips tickling your stomach. 

Poe’s fingers dipped into the waistband of your underwear and his eyes connecting with yours looking for the ‘okay’. With a sure nod of your head, he tugged them down your legs and tossed them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His fingers curled around the bend of your knee, lips connecting to the spot next to your kneecap and moving upward. His lips ghosted up your thigh, breath hot against you and long eyelashes tickling your skin as his warm breath hit your slick folds. He pressed a kiss against you, a quiet gasp falling from your lips when his tongue ran along you up to your clit. Your hands flew to his hair, a quiet “fuck” mumbled breathlessly and you briefly wondered if it would be selfish of you to ask him to stay between your legs for the rest of the night. 

He grabbed one of the hands that was in his hair and brought it down to rest against your lower stomach, fingers tangling together as he held your hips still while he worked his tongue against you. He sucked your clit between his lips, a high-pitched whine escaping you as you squeezed his hand. 

“Poe, please…” Your voice was breathy, like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. A light tug on his hair made Poe move back up your body, leaving chaste kisses all over you until he hovered over you, chest pressed against yours and his cock nestled against the juncture of your legs. He brought your hands up next to your head, holding them down with light pressure. You breathed heavily, eyes raking over his face from the shine of your arousal on his lips and the slope of his nose to the crinkle of his eyes. “I need you.”

His dark hooded eyes took you in, the pink tint of your flushed skin and the way your lips were swollen from being consumed by his. He had completely melted you into a puddle. He let go of your hand to line himself up to your entrance, his eyes never leaving your face. You leaned up and brushed your lips over his as his forehead came down to rest against yours. He pushed inside you slowly, a quiet moan coming from your throat as he settled inside you. He held still to let you adjust around him, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” he whispered as he started to move, his hips rocking into you with a tenderness you hadn’t experienced with him before. A quiet gasp fell from your lips, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. Your arm escaped his grasp above your head to wrap itself around his neck. 

Poe brought his lips down to yours, swallowing every noise you made as he kissed you deeply and slowly, the pace of his thrusts deep and deliberate. His hands ran over your body, already familiar with every curve and every place that drove you wild. Poe connected his lips to your neck, gently sucking reminders of your night across your neck and collarbone. He drove his hips into yours, the movements deep and precise and you felt like he could push you straight through the mattress. 

If he did, you’d hold him tight and drag him down with you.

You put a hand on his chest and he stilled, looking down at you. You gave him a knowing smile as you pushed against him lightly. He smiled and wrapped his arms around you as started to sit up, sitting back and pulling you into his lap. Your hands rested on the side of his neck as you ground your hips against his, the new angle sending ripples of pleasure through your bodies. Soft moans left your lips as Poe guided you up and down his cock with his hands on your hips, his own sounds against your skin making you shiver. You threw your head back, whispered praises from Poe said against your chest. 

He met the movement of your hips, the angle making his cock brush against that spot inside you with each thrust. You clenched around him, the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach beginning to form. Poe kissed up from your chest to your neck, nuzzling his nose against it and letting his teeth gently scrape the outline of your pulse point. 

“Baby…” Poe formed the word against your skin, tears pricking your eyes at the affection behind it. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

Neither of you were going to last long but the amount you cared about it was very little. You wanted it to last, but you also craved the way he made you fall apart, and you knew it would be the first of many rounds that night. Poe claimed your mouth for the hundredth time that night, another kiss of many more to come, before kissing back down your neck to your shoulder. You held him close as you fell over the edge, your whole body trembling and the the rush of your orgasm almost making you cry from the flurry of emotions you felt at that moment. Poe grunted into your shoulder, his breath hot against you as he came, stilling his movements and holding your waist tightly as he spilled inside you.

You felt like you ceased to exist, as if you had come together in the throes of pleasure and become one. 

Neither of you spoke, both of you too afraid of blurting out your shared secret. So you kissed him. You let your lips say the words you were scared to say, but you felt them. Oh, did you feel them. Poe held you impossibly close, as though he could absorb every part of you and take you back with him. His fingertips ghosted up your spine and you rested your forehead against his, breathing the same air as the euphoric high settled into a dream like haze. 

You stayed in that position until you couldn’t, the call of the bed beneath you becoming too great to ignore. Poe laid back, bringing you with so you laid on top of his chest, completely relaxed and moving your head between resting your chin on his chest to look at him and laying your cheek against his beating heart. He stayed inside of you and stroked your hair, neither one of you in any hurry to move. 

You were mostly quiet, too busy basking in each others company to have in depth conversations. Any conversations you did have ended in laughter and the swapping of kisses, limbs tangled together as you held each other as close as you could. Once again, you and Poe fought off sleep as long as you could, dreading the coming of daybreak when you’d have to part until the next time you’d be able to see each other…whenever that would be. 

But you still had that night and while you couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words, you’d show Poe just how much you loved him over and over again. 

taglist [open!] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @galaxy-of-stories @seeking-a-great--perhaps @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @dameronsgalaxygal @mserynlarsen @yougottakeeponkeepinon @linibirdimagine @goddamndameron @starrykitn @cloud-leader @damnyoudameron @liadamerondjarin @april-14-blog @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol

[starlightinhumanform]

Seeing in Technicolor

Fandom: Sanders Sides 

Ship: Analoceit 

Summary: Logan and Virgil are used to having the living room to themselves by the ending of movie marathons. This time, however, they’re joined by Deceit who finds himself dragged into their weekly cuddle sessions.

Warnings (in order of strength): One Somewhat Non-Consensual Hug, (please tell me if anything needs to be added) 

Genre: Fluff (like seriously tooth-rotting, my pals) 

A/N: -In this fic, Virgil dated Deceit while he lived with the dark sides. After joining the light sides, he began dating Logan. -This switches occasionally from being Virgil-centric to being Logan-centric so both of their voices are included. Hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

As usual, Logan and Virgil found themselves the last ones up. The others had gone out in their usual order: Patton snuggled up against Roman’s legs, Roman finally giving in and staying quiet long enough to drift off, and Remus passed out behind the couch snoring loudly.

Staying up was kind of their thing. The others would fall asleep, giving Logan and Virgil the opportunity to scoot closer and closer until Logan inevitably found Virgil curled up in his lap, their arms and legs comfortably tangled together. (Virgil would always claim that technically Logan was not something that was meant to be sat on and, therefore, it was his way of relaxing).

What was new was Deceit.

He had been the last to join the group in their movie marathons, only joining them for the first time tonight, and he clearly didn’t know where he fit in. When he had first walked into the room, he had frozen, startled by the loud cheers from the others. It took him a few minutes of stuttering around the room before he had finally- and tentatively- sat down between Virgil and Logan on the couch.

Now he sat between them, body still tense like he was ready to run at any moment. He was hunched over his knees and his focus kept flickering away from the movie to glance at Virgil and Logan out of the corner of his eye.

Virgil recognized the similarities immediately- the rhythmic way Deceit tapped his fingertips together, how he kept holding his breath only to let it out in one purposefully quiet exhale, even the way he kept his arms and legs tucked neatly away so they didn’t touch anyone else. Deceit looked like him.

Virgil might embody Thomas’ anxiety, but right now Deceit was doing a better job of playing the role.

It especially reminded Virgil of when he had just started hanging out with the light sides. He had been completely unsure of where he was supposed to go and completely convinced that he didn’t belong there. The problem was obvious: Deceit was scared.

Virgil wished there was something he could do. If only there were some magic words he could say to put Deceit’s worries to rest. To just tell him Hey, you do belong with us and no, we don’t mind you and yes, we’re glad you’re here. He wanted to reach out and take all that tension from Deceit’s body. To let him know that he was safe.

But he couldn’t find the courage to do it, remembering the bitter ways he had reacted to the light sides’ friendliness at first. If any of them had shown him the sympathy or affection he wanted to give Deceit right now, he probably would have bitten their hand off before it could reach him.

Logan had noticed it too. Not that it was something too difficult to see. The discomfort in Deceit’s body language was painfully obvious. If Deceit could’ve compressed the space between his atoms to make himself smaller, he probably would have.

It was distracting, really. The anxiety radiating of Deceit was enough to draw even Logan’s attention away from the screen’s flickering colours and loud noises. Not to mention Deceit’s fidgeting, which had apparently decided to take up permanent residence in Logan’s peripheral vision.

Finally Logan sighed, tired of his attention being spilt and missing the familiar warmth of another side pressed up against him. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Deceit’s unsuspecting body, pulling backwards so Deceit was dragged into the couch cushions with him.

Deceit immediately yelped, waving his arms and trying to squirm out of Logan’s grip. By the time Logan hit the back of the couch, Deceit had stopped struggling, just frozen in Logan’s grasp. Every muscle in his body seemed to clench up once.

Even though Logan’s sudden movement had surprised Virgil, he was more concerned by just how terrified Deceit seemed. He was like a coiled spring, just waiting to be pushed past his breaking point- snap.

“Deceit- are you ok?” Virgil had never seen him look like this before.

Deceit’s wide eyes snapped to reach his, just the gaze of a scared animal. His chest started heaving and Virgil realized Deceit had stopped breathing for a second.

Logan let his arms relax and fall gently against Deceit’s stomach. With one hand he reached up and began combing Deceit’s bangs back from his forehead, “You really should relax.”

“What, what are you doing?” Deceit’s voice escaped him like the cracks and creaks of a haunted house.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Logan scrunched his eyebrows together, “I’m trying to help you relax; this usually works for Virgil.”

Virgil smirked, suddenly realizing that Logan’s abrupt (and somewhat startling) actions were his attempt at making Deceit feeling welcome. Logan had difficulty grasping the volume dial on affection- it was more of a simple on/off switch for him. Apparently Deceit had flipped the switch into On mode, “Hey, Logan, maybe you should let Dee go for now.”

“Oh. Certainly,” Logan couldn’t help but scowl slightly as he unwound he arms and released Deceit. He had been under the impression that physical affection was one on the most popular forms through which care could be displayed.

To both his and Virgil’s surprise, Deceit didn’t move far. He shifted until he was more centered between the two, but remained leaning back. His body was stiff and his eyes snapped from side to side, like he was waiting for one of the others to tell him he was doing something wrong. But he was there. Between them. And at least trying to join. Logan and Virgil blinked at each other across Deceit like Hey, I didn’t see that one coming.

For a second, nobody dared break the spell. Logan and Virgil were afraid that they’d breathe wrong and suddenly Deceit would be gone. Deceit sunk into the couch cushions as if he hoped to simply dissolve away.

The television filled the space between them. Neon mosaics painted across three faces. Flashes of colour reflected in three sets of glassy eyes. The scales on Deceit’s face seemed to drip with light as they reflected whatever movie Roman had chosen hours ago. Deceit’s expression was hard to place as it was painted by the ever-changing lighting. His wide eyes soaked in the saturated flashes from the film- warm brown turning into a kaleidoscope. A tiny pull on one side of his lips that was tugging them upwards. It was nearly impossible to see but it was something Virgil had learned to see in the years before. Hook, line, sinker. Virgil was in it all over again.

Logan was fixated. It was like he had been going to the same museum every single day and suddenly a new exhibit had been added with absolutely no warning and it just so happened to be one of the most beautiful pieces he had ever seen. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Awe? No, that’s too strong. Appreciation? Maybe. Affection was always a part of the equation; Logan had more respect for Deceit than probably any other side. Logan has a fondness for the way he liked to solve problems like a rationally thinking person (which just went to show how low the bar was) but Logan had never considered that the fondness could extend to Deceit himself. But looking down at Deceit- one usually stubborn and strong suddenly turned so small and vulnerable- there was a soft warmth filling up the empty spaces in his chest that was usually only reserved for Virgil. He couldn’t look away.

Finally Deceit’s voice broke the glaze that had settled over both of the others, “It actually wasn’t that bad?”

Virgil gave his head a shake, trying to remember what was going on, “What wasn’t?”

Deceit winced and pressed further into the couch cushions. Any hint of confidence disappeared, “Um, you know, uh-“

“This?” Virgil slid sideways and snaked his arm around Deceit, resting his chin on Deceit’s chest.

Deceit’s breath hitched, body tensing once again before softening into the hold, “Yeah. That.”

Virgil settled down further into the body below him, snuggling his chest flat against Deceit and resting his face against soft material of Deceit’s shirt. He was warm and Virgil liked the way Deceit’s slowly-steadying breath played against the loose strands of his hair.

He could feel Logan’s gaze settle across him and Deceit. A pang of worry hit him, wondering if Logan would be jealous or feel betrayed. Guilt seeped into the edges of his mind, distracting him from the steady, comfortable rhythm of Deceit’s chest rising and falling. Logan had been the one to reach out for Deceit first, but he also knew about Virgil and Deceit’s history.

“Hey!”

Logan’s voice pulled Virgil’s attention from where he had been staring at the meaningless movements on the screen. He was still siting up straight and looked comically insulted, a pout pulling at the ends of his mouth.

A laugh escaped Virgil as he stared up at Logan’s expression, relief washing over when it was obvious Logan wasn’t actually upset. Besides, the grumpy scrunch set of his mouth was nothing if not adorable.

Virgil gave him a lopsided smile from where he was still settled on Deceit, “Well you can join us.”

After a moment’s hesitation Logan leaned against Deceit’s other side. He wrapped one arm around Deceit’s shoulders and let other lie against Virgil’s arm.

All three turned their attention back to the movie, but Logan couldn’t see anything; he was far too concentrated on the thoughts flooding through his mind (systematically, of course).

So this wasn’t the usual arrangement. It was incredibly different, in fact. Deceit’s discomfort had been nearly tangible and it had been ruining Logan’s ability to pay attention to anything else. That’s why he had grabbed him- right? Obviously, he had felt some sort of sympathy for Deceit and held the understandable amount of affection one would for a companion. It hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary.

Now, transfixed by the two men curled next to him, he wasn’t so sure. The movie was still playing and he still wasn’t watching it. Deceit’s anxiety wasn’t distracting him anymore but Logan couldn’t look away.

Virgil held his distinct beauty- eyes sparkling and a smug grin replacing his usual scowl. It took Logan’s breath away every time. Tonight, though, Logan seemed to be having an especially hard time catching his breath.

He was pretty sure it had something to do with the way Deceit’s face had been slowly but surely transforming into a smirk. Maybe it was the way Deceit’s back was pressing into Logan’s chest so he could feel the other side’s heartbeat. Or maybe it was how Deceit placed his hand lightly on Logan’s leg. His hand barely touched his thigh, fingertips merely brushing. Deceit may have relaxed somewhat but he was still so different than what Logan was used to. He was so unsure, so defenseless. He had never looked like this before but, then again, maybe Logan just hadn’t ever looked at him this way before.

Logan stared down at the hand barely resting against his leg. Deceit was still wearing his gloves, having- like Logan- chosen to remain in his usual outfit. The touch was feather-light but it was still there, dragging his attention to focus on that and that alone.

Deceit apparently noticed Logan’s eyes boring into the back of his hand and quickly tried to jerk back, breathing out a yelp of a “sorry-sorry-sorry” as he did.

Logan reacted instinctively, slamming his own palm over Deceit’s hand before it could move too far. He immediately regretted the action. Virgil and Deceit were both blinking at him like a pair of disbelieving owls.

If “wince” was an emotion, Logan was definitely experiencing it. He was acting like a bumbling fool, as if all of Roman’s starstruck foolishness had combined with Virgil’s awkward impulsiveness to create... whatever this was.

Virgil began laughing, a genuine bark that was so loud, Logan began worrying it would wake the others. After a few seconds, Virgil gasped in a breath, “God, you nerds. And I was worried you two wouldn’t get along. I mean, Logan, should I be jealous? You were never this much of a mess for me.”

Logan could feel his brain freeze up at what Virgil was implying- that he felt the same things for Deceit that he did for Virgil. Well, there was some definite logic to it. But Virgil had ripped the bandaid off before Logan even had the chance to accept the fact he had a wound.  

“I, well, I- I don’t think,” Logan stuttered out words just so he could give something in the vague shape of a response. But what words to say? To deny it would be pointless but to confirm anything would lead to his figurative ruin.

He was sent reeling once again as Deceit twisted his hand so his palm faced upwards and smoothed the pad of his thumb against the top of Logan’s still clamped-down hand. Logan’s eyes never left that yellow glove as Deceit guided their hands upwards until their clasped hands sat between their two faces. Logan’s gaze flickered from his hand to Deceit’s sparkling eyes.

Deceit kept the eye contact steady- always questioning, but always smiling- as he pulled Logan’s hand forward, finally pressing his lips against the knuckles of Logan’s hand.

Logan sucked in a breath, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. He was being ridiculous and he knew it. He had an upfront approach to love and seemingly Deceit did too. But this was so different than Logan’s method. It was something about the way a thousand unsaid things floated in Deceit’s eyes, the way they searched Logan without ever moving.

A disgruntled sigh came from Virgil, “Excuse me, do you lovebirds need a room?”

Deceit let Logan’s hand fall from his lips, lacing their fingers together. He held Logan’s stare for a second longer as Virgil continued grumbling. Logan knew there was weight in the way Deceit looked at him, but it was in a measurement he could never translate.

Deceit turned away from Logan, dragging both of their attentions to Virgil snuggled into Deceit with a begrudging expression.

“-besides, I was here first. And that can be said for both of you-“

Virgil’s rambling was cut off as Deceit cupped his hand around Virgil’s chin, tilting his head up slightly. He leaned forward and placed his lips squarely over Virgil’s.

Virgil gave in, rolling his eyes and pressing his lips back against Deceit’s. He could feel Deceit smile, lips curling against his mouth. This felt right. He loved being with the light sides now but something had been lacking; finally all of the puzzle pieces clicked into places. The kiss deepened naturally, falling into the rhythm that had been so familiar to them at one point in time.

Virgil reached out, unclasping his hands from around Deceit’s back without breaking away. He stretched his arms until he found Logan. Virgil rested his hand against Logan’s chest, unconsciously lacing his tie through his fingers. He needed the contact; to say Hey I haven’t forgotten about you- I still love you. He needed the confirmation that Logan was still there. This all seemed too perfect. Virgil had always assumed he could only have one or the other- a life with dark sides or a life with the light sides, Logan’s care or Deceit’s affection. Virgil was sure one of them was going dissolve away at any moment.

But Logan’s heart was beating right beneath his palm. He could feel the warmth of his skin through the shirt’s material. And Deceit, he was real too- hand pressed against Virgil’s back and lips pressed even closer. Yeah, this felt right.

Deceit pulled away, eyebrow quirked, “Still needy for attention, I see-“

“Shut up,” Virgil shifted so he could grab Logan’s hand from Deceit’s shoulder and intertwined their finger’s together to lay on the top of the couch cushions. His other hand remained comfortably against Deceit’s chest.

For the first time since Deceit had joined them much earlier that evening, things were still. A calm settled over the room, the gentle breathing of the sleeping sides just barely audible beneath the sound of the movie. Deceit and Virgil turned their attention back to the screen. They were apparently quite comfortable with this new closeness between the three of them.

Logan, on the other hand, found himself wonderfully perplexed. This wasn’t the outcome he had been necessarily looking for and it certainly wasn’t something he could’ve possibly predicted. But Virgil looked more content than Logan had seen him in months. Deceit- god, Deceit- was practically glowing between them. Logan was confused as to how it had taken him to long to notice how beautiful Deceit was.

He didn’t want to break the tranquility but  some small, not-so-serious part of Logan was struggling to not clap his hands like a little kid who had just received a surprise. The emotions squirmed through him, making it hard to sit still.

“What are you smiling about?” Virgil was wearing a smug grin like he knew exactly why Logan was smiling.

“Be quiet and watch the movie,” Logan turned away slightly and tried to ignore the two pairs of sparkling eyes that he knew were watching him.

The rest of the movie ended uneventfully. Logan found the animation to be rudimentary, the music shrill, and the plot to have no consistency. But it was enjoyable. He especially appreciated how Virgil’s hand had migrated closer across the couch cushions to play through his hair and the way Deceit had burrowed snugly against his chest.

Finally, the screen faded to black, credits rolling to a close without another movie queued behind it. Tucked against Logan, Deceit seemed to be having a hard time keeping his eyes open. They would fall slowly only to flicker back open a second later.

Logan found himself watching the cycle for a minute before shaking his head and chuckling. He wasn’t even sure whose foolishness he was laughing at- his own strange transfixation or Deceit’s sorry attempt at resisting sleep.

He used his free hand to brush Deceit’s bangs back and smiled when Deceit responded by snuggling his head in closer, “Why don’t you just fall asleep?”

“I wanna stay awake,” Deceit grumbled.

“But there’s no movie left to watch,” Logan tried to assure him.

“Not awake for movie- wanna stay with you guys.”

Virgil grinned at the shocked look on Logan’s face, “Don’t let him get to you- he always gets sappy when he’s tired.”

Deceit raised his head to glare but between his ruffled hair and sleepy eyes it wasn’t that affective, “I’m not tired.”

Virgil rolled his eyes as Deceit stifled a yawn, “Liar.”

“That’s kind of my job.”

If Deceit’s statement of wanting to stay awake with them hadn’t melted Virgil’s heart, the pout Deceit was giving him now would have done the trick.

“Come on, Snake,” Virgil unwound his hand from Logan’s and wrapped his arms around Deceit’s chest, pulling him into his lap. Deceit tilted sideways without resistance and lifted his legs up lie over Logan.

Virgil scooted over into Logan’s waiting arms and sighed happily as the hold tightened around his shoulders. Virgil rubbed his hands idly along Deceit’s shoulders and twisted his neck to rest his chin on Logan’s collarbone.

He was content to stay there- maybe forever- just silently watching the way Logan’s eyes roamed over his face. Virgil couldn’t help but flush happily under the direct attention.

But Deceit was quickly drifting away and Virgil was still convinced that whatever this was could never coexist with reality. Thousands of worries floated through his mind but one question in particular kept rising to the surface-

“Logan, you’re- you’re alright with this, right? You usually don’t jump into things this quickly and we didn’t have a chance to talk about this at all. Well, honestly, I didn’t think any of this would happen so I guess we couldn’t really have talked about but still I want to make sure you’re comfortable with all of this and-“

“Virgil, dear, you’re rambling again,” Logan bent his head down until their foreheads met with a gentle bump, “Besides we don’t even know what ‘this’ is yet. I suggest we gather more observations and then calculate a decision when we are better able to do so.”

Virgil snorted, “You mean we should wait and see where it goes?”  

Logan darted forward, pecking Virgil on the lips before straightening up, “Yeah that’s exactly what I mean.”

Virgil felt a warmth seeping through his chest, burning hot. He wasn’t sure if it was result of his own affection or if it was just the warmth that radiated of Logan’s space-heater of a body. Maybe it was both. He wedged himself closer to Logan and smiled at the soft waves of drowsiness that were washing over him. Darkness soon took over his vision and only the sensation of comfort remained.

“So I can stay?”

Logan glanced past Virgil’s unconscious form at Deceit who blinked at him slowly with his reptilian eye. He shifted carefully so his back was flat against Virgil’s. His movements were unhurried and and his eyes remained half-lidded. Those eyes- still so full of questions, looking for answers, looking for safety. If Logan’s heart had the figurative strings that everyone spoke of, Deceit would have been playing them like a harp.

“Yeah. I think we’d both-,” Logan jerked his head gently to the side, indicating Virgil, “like that a lot.”

“Oh,” For a moment Deceit’s face wrinkled in confusion like he was having a hard translating Logan’s words. After a somewhat terrifying moment, his expression relaxed into a smile, “I think I’d like that too.”

Deceit curled up again, a tight little ball pressing into Logan’s lap. At his side, Virgil tucked himself tighter against his chest. Deceit’s breathing evened out, creating a soft counter rhythm to Virgil’s gentle snores. A few feet ahead, the DVD logo was bumping across the screen from side to side, casting a tiny blue spotlight over the room as it moved. Logan felt his eyes glazing over as he watched its hypnotizing movement. He could definitely get used to this.

If you want to join my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :p 

[fangirlshrewt97]

The Start of the Rest of Our Lives

Author(s): Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: Good Omens

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley

Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: No warnings apply.

Additional Tags: Fluff, Picnic, New Year's Eve, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Love Confessions, Getting Together

Summary: Crowley finally plans that picnic his angel proposed so many years ago, and hopes that everything works out according to plan.

(Spoilers: It actually works even better than he expected for once).

 For: @doomed-spectacles

 Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22054321

                                        ---------------------------

Crowley was trying his best not to vibrate himself out of the car as he trembled from nerves and excitement at the day he had been working towards for nearly three months now. Since the Not-Apocalypse, the demon had made full use of his freedom from Hell to spend as much time as he could with his angel without both of them having to look over their shoulders or make excuses to spend time together. He could confidently say these days had been some of the most satisfying days he has lived on Earth since here was posted here over 6000 years ago. 

Of course, there had been moments in history that were precious to him, and humans he had met he would carry in his (non-existent) demonic heart forever, but nothing and no one could top his angel. Since they had outwitted their former employers and were granted the liberty to live their lives mostly unsupervised (neither Heaven or Hell fired anyone, they were far too bureaucratic for that the two had learned when they each received a letter saying the former employers were expecting them to continue their duties, even if there would no longer be direct missions sent to them). This new arrangement (small A because this was not an important enough detail to deserve a capital A) suited the two perfectly, since because one, even if they had gone against their employers, the two had not actually minded doing their jobs (that they were both terrible at said jobs if one read the job description is a matter between them and themselves only). Two, it gave them the chance to “thwart” one another when they tried to pull off something ridiculous, and most importantly, it gave them the chance to still perform miracles on humans without worrying that it would draw their employers attention and bring them to their doorstep.

See the thing with having the cosmic power to defy every law of nature of the universe that non-ethereal or non-occult being is subjected to means that it builds up in you, and you need to let it out every once in a while. Otherwise it creates a feeling not unlike constipation, not that the angel or demon knew what that felt like. But go too long without performing miracles, or at least a large one periodically, and you get an uncomfortable pressure throughout the body as though, which is actually the magic trying to burst out of the mortal flesh. (Side note: There have been a couple of incidents involving non-ethereal and non-occult beings letting the feeling build-up until it was too much and consequently explode out of their mortal flesh into their true forms throughout history. These have been reported as anything from (accurate?) evidence of the existence of God to confirmation of the existence of extraterrestrial life on Earth (again, not entirely false since technically angels and demons are not of the Earth).

Ok, getting back to the story, where were we? Oh right, the demon Crowley was in his car on the way to the Bookshop (capitalized because there are a lot of bookshops in the world, but only one Bookshop. Important enough to deserve the capitalization). He had been planning a surprise for his Angel since the Not-Apocalypse as a way to celebrate, well, everything. Not dying, surviving an apocalypse, paying a surprising small price for having lost the Antichrist and completely screwed up the one job they had, humans being their most human selves, and the World. The World included not just the present physical planet with 7 billion humans and several more trillion animals and other living organisms. The World was the philosophical, and if you asked a certain Angel, the spiritual concept of a place filled with hope and goodness, alongside evil and greed and lust and all the other deadly Sins. It was a place that created wonderful artists, a place filled to the brim with people who if they were called on to help, would help a stranger just because they were in a position to. Humans were created in Her image, but in Crowley’s opinion, they excelled even Her expectations when they chose to be kind. It wasn’t always, hell could attest to the amount of humans who were depraved and evil, and those who just made their short lives even harder for their fellow men. But when it truly counted, humans could also be capable of the most astonishing acts of kindness.

So yes, these were things all worth celebrating. Grated celebrating them closer to the date would probably have been more appropriate, but it hadn’t occurred to the demon at that point. But tonight was December 31, and the humans were gearing up to celebrate the start of a new year, and a new decade. He had been inspired by all the different lists and podcasts, and other various decorations that had been popping around London in preparation for the event. Well, that isn’t fully accurate, but it works for the story.

All of that had resulted in him working to make a special event for this angel so they could usher in this new year in a special way alongside their humans. As 6000 year old creatures, time ran differently for them, and neither put much value in celebrating these measly transitions in time that the humans insisted were important. Also hard to take the new year celebrations so seriously when you have lived through so many different calendar systems, including pre-Gregorian calendars.

He pulled into his spot in front of the shop , hitting the brakes a little to late and nearly driving over the curb and hitting the pedestrian on the crosswalk who shouted at him and gave him the middle finger. Crowley waved him away and snapped his fingers to make sure the Bently was parked correctly before exiting the vehicle. The shop’s door showed a ‘Closed’ sign as always, but that sign never applied to him. He snapped his fingers and walked through the newly opened doors, calling out to his Angel.

“Aziraphale! Where are you?”

“Just a second my dear, I will be right out!” came a muffled reply from upstairs on the second floor.

Shrugging, Crowley sauntered on to his normal sofa and sank down on the seat, spreading his legs and lounging comfortably. He was trying to subtly take deep breaths so he didn’t give himself away too quickly to the angel. If he ruined the surprise now, he would never forgive himself.

“Ahh Crowley, there you are. How are you doing?” Aziraphale asked as he rounded the corner and made his way to the loveseat opposite the demon.

“Ehh, same as always. Listen, do you have any plans for today?”

“Today? I don’t think so, why?”

“Well today is New Year’s eve.”

“Oh! Oh look at that, it is! I had noticed the decorations going up but completely missed the date! Oh how wonderful Crowley.”

“Yes, yes it is great and everything, but look, well…” And then Crowley got stuck. See he had this whole plan in his head about how he was going to be so smooth, how he was going to sweet talk the angel into coming with him on a drive to the countryside, how they were going to have that picnic that Aziraphale had proposed all those years ago. But now, when the time came to actually get the words out, he felt them stop and choke him. There were so many things that could go wrong. What had he been thinking? What if the angel said no? Just because they were good friends and spending so much time together did not necessarily mean the Angel would just go along with all his schemes. What if he thought it was a scheme? And that Crowley was trying to get something from him? Oh Go- Sat- Someone, what if Aziraphale thought Crowley was crazy for doing this?

He was brought out of his panic spiral at a soft touch to his forearm. He blinked a couple times and startled to see that the Angel had moved to hover nervously over him. “Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, and his tone suggested this was not the first time he had called out to him.

“I um-”

“Dear what happened? You were saying something and you froze…”

“I…” Damn it, he hadn’t even gotten the question out and he had already ruined the evening!

“You?”

Crowley wanted to yell, or bite his tongue, or at least give his head a good slam against the wall. He was an idiot. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Just ask the angel the question. And if the worst case scenario happens, well then, go home and lick his wounds. And possibly sleep through the next week, or month maybe. He hadn’t had a proper long nap in years.

“IwasthinkingwecouldgoforadriveoutofLondontoescapeallthehumanssinceIknowyouaren’tthebiggestfanofalltherackettheymakeatmidnight.” Was what ended up spilling out his mouth in a single exhale. Fucking hell, he wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole already.

“What?” Aziraphale asked as his face shifted from worry to confusion, and he backed away to stand straight. Crowley instantly missed the delicious warmth of the angel from the point of contact that he hadn’t even noticed until it was missing.

Taking a deep breath, Crowley tried again. “I said, I was thinking we could go for a drive out of London to escape all the humans since I know you aren’t the biggest fan of all the racket they make at midnight. The countryside will be a lot quieter since there will be less people, and if we leave now, we might even get out of London before sunset.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale exclaimed before looking around as if considering his decision. He only looked away for a few seconds before a satisfied smile settled on his lips, making Crowley’s heart thunder. “You know what, I think that is an absolutely splendid idea. Give me 10 minutes to get ready alright.”

The thundering was so loud, Crowley could barely hear him. “Whatever you need ‘Ziraphale.”

Go-Sat-Someone help him, a smile should not be able to be so bright, Crowley thought.

His hands had started to shake again, and he used the time to take deep breaths and get his nerves under control again. Ok, everything was going well. The angel didn’t hate him, and he was even looking forward to this. Part 1 of the plan was a success. On to Part 2.

As promised, Aziraphale was ready to leave in 10 minutes, and the angel and demon exited the Bookshop and entered the Bentley. As soon as they started driving away from the shop, the car’s radio crackled to life and Queen started to blare through the speakers. Crowley turned it down a couple notches so that they could still talk, and zig-zagged his way through London’s traffic, using a minor miracle to get out of the city.

His hands tightened on the wheel and he accelerated even more when they got to the M25, memories of the ring of fire, and subsequent drive still relatively fresh on his mind. As such, they were out of the city fast enough, and they sped through the English countryside in peaceful quiet. It was a quiet neither was particularly used to, and cherished all the more for it. Quiet moments were usually always filled with anticipation or tension, fear of being caught saying something they weren’t supposed to or getting caught exchanging glances that might reveal too much. So peaceful quiets were actually a relatively new occurrence between the two, silences where they were allowed to just bask in the comfort of their companion and enjoy living life not looking over both their shoulders.

At one point, Aziraphale cranked the window on his side down a bit, letting the faintest of breezes flow through the car, and they would almost swear they could smell the earth preparing itself for a new year, it was so full of promise for a new beginning. He leaned against his door, allowing himself to drop his usually rigid posture, and enjoyed the view as their chosen country zoomed past him. Glancing to his right quickly, he ducked his head as a desire suddenly overtook him, making his blush.

“Everything alright angel?” Crowley murmured, not wanting to break the delicate quiet.

“Um yes, everything is perfect my dear.” Aziraphale said hurriedly, not wanting to get caught.

The demon hummed but it was with a note of disbelief.

Biting his lip, Aziraphale looked to the sky before deciding to make a brave choice himself, and he reached out to tentatively set his hand on top of the demon’s hand on the gear stick. He heard rather than saw the sharp gasp from the demon, and felt the hand below his twitch for a second. Afraid he had a made a mistake, he moved to take his hand away, but was quickly stopped when said hand gripped his wrist. He turned to look at Crowley, but he was still looking at the road, and anyways his eyes were hidden beneath his sunglasses, making it impossible to tell what was going on in those beautifully expressive eyes of his.

Without saying anything, Crowley twisted his hand to twist his fingers through Aziraphale’s and settled their joined hands over the gear stick. His face twitched slightly but he gave nothing away as he kept looking forward but Aziraphale would swear the demon’s face and ears were slightly redder than before.

Aziraphale’s own lips twitched into a satisfied smile, and he leaned back in his seat to keep looking at the view, heart beating happily as he fought to not smile like a maniac.

They had been driving for nearly two hours when Crowley finally pulled up his car in the middle of seemingly nowhere. He didn’t say anything as he parked the car, but they both stifled a small noise when he had to untangle their joined hands to get out of the car. Aziraphale followed him out, and saw that they were in a hilly area, and the closest sign of humans was a small cottage building barely visible from where he stood.

“Where are we exactly Crowley?” The angel asked, more out of curiosity than because it really mattered. Anywhere that had the demon in it was a good place as far as he was concerned. Even crowded London.

“It’s a surprise angel. Come on, we need to hike a little bit.” Crowley said as he came around to his side, a basket in his hands that was not there previously. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at him, but Crowley just shrugged helplessly at him. Aziraphale settled for his normal smile and nodded his head once, gesturing for the demon to lead the way. The demon started walking ahead before slowing down, and glancing at his hands hesitatingly.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked as he stood close enough to brush shoulders with him. The demon took a fortifying breath, and blushed fiercely as Aziraphale felt fingers coming to entwine with his. A glimpse downward made the angel’s breath hitch as he saw they were holding hands, and that happy feeling from before returned 10 times stronger than before. Despite the cold air, the gesture made Aziraphale feel warmed from the inside out. He smiled widely as Crowley, and felt it widen even more as he saw the demon blush even redder, face twisted in embarrassment. He decided not to say anything, best not to tease the already embarrassed demon. He gave their hands a squeeze, and could make out the demon’s shoulders tensing slightly before relaxing completely.

Coughing slightly, the demon started to walk, and led the angel up a couple of hills till they made it to the peak of what was probably the tallest hill in their radius. Aziraphale’s eyes widened as he took in the view. It was sunset, and the sky was painted in the most wonderful colors. The air was crisp at this height, and so far from human civilization, it felt like they had been thrown back through the ages to a time before the humans had conquered the world.

“Oh Crowley, how precious…” he mumbled as he moved forward to look around.

“I thought you might like it…” Crowley mumbled back as he shifted his weight from one leg to another. He removed his hand from Aziraphale’s and when the angel turned to look at him, saw him walking slightly away to place the basket on the ground. From it, he pulled out a red and black chequered blanket that he spread out on the grass. He reached back into the basket and started pulling out all types of foods, those vegetable sandwiches from the shop near Mayfair, mince meat pies that smelled exactly like those they had shared at a gala a couple centuries ago, a plate of apple slices, cake from his favorite bakery, a bread basket, champagne, red wine, white wine.

As the realization of what was happening settled, Aziraphale felt some tears prick his eyes, and turned quickly to discreetly wipe them with his handkerchief. It wouldn’t do for Crowley to catch him weeping and think he had done something wrong. As if he could. Oh how long had the angel loved this demon in ways he should never have been able to. Yes the night of the church bombing had made the feelings impossible to deny to himself any longer, but he had loved the demon a lot longer than he suspected even he knew.

And how could he not. Loving Crowley was a constant in his life for so long now, he could hardly remember a time before he did when he looked back at the past. His kind, gentle demon, who was so good with children, and wanted to save and help and save as many as he could despite being a demon. The one who never denied him anything, who gave him anything he wanted, who fulfilled any request he made. Just like now. A picnic.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, and the angel blinked quickly to clear up his eyes and turned to look at him. The demon was standing next to the blanket, looking like an impossible mix of trying not to care and an anxious mess, sunglasses off so he could see those golden eyes he loved so. “You said we should have a picnic. I know it took about 5 or 6 decades, but would you please join me for one now?”

Aziraphale felt tears flood his eyes again, and burst out laughing as Crowley’s eyes widened in panic. The demon flailed briefly before coming right beside him. “No no angel, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, I am sorry this was a stupid idea, I can drive you back to London if you want-”

Aziraphale shut the demon’s rant but pulling him to his chest, taking the demon in his arms as he had longed to for so long. The demon inhaled sharply and stood stiffly in his arms for a good while before slowly, tentatively bringing his own arms to encircle the angel. When he saw no rebuke, he tighten his arms. The two held on tightly to each other, a silent confession of a love 6000 years in the making. By the time Aziraphale shifted enough to loosen his hold, the sun had set and the moon was casting a low glow over the whole area.

Feeling just a bit like a bastard, he held out his fingers and pulled them down. “Let there be light!”

“Argh, Angel!” Crowley growled at the sudden increase in brightness.

But Aziraphale was smiling his most innocent smile, the utter bastard, damn Crowley loved him so much.

“If we are to have all that delicious food my dear, we should be able to see it.”

“I know there aren’t that many humans around but that doesn’t mean they can’t pop up, and I for one have no desire to miracle away memories of the poor wanker that stumbles on us.”

“Well what do you propose then?” Aziraphale asked, eyebrow arched.

Crowley turned and walked back to the blanket in lieu of a reply and pulled out some candles which he proceeded to light and set around the blanket, but far enough away they wouldn’t accidentally set anything on fire. When he was done, he nodded at Aziraphale’s light. The angel conceded and snapped his fingers, casting them in a romantic glow of just the candles. The stars above them seemed to twinkle brighter, and the moonlight seemed softer.

The angel moved to sit next to Crowley, crossing his legs underneath him as he looked over at the feast his demon had prepared.

“How long did you take to plan all this my dear?” Aziraphale asked softly.

Crowley ran a hand through his hand as he murmured an inaudible answer. The angel chuckled softly and placed a warm palm over the demon’s closest thigh, and moved to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Crowley whipped his head to quickly the angel was concerned he gave himself whiplash. But the new position meant the two were sharing their breath, closer than they had ever been in life. When Crowley’s eyes darted down to his mouth, Aziraphale decided to be brave again, and moved to press his lips lightly to the demon’s. The demon gave another sharp gasp before moving one of his hands to cup Aziraphale’s cheek, deepening the kiss just so.

When they parted, they just looked at each other, love reflected to freely in both their eyes, hearts beating in sync as they felt the world tilt into a softer perspective.

“Thank you dearheart.” Aziraphale whispered, straightening his spine just slightly to rest his forehead on Crowley’s.

“Anything for you Angel. Always.” Crowley whispered back.

Aziraphale was the first to move, shifting to sit back down again, and pulled one of the plates to his lap. “This all looks delicious Crowley.”

The demon shrugged, trying to appear careless again, not that the angel didn’t see through it completely.

The two of them made their way through the feast, pace unhurried, they had the rest of eternity to look forward to and it looked more wonderful than it ever had. And as they kept sitting on that hill, the felt the stars start to almost twinkle brighter, and they shared another kiss when the first firework lit up the peaceful night sky.

It truly was the beginning of a new era.

How wonderful.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Only For A Moment Ch. 40

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Fluff. All the sweet tooth-rotting Christmas fluff. 

A/N: Look. I know it’s October but I hope y’all can tolerate this early Christmas gift. These two 100 % deserved some tender Christmas moments after everything don’t you think?

Tags are open!

The last six months had felt endless but the last six weeks were a blur.

Somehow, every morning, he woke up and you were there in his arms. Every day, even the bad ones, he felt the comforting touch of your hand. Most days, he heard your laugh and the ones where he didn’t he was lucky to be there to dry your tears.

He did, despite everything, feel lucky. Every time you caught him staring at you, a little blush rising to your cheeks he felt it—every time you let him touch you, wanted him to touch you, he felt it. Bucky still struggled to wrap his mind around that feeling. To be lucky, after all this time. To be… loved.

Whether it was the passage of time or your presence in his world, he was remembering more and more every day too. It also meant feeling more though and there were times he hated it, times he almost longed to be empty again. It seemed easier than this aching.

Walking down the cold Bucharest streets—filled with happy tourists and locals, lit with Christmas lights strung from anything that would stand still—was one of those times.

All he could think was how his sisters and ma would have loved this. Or… well, the sisters he remembered would love this. The kids who loved Christmas, who couldn’t wait to go ice skating or for the first snow—he’d never know what the women they became would like.

Tears sting his eyes before he pushes the emotions away. It didn’t do any good to dwell on what he’d never know when there was so much he was still trying to remember. Best to focus on the now.

Right now, he was out to get your afternoon coffee.

You’d been watching Mr. Goldstein’s shop while he visited family for Hanukah, even before though you’d been spending some time most every day in the cozy place. Bucky had made a habit of bringing you coffee at least once a day. It made you smile and it was a good excuse to check-in.

Typically he brings you something simple from a local shop but today he wants to get you something special. He’d teased you when you’d groaned in longing after seeing a sign for some peppermint concoction at Starbucks, it sounded disgusting to him—peppermint decidedly did not belong in coffee, but he didn’t have to agree to surprise you.

As he stares at the Starbucks, teeming with bodies, he almost decides against this. He’d been better at crowds recently, you both had, but that was together.

“It’s just a coffee shop, Barnes,” he grumbles to himself. “Get it together.” With that, he takes a deep breath and dives in. It takes nearly a half-hour and what feels like a few years off of his overextended life to get two drinks.

Once outside he takes a few huge gulps of crisp air to try and calm the chaos in his chest. Unfortunately, it does the opposite. The icy cold of the air filling his lungs sends flashes of cryo slicing through his consciousness.

Not real, he tells himself. That’s not real. Not now.

With effort he forces himself to focus on what is real. The smell of the chocolate and peppermint rising from your coffee cup, the sound of the traffic, the laugh of a group of people somewhere to his left, the heat from the coffees slowly seeping through his gloves.

Slowly he opens his eyes. They don’t betray him, revealing only a bustling Bucharest afternoon. Huffing in relief he pulls his scarf over his nose and mouth, wanting to feel as little of the cold against his skin as possible before he heads toward the bookstore.

The now-familiar bell above the door tingles in welcome. You’re not behind the counter, instead, he’s greeted by Victor’s demanding meow.

“Hey, pal.” Gently he scratches under the large orange cat’s chin, earning a loud purr.

There are a few people milling about, Bucky can hear your softly accented Romanian from the children’s section. He peeks around the corner to see you kneeling next to a little boy, advising him on his selection.

You seem to sense his gaze and look up, your beautiful eyes lighting with a smile. Just seeing you chased away the coldness and anxiety that had crept in. He nods and turns to the counter, setting his backpack down, leaving you with your littlest customer.

Sipping his coffee he takes in the other patrons. Assessing people was second nature to him now. They all appear to be just average folks, out doing a little holiday shopping. It doesn’t allow him to let his guard down but it does feel good to know there’s likely no threat nearby at the moment.

Victor stretches languidly as soon as Bucky takes a seat on the stool, his warm lap clearly a preferable bed to the papers on the countertop. As the cat moves he can’t help but see what the feline had been hiding. On various scrap pieces of paper and unwanted receipts are sketches of figures, doodles, a few more detailed drawings of clothing pieces.

Steve would leave similar things around their apartment. Sketches and art supplies littered everywhere, to find Steve you could practically follow the trail. He remembers… one Christmas Steve drew Bucky’s Ma a portrait of him and the girls. Ma had loved it but when she saw that Steve wasn’t in it too she made him put himself in it before getting it framed.

Quickly Bucky reaches into his bag, disturbing Victor in the process. The cat throws him a sideways glance, making his way to the back room. He’d bring him some tuna tomorrow to make up for this egregious offense, but this was a memory he didn’t want to risk forgetting.

After a few minutes, your warm hand settles tenderly between his hunched shoulders. He still shivers with pleasure a little every time you touch him.

“Hey,” your voice is low, lips curled into a soft smile. He wished he could kiss you, the thought distracting him from realizing there are customers approaching the counter.

“Sorry!” He hops up to move away, slightly embarrassed.

You tick up an eyebrow, “Yes, I expect a full written apology for daring to sit here.”

He rolls his eyes, smiling despite himself.

“I wanna pay!” The little boy you’d been helping demands, looking up at his mother, a clearly pregnant young woman.

“Ok, ok,” she laughs handing him a few bills.

“You made a good choice,” you tell him. “I bet your new little sister will love this.”

“Yeah!” He beams with pride as you hand him his change and the book he so carefully chose. His mother thanks you and they head out.

Bucky picks up your cup to distract him from the tightness in his chest, “Here.”

You eye the Starbucks cup before taking a sip. A giggle bursts from your lips causing concern to bloom. “Is it the right one? It was the only peppermint thing they had.”

“It’s perfect. You just swore it was an abomination so I’m surprised.” You take another deep drink, “Thank you.” Behind the counter, you give his thigh a squeeze.

The three other people make their selections and cash out within the next 10 minutes. In that time Bucky makes his way about the shop, making sure things are in relative order so you can leave faster.

Once you’ve locked the door and pulled the shades over the large window he immediately tugs you to him, hungry for your kiss. Instead of feeling your soft lips, he’s met the cardboard of your coffee cup.

“You can kiss me only after you try this.” You give him a mischievous smirk.

“That is far too high a price,” he tries to snake his head around the obstacle.

“Nope,” you scoot to the side, holding the cup between you. “No sip, no kiss, for… 24 hours.”

“Ya know, I feel like I’m being punished here.” Obstinately he crosses his arms.

“Your call.” You flit your tongue out to wet your full bottom lip, clearly teasing him.

“You drive a hard bargain, woman.” Begrudgingly he plucks the cup from your hand and takes a sip. Damn. As much as he wanted to hate it he had to admit that it was very good, a little sweet maybe but hey, it was Christmas.

“So?” You eye him expectantly. Rather than answer he takes another drink, this one much larger than the last. “Hey! That’s mine.”

He holds it above your grasp, “This is your fault. You insisted I try it.” When he goes to drink it again nothing comes out. There’s still plenty in the cup but the liquid doesn’t budge. You’re holding up your right index finger, directing just enough of your power to the coffee to keep it from moving.

Behind you, his own cup hovers in the air, tilting bit by bit on its side. “Put the peppermint mocha down and no one gets hurt,” you say with mock severity.

“No need to get crazy.” Holding his right hand up in surrender he sets your cup down, his follows suit.

“Smart man.”

“Sometimes.” Unable to wait a moment more he kisses you until you’re both breathless—everything in him going quiet.

You make a satisfying sound before patting him on the chest and pulling back. “I gotta close up.”

“Mmm,” he hums, leaning in to nibble your neck.

“Bucky…” He grabs your ass with both hands. “Not in front of the cat.” He pauses, looking down at an indignant Victor. You both stare at the cat for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Wow, way to ruin the moment, pal.” Victor lets out a loud meow before winding his way through both your legs. With a sigh Bucky leans down, gathering the orange beast in his arms. Immediately he’s gifted with loud contented purrs.

You smile at them both tenderly, “You’re cute.” Lifting off the ground a touch you kiss his cheek.

“Will you feed him while I get things ready to go?”

“Sure. Let’s get you some grub buzzkill.” Victor meows in approval.

The sun is just peeking above the horizon when you turn the key in the lock of the shop.

He wishes he could hold your hand, keep the warmth of you close, as you make your way home but with you still in what you call your ‘street drag’ it’s best you don’t. There’s no need to draw undue attention to yourselves. Even so, you walk as close to one another as possible.

The route home runs by the main area of the Christmas Market. You pause, taking in the lights sparkling in the growing dark.

“Wanna walk through it?”

He hates to deny you anything but the thought of this makes his stomach drop. “Uh, if you really want to.” Absently he scratches under his scarf.

“Another night. Let’s get you warm.” He smiles at you, thankful you think it’s just his dislike of the cold keeping him from wanting to be among all those happy families.

Always a woman of your word you do get him warm, in every imaginable way—your body against his, a hot delicious meal, even hot cider. Even so, as he holds you in his arms that night, he can’t shake the sadness.

-

The closer to Christmas it gets the darker Bucky’s mood seems to become.

He doesn’t have to tell you for you to understand. You’d never really had the ideal All American Christmas experience but you suspect he had sweet memories of the holiday, likely quite a few he was still struggling to remember. It must make the loss worse.

You try to avoid the topic. There’s no talk of gifts or anything like that. Unfortunately, the city is practically a winter wonderland which doesn’t help. Still, you do your best to steer clear of the more festive areas.

“Will you and Grant be celebrating the holiday with family?” Mr. Goldstein asks as you open up the shop on the 22nd.

“We… don’t really have much in the way of families.” It was better than saying that they were all dead but was a bit of a conversation killer nonetheless.

“Ah.” He groans a little as he takes his spot behind the counter. “Will this be your first Christmas then.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he’s not really, uh, feeling it.”

Mr. Goldstein nods knowingly, “It’s hard to move forward. When my wife passed it felt like we’d never celebrate the same, but the kids and I made new traditions. I’m sure you two will as well.”

Your hands freeze before shelving a book. He was right. True, your childhood hadn’t had many great holiday memories but hadn’t you made plenty of wonderful ones with friends? Why couldn’t you and Bucky do the same?

“Can I ask a favor?” You turn to him, breath held.

“Of course, zeeskeit.”

“Could I borrow your car?”

The morning of the 24th you make your last trip to the farmhouse.

Over the last few days you’d been bringing back ornaments, lights, a tree, only the good holiday movies, basically all the Christmastime necessities you could think of. Now you were finishing up with enough food and coffee to fuel a small army. Mr. Goldstein, being fully in on the plan, had even been pulling books he thought you’d both like so you had plenty of reading materials.

You only had a couple of hours to get everything perfect. If Bucky showed up to the shop before you got back he’d be suspicious.

“Get it all handled?” Mr. Goldstein asks with a grin when you rush back into the shop.

“Yup!” Your face hurts a little from smiling.

“Well,” he tosses the car keys you’d just given him back at you, “what’re you still doing here?”

“What?” You stare at the keys then him.

“It may snow. I don’t want you kids on that bike.” He smiles at you and you can’t help but fling your arms around this gentle soul.

He lets out a good-natured laugh, “Not like I’m going to need it.” With large warm hands, he pushes you back, “Go on. You two have a Happy Christmas.”

“Thank you!” You yell over your shoulder as you run out.

When you walk into the apartment a couple hours early Bucky jumps up from the couch, concern written all over him.

“What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing,” you say smiling. “It’s Christmas Eve. Mr. G kicked me out a little early.”

“Oh.” He forks his fingers through his hair, “I coulda come by and walked you back.”

Taking his face in your chilly hands you kiss him deeply. “No need.” Looking into his eyes always overwhelmed you, “I love you Bucky Barnes, all of you.”

That earned you a smile, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

“Now,” you playfully pat his ass before heading to the closet to grab his duffel, tossing it to him. “Pack a bag.”

Dumbstruck he stares at the bag for a moment, “What?”

“Pack. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

“We do?” He still doesn’t move, “Where?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you.” Grabbing your own bag you begin shoveling sweaters inside. Looking over your shoulder he still hasn’t moved.

“Bucky?” He looks out of sorts, “Babe, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” he looks down at the bag, “yeah. I just thought… Well, I thought we’d have Christmas tomorrow… maybe.”

“I thought you weren’t into the season?” It takes everything you’ve got to not spill the beans with your heart turning to mush in your chest.

“I…” He wrings the bag in his hands. “I don’t know.” Biting your lip to keep your mouth shut you rush over to him, wrapping him up as he drops the bag.

He cocks a crooked smile, “I got you something. Not… It’s not much but…”

You cover his face with kisses making him laugh in confusion. “What’s that about?” He plants a kiss of his own on your lips.

“I just like you is all.” You bend down grabbing his duffel, “Why don’t you just let me take the lead and put your gift in here, promise I won’t look.”

With the car loaded you head out of the city.

“The farmhouse?” He looks at the dark building, then back to you.

“Can I trust you to wait here until I come get you?” His eyes narrow a bit. “Please,” you coo sweetly.

“I’m scared to see what you’re up to woman,” he smiles. “Fine.” He crosses his arms a smile at the corners of his mouth as you bolt from the car.

First off, you methodically handle the traps and alarms then kick on the generator. You’d wanted to put lights on the outside of the house but decided it was best to not, a safe house wasn’t very safe if it was glowing like a beacon. Instead, you focused your efforts inside.

Colored lights joined the white ones Bucky had draped to light the space previously. Over the mantle, you’d draped evergreen garland and two stockings were laid on the kitchen table to be put in their place later. In the corner to the left of the fireplace, a decent tree waited patiently for decorations. The mattress, still in front of the fireplace, had been piled high with blankets and pillows you’d purchased and thrifted to make a warm nest for you both.

You turn on the space heaters and light the fire you’d laid earlier that day. Before heading out to get him you hit play on the old battery-operated boombox you’d brought. Perry Como’s “No Place Like Home for The Holidays” fills the silence. It wasn’t much, but you hoped it would make him happy.

Stepping out onto the porch you quickly close the door behind you. He sees you and gets out of the car.

“Want me to grab the bags?” He asks.

“Sure.” You shrug trying to seem casual. He trudges up the steps with three bags in hand. Once on the porch, he pauses, head cocked listening.

“Y/N… what’re you-” Not letting him finish you open the door, stepping inside, arms spread wide.

Bucky’s jaw hangs open as he crosses the threshold, the bags clattering to the floor. Without looking back he kicks the door closed, wide eyes taking in the space.

“Merry Christmas,” you say softly. Hardly seeing him move, he scoops you into his arms, lifting you from the floor kissing you thoroughly.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much.”

Raking your fingers through his hair you study his expression. While his eyes glitter with tears his smile is warm enough to chase the lingering cold from the space. How was it possible to love someone this much?

You press your lips to his forehead, “Come on. That tree isn’t gonna decorate itself.”

Bucky lights the fire in the oven and you make cocoa with plenty of marshmallows and crushed peppermint before tackling the tree.

As you unwind the lights and plug them in, he pauses, seeming to be fascinated by the colored bulbs before he lets out a little laugh. He delicately lifts one of the large glass drops with a metal index finger and thumb.

“What is it?” You rest your hand on his forearm looking up at him.

“I… I remember the first time we had lights on the tree.”

“Really? Was it a big deal?”

Looking at your mildly confused expression he laughs, “I’m old as hell, remember?” You roll your eyes. “But yeah, it was a big deal.” He pauses, eyes focused on the lights.

“Pa almost didn’t get ��em but Ma really wanted them so he gave in. We thought it was somethin’ special. Steve and his Ma came. My Ma made gingerbread…” He trails off and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“You should write that down.” You reach out to take the lights from him.

“Yeah,” his voice cracks a bit handing them over.

He grabs the right notebook from his bag and you curl up beside him on the old couch, your heart feeling like that animation in the Grinch.

And Y/N’s heart grew three sizes that day, you think to yourself.

When he’s done he reaches over, pulling you into his chest, burying his nose in your hair.

“Tell me more about what Christmas was like for you… before.”

“I can tell you and decorate at the same time,” he kisses you briefly and tugs you from the couch.

He does. Bit by bit you decorate the tree, bit by bit he pulls pieces of himself back from the void. Each time he grasps something that he’d lost the decorating would pause so he could document it. After almost two hours everything is done but the star.

“I feel like you should do the honors, doll.” Reverently he hands you the slightly tacky thrift store star.

“Why, you can reach it easily?”

“Like you can’t?” He cocks a brow, smiling.

“Point.” You take the star and rise from the floor, coaxing your body horizontal so you can get the best angle on securing the tinsel covered thing to the treetop. Once it’s done you sink back down. Before your feet touch the ground he pulls your back to his chest, nuzzling your neck.

“My very own Christmas angel. How lucky am I?”

You laugh, tossing your head back to kiss his cheek, “Don’t know that I’ve ever been called an angel in my life.”

Sighing contentedly you look at the tree. “That’s a damn fine tree.”

“Almost.” He releases you and digs in his bag, pulling out two nicely wrapped gifts and setting them under the tree. “That’s better.”

“Two?! Bucky…”

“Don’t give me too much credit, they go together.”

Narrowing your eyes at him you send your power out to nab the gift you had for him. His wrapping job puts yours to shame.

“Y/N… didn’t you do enough?” He gestures around.

“Hey, all of this is mutually beneficial.” He shakes his head with a smile. “Besides, it’s small.”

“So,” he asks slipping his hand in yours as you both take in your handy work, “were you a Christmas presents in the morning or on Christmas Eve type?” Your joy falters for a moment, not wanting to make things awkward for him but not wanting to lie either.

“Well, umm…” You shift uncomfortably, “If we did presents, it just depended on my mom’s mood or what her boyfriend wanted.” Truthfully, most Christmases growing up didn’t involve presents. Those were for good kids.

“But Nix and I would do presents on Christmas morning.” A smile rises to your face even though your heart aches.

“One year we had our close friends stay the night Christmas Eve. He and I dressed up like a mom and dad from the ’50s and bought a ton of terrible thrift store toys for like $15, wrapped ‘em, and put them under the tree then woke up the ‘kids.’” You laugh at the ridiculousness, “They had no idea what was going on but still played along. We had the best time.” The lights of the tree blur a little from the tears in your eyes.

“We’ll do them in the morning then.” When you look up at him his expression is tender and understanding. You nuzzle into his chest, breathing in his spicy smell.

The two of you spend the rest of the evening and night eating junk, sharing stories, and getting him caught up on some of the necessary Christmas films from the last decade. Unsurprisingly, he loves “It’s a Wonderful Life” but you have to admit you didn’t expect him to like the classic animated ones like “Rudolph” but he does.

Christmas morning dawns with the smell of coffee and the warm comfort of his arms.

“Ready?” Bucky is practically bouncing with excitement as he passes you your gift.

“Yup!”

“One.” His metal finger glints in the firelight. “Two. Three.” On that mark, you both tear into your presents.

Tears sting your eyes as you stare down at a large sketch pad and a set of art supplies.

“I saw your sketches at the shop. Thought you’d like something to really work with.”

“It’s perfect, Bucky. Thank you.”

He opens the front of the composition book, the first of three, that has ‘Love’ written on the front. His eyes scan the first page, written in your hand, and turns his own tear-filled eyes on you.

On the first few pages of that one, you’d written out a highlight reel of your story up until now. Not just the events but the way he made you feel, the little things that meant the world to you. The rest was blank for him to fill. The one beneath it was titled ‘Present’ and the third ‘Future.’

“You spend a lot of time looking back. But… I thought you may want a place for-”

“Us,” he says with a smile.

“I was going to say happiness, but that works.”

“Same thing.” He pulls you to you for a kiss. “I love you, so much, doll.” He tastes like home, “So much.”

Tags:

@bluegirlusa1  @l0kisbitch  @tazzi-baby  @disagreetoagree  @woodyandbuzz20-01  @mooniightbucky   @saundrasays  @breezy1415  @alyssaj23  @mywinterwolf  @wonderlandmind4  @fairislesheets  @anamcg317  @buckaroo-barnes  @jazztherebel  @peachthatdrinkslemonade  @regulusirius   @auskitty @babyimp1967 @katecolleen  @handplucked  @stevehesaidabadlanguageword  @darkdragonphoenix  @issanitydead  @thestorydetective  @buckysstar  @wintersoldierswhore  @greyeyedsmile14  @watchoutforfrostbite  @for-the-love-of-the-fandom  @jewelofwinter  @siriuslycloudy2  @hardygal69  @jdoenson  @gamorazenn @wildmoonflower @cutie1365

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 11

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter:  Chapter 11

Chapter Summary:  I’ll be sure to mark this date down.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Who would have guessed, I wrote another porn. So that, and tooth rotting fluff because I’m a soft slut.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10}

Henry really had thought of everything when he decided to 'redecorate' his home. Briar was in love with her Paw Patrol bedding and wasted no time in naming all the stuffed animals that now lined the shelf. She fawned over all of the new bedtime story books he had bought and stored in the night stand, quickly picking out her favorites, despite never having been read most of them. She squealed in delight when he turned on the fancy nightlight that projected different images onto the ceiling. He even got a couple spare changes of clothes for the girl.

While Faye loved the idea of him fumbling through the baby girl section, trying to figure out what size Briar wore, Henry confessed to ordering most everything online. He cited COVID as his reason for not going in person, but Faye had a feeling it was because he had no idea what he was doing in the girl's section. He only had two nieces, after all. He was just used to buying for boys instead. His nieces tended to have very specific wants. His brothers or his sisters-in-law told him what they wanted, and he supplied it.

That being said, he did a very good job preparing for a little girl. Faye found herself spending most of her time at his house after the first week. Henry only had a bag of dog food, a couple bowls for Kal and a dog bed at her house. He claimed it was all he needed to be comfortable, but Faye knew otherwise.

On the days they had stayed at his house, Briar almost never let him out of her sight. She loomed across the kitchen when he would try to cook. She stared at him while he read. She lurked while he played video games. Finally Henry invited her to watch him, the little girl all too happy to perch herself on his knee, happily cheering him on despite not knowing what was going on in the game. The few nights they spent back at their own home, Briar demanded to call Henry every night so he knew she was behaving for Mommy.

Henry was even thoughtful enough to clear out a drawer in his bathroom for Faye. She'd lived with a man before, and she always had to fight for her own drawer in the bathroom. She wasn't even asking much. She had a relatively small make up back considering her profession. She only wanted a place to store that, and her feminine necessities. Henry already had those in the drawer for when she needed them. All she had left to do was chuck her spare make up bag, a few hair ties and a brush into her drawer, and she was good to go.

Not to mention, the man had a trash can already in his bathroom. One that he knew existed. Even her father would regularly forget about the trash can in the bathroom growing up. Every Tuesday, he would go through the house and empty each of the smaller bins so he could take all the trash out to the side of the road for trash pick up day. Every Wednesday, her mother would ask him if he got all the trash cans. Every time he would assure that he emptied all of them. Then she would ask about the bathroom and he would stare at her blankly before finally mumbling a small 'oh'.

Finally, Faye reached a point where she couldn't hold it in anymore; her heart was about to explode if she didn't let it out. Henry had just put Briar and Kal off to bed when he found her, a crying mess on the couch. Naturally, his first instinct was to panic. Was she hurt? Did he forget something important? Was it their anniversary? Did they even have one? They've only been involved for a few months, right? Was he ignoring her? Did she feel like he was pushing her aside again? Ultimately, he took his brother's sage like advice that had been freely given at each of his other's brother's weddings.

"Faye, while I don't know exactly what I did wrong, I can see that you are upset, and I am sorry."

"For what?" She sniffled, popping her head up from her knees all to quickly.

"I don't know." Henry admitted, cautiously sitting next to her.

"Henry, I'm not upset. I'm the happiest I've been in a long time." Faye explained, only furthering Henry's confusion.

"Then why are you crying?" He asked slowly, growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. He knew females could be complicated, but how could you be happy and crying at the same time? Those were two opposite emotions, weren't they?

"I'm just really happy." Faye wiped at her eyes, scooting closer to Henry to lean against him.

"That doesn't explain why you are crying..."

"Haven't you ever been so happy you cried?"

"I've been so happy it's brought a tear to my eye, yes. Never full out sobbing like something horrible just happened. I thought I forgot an anniversary or something!"

"We don't have one." Faye pointed out, as Henry wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her closer.

"I'm sure we do."

"We never officially agreed to be exclusive or anything."

"Have you been doing things I should be aware of?" Henry asked, raising a brow as he looked down at her.

"No. Have you?"

"Of course not. I was under the impression we've been a thing for a while now. Unlike some people."

"You never said anything! You can't just decide we're a thing without telling me!"

"Well do you want this to be a thing?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind it..."

"Then let's just retro date it. What was a significant even between us? Me meeting Briar?"

"No, we just flirted a lot back then."

"True."

"When you asked me to spend more time here?"

"That's way too recent. We've definitely been involved longer than that. What about that night on the couch? When you started dry humping me during the movie?"

"That was a fun night." Faye sighed wistfully.

"Certainly sticks out to me." Henry agreed.

"Deal. We'll figure out what day that was and that can be our anniversary."

"I need to put it in my phone. If I forget I get the feeling I won't ever hear the end of it."

"Do you even know when my birthday is?" Faye asked suddenly, twisting in his embrace to look up at him."

"That would be another good date to put in my calendar."

"What about Briar's birthday?"

"Ok, that one I know! You invited me over to help make her a cake. And then Briar led me into your room right after you'd finished showering. God, that ass..."

"Focus, Romeo!" Faye giggled, playfully swatting at his shoulder.

"Ugh, not Romeo. Choose a different story, I don't want us to end up dead over a misunderstanding."

"Uhh... I'm drawing a blank. You go first."

"You started it, you go first."

"You know, it's getting kinda late, I should go shower before I get too tired." Faye excused herself, slipping from his grip and scurrying out of his reach before he could snatch her up again.

"You, Miss Warren, are a tease." Henry pouted, flopping himself against the back of the couch.

"I am no such thing." Faye gasped, slowly peeling her shirt up over her head. She let it fall silently to the floor, annoyed when her actions went unnoticed. She was in no mood to be ignored.

This time, she reached behind herself, unhooking her bra and slinging it at him, the supportive garment landing directly on his face. It took Henry a second to realize what was going on, picking it up and straightening it out, his mind quickly connecting the dots once he realized what it was. He was on his feet in an instant, growling as he chased his laughing prey down the hall.

He snatched her up around her waist just before she could reach the door, playfully biting at the junction of her neck. "Got you, you little minx." He growled, pressing a kiss to the mark he had left.

"Well that means you get to lay claim to me." Faye giggled, reaching back to cup the back of his neck, pulling his head down for an awkwardly angled kiss.

"Bedroom." Henry muttered against her lips, blindly reaching for the knob and pushing the door open. He set Faye down, swatting at her ass as she slipped by, eagerly following and locking the door behind themselves. By the time he had yanked his shirt off, Faye had already pushed her sweats and panties down, crawling up the bed and giving him a view he never wanted to forget, her glistening peach peeking out from between her thighs, her ass swaying delightfully as she moved.

"Condom?" Faye asked, settling herself down in the middle of the bed, propped up on her elbows.

"Side table." Henry responded, nodding to the table on his side of the bed as he got to work shedding the rest of his clothing. "They better fucking be in date." He added after a second of thought.

"How long have you had them?" Faye snorted, digging through the drawer until she came up with the foil packet.

"Not a clue. They haven't been seeing much use in the last year or so."

"COVID?"

"Fucking COVID." Henry grumbled, crawling onto the edge of the bed, his eyes slowly drinking her in.  He grabbed her by the ankle, reverently uncrossing her legs, his strong hands kneading into the arch of her foot as he laid gentle kisses along the ink decorating the top of it. "What's this called?" He asked, his fingers brushing across the design.

"Mandala." Faye explained, Henry nodding and pressing a gentle kiss to it and slowly sliding his hands up, crossing over to her other leg to trace his fingers over the owl.

"This is an owl." He stated definitively, pressing another kiss to her artwork. He then slid up more, nudging her arm out of his way to look more closely at the mermaid he had found before, letting his fingers trace over it, causing Faye to giggle and squirm. "And here is a ticklish little mermaid." He teased, kissing across her torso, just beneath her bare breasts, craning his neck and smiling proudly "Ah ha! I thought I saw something over there." He mumbled proudly, pressing a kiss to the small butterfly on that side of her ribcage, eliciting another giggle from the woman trapped below him. "A ticklish little butterfly! Any others around here?" He asked, pressing kisses back across her torso, wrapping his lips around a nipple when she shook her head.

His tongue flicked against the rapidly hardening bud, grabbing onto her arms and pinning them down when she began to squirm more beneath him.

"Now then, I know about this one." He continued, lifting her right hand to kiss at the leaves and vines wrapping around her wrist and thumb. "And you showed me this one." He pressed an almost reverent kiss to the inside of her forearm, gently moving her arms up over her head. "Now, I can think of one more..." He mumbled, sliding a hand beneath Faye's hip and flipping her over onto her stomach all too easily, managing to keep her trapped beneath him the entire time. "And that's back here." His fingers traced along the black and white depiction of a tree, winding along her spine, its branches reaching up to her shoulders.

"Any others I should know about?" He asked, sliding his hand beneath Faye's hips, trailing lower to slide his fingers through the slick heat gathering between her thighs.

"That's all." Faye moaned, grinding down into his probing fingers.

"You do have quite a few, Miss Warren." Henry finally conceded, his hand sliding back just far enough to roll her back onto her back. "But I would consider this a work of art as well." He purred, diving in to kiss and suck at her slick folds shamelessly.

"Oh shit." Faye panted, her back arching at the sudden stimulation. "Fuck, Henry. I want you now."

"Patience, Miss Warren. I'm going to need you nice and relaxed before you try and take me."

"Damnit, Henry!" Faye growled, using her legs to pull his face even closer to her core, effectively silencing him with her pussy for the time being. "I can sink the Titanic with how fucking wet I am. Now."

"So bossy." Henry tutted, using the leverage he had against her to push her knees almost to her chest, eagerly diving back in, licking, sucking and kissing like a starving man at a feast.

"Fuuuuck." Faye groaned, gripping the sheets with one hand, the other trying to grip the hair on the back of his head, only to be met with fuzz. "Damnit all!" She hissed, cupping the back of his head instead to pull him closer. Henry was all to happy to comply with her demands, even slipping two fingers inside her dripping entrance, curling them in search of the sensitive spot he knew was there, grinning triumphantly when she started squirming harder. One part of her wanted to go up into his teasing mouth. The other wanted to go down onto his wandering fingers.

Henry finally took mercy on her, latching onto her bundle of nerves and sucking hard, his tongue flicking over it as his fingers tapped out a rhythm inside of her, easily sending her toppling over the edge, leaving her a panting mess below him.

"I think you're relaxed enough now." He taunted playfully, gently moving to let her lay flat on the bed.

"I want dick." Faye panted, glaring up at him as he attempted to innocently open the condom, shooting what she assumed was meant to be a wink her way.

"What a coincidence, I just so happen to have one right here, wrapped and ready to go."

"Shut up and fuck me." Faye groaned, rolling her eyes at his antics. Of course, he would manage to still be a dork in the middle of having sex.

"Would you like to stay on your back, or do you want to try something else?"

"I don't have the energy to bounce around on your cock right now."

"Alrighty then." He half laughed, nudging her knees apart to make room for himself, caging her in below his body once again. "This might sting a bit." He advised, gripping himself by the base, sliding the head of his cock between her swollen petals. He slowly pressed inside, rocking his way in until the tip of his cock was pressed firmly against her cervix.

"Are you alright?" Henry asked, wincing when her nails dug even harder into his shoulders.

"Yeah." Faye forced out, trying to slow her breathing. "I'm actively being split in half, but yeah."

"I'm sorry." Henry murmured softly, peppering her face with kisses as he began to roll his hips. Not full on thrusting, no. He saved that for when she started to squirm beneath him, trying to get him to press against all the right spots inside her. Then and only then did he rise up onto his knees, holding her up by her hips to pound into her, her nails now scratching at the sheets.

"Fuck, right there!" Faye gasped, her back arching when he brushed against a particularly sensitive area. "Fuck, don't stop, don't stop!" Henry's head fell back at her pleading, loving how she kept begging for more, her pleas devolving until only his name, 'please' and 'more' fell from her lips.

"Come on, cum all over my cock. Let me watch you come undone." Henry encouraged, slamming into her harder until he felt her walls clenching around him, her head thrown back as she begged him to keep going. Henry didn't last long past her orgasm, finishing himself only a few thrusts later.

"We did it." Faye panted as Henry slowly withdrew, careful to tie the condom off and toss it into the bathroom trashcan.

"Did what?" Henry inquired as he crawled back into bed, letting Faye curl into his side and pulling the blanket over both of them.

"We finally had sex."

"I shall be sure to also mark this date on my calendar."

"Dork."

"Yes, but I'm your dork."

Taglist: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient