#also please know that if you compliment me I will melt into a happy puddle 🥺💕

[dissapointu]

u have beautiful writing and it’s honestly a talent! you’re so quick with it like hello? may u please do how arcane characters would react to having a partner who likes making handmade gifts instead of buying them? me personally i LOVE making handmade gifts because it seems more beautiful putting in work for my friends and family! honestly you’re my favorite writer on this app I’ll most definitely think about makin u a handmade gift! you’re so cool!

FIRST OFF??? YOU are the coolest person EVER and reading your message made me do a little happy dance in my chair, so thank you for THAT! 🥹 The fact that you’re out here pouring love into handmade gifts for your friends and family?? ICONIC. Handmade gifts are SO slept on, and you’re out here proving they’re the superior love language. If I could, I’d be your hype squad 24/7. (Also, i would ugly cry if you made me a gift Mamas.)

Okay, okay, let’s jump into how the Arcane characters would react to having a partner who loves making handmade gifts because spoiler: they’re all gonna be absolutely obsessed with you. Let’s GO.

———————————————————————-

Jinx

Jinx would LOSE HER MIND every single time you gave her a gift. She’s such a sucker for anything you pour your heart into.

• “Wait, wait—YOU made this? For ME?” She’s staring at it with huge eyes like you just handed her a treasure map.

• She’d keep EVERYTHING you give her, no matter what it is. You could hand her a crocheted pigeon and she’d be like, “This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”

• She’d totally try to make something for you in return, but it’d be chaotic as hell. Like, you’d get a DIY flamethrower or something held together with duct tape and glitter.

Basically, she’s your number one fan and would brag about you constantly.

Vi

Vi is playing it cool, but deep down, she’s melting into a puddle of feelings. She’d get all quiet when you give her something and just kinda… stare at it like she can’t believe someone would put in that much effort for her.

• If you made her something wearable, like a bracelet or beanie? That thing is NEVER coming off.

• She’s not much for words, but she’d pull you into a tight hug and just whisper, “Thanks. I mean it.”

• Also, if anyone dares to make fun of your gifts, she’s throwing hands. (“What’d you say about my partner’s hand-painted mug? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”)

Sevika

Sevika would be SO caught off guard when you hand her a gift. She’s not used to people doing thoughtful stuff for her, so she’s just… staring at you, holding your gift like it’s a foreign object.

• If it’s something practical, like a leather pouch or gloves? She’s putting them to use immediately. And trust, she’ll let everyone know her partner made them.

• If it’s something sentimental? She’s keeping it tucked away somewhere safe, but you’ll catch her looking at it when she thinks you’re not watching.

She’s a little rough around the edges, but trust me, she cherishes EVERY handmade thing you give her.

Silco

Silco would be SO intrigued by the concept of handmade gifts. Like, he’s trying to figure out why you’d put in so much effort instead of just buying something. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it’s because you care about him. And yeah, that hits him right in his cold, scheming heart.

• Something elegant or functional, like a pen case or a decorative box? He’s putting it on his desk like it belongs in a museum.

• Something more emotional, like a portrait of him and Jinx? He’ll treasure it forever but keep it private—it’s too precious for the world to see.

You’ve officially cracked the Silco Code: thoughtful effort = instant softie.

Vander

Vander is 100% DAD MODE ACTIVATED every time you give him something. He’s smiling so big it hurts, just standing there like, “You made this? For me?”

• If it’s something for the bar, like a new sign or decoration? He’s putting it up immediately and making everyone compliment it.

• More personal gifts, like a knitted scarf? He’s rocking it every single day, even if it’s summer.

• He’d also love hearing about your process, sitting there with his tea like, “Tell me about this one. What inspired you?” Big golden retriever vibes, honestly.

Ekko

Ekko would be OBSESSED with your gifts. Like, you’ve unlocked a whole new love language for him.

• If you made him something for the Firelights, like a custom mask or patch? He’s adding it to his gear immediately. “Look at this! My partner made it. Isn’t it sick?”

• If it’s something sentimental, he’d carry it around like a good luck charm. It could be the tiniest trinket, and he’d be like, “This? This is everything.”

• He’d also 100% try to make something for you in return. Now you’ve got matching handmade energy, and everyone is jealous of your vibes.

Jayce

Jayce would be SO touched by your gifts. This man is a golden retriever in human form, so every time you give him something, he’s beaming like you just made his whole week.

• If it’s something for his lab, like a personalized toolbox? He’s showing it off to Viktor like, “Look what my partner made. Aren’t they amazing?”

• Something sentimental, like a framed photo or painting? He’s hanging it in his house and telling EVERYONE about it.

Jayce is basically your personal hype squad, and he’s never gonna stop appreciating your creativity.

Viktor

Viktor would be SO soft about your gifts. Like, he’s not used to people going out of their way for him, so when you hand him something, he’s just sitting there like, “You made this? For me?”

• If it’s something practical, like a custom notebook for his designs, he’s using it every day and thinking of you while he works.

• Sentimental gifts, like a sketch or keepsake? He’s keeping them close, tucked away in a spot where he can see them when he needs a boost.

You’d inspire him to start tinkering on something special just for you. Now you’ve got your own Viktor Original™.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be SO charmed by your gifts. She’s used to fancy, expensive things, but the effort and love you put into your handmade stuff? That’s what gets her.

• Make her something practical, like gloves or a scarf? She’s wearing them CONSTANTLY and bragging to everyone.

• If it’s more sentimental, like a personal letter or drawing? She’s keeping it somewhere safe and rereading it when she misses you.

Caitlyn loves thoughtful gestures, so you’re basically her dream partner. Period.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be absolutely enchanted by your gifts. She’s surrounded by luxury, but your handmade work feels so much more personal.

• Something elegant, like jewelry or an intricate painting? She’s showing it off at council meetings like it’s priceless.

• Something heartfelt? She’s keeping it in her private quarters where she can admire it when she’s alone.

Mel would also encourage you to turn your craft into a business because she believes in your talent 100%.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be IMPRESSED. She’s a practical person, so if you make her something functional, like a knife sheath or leather gear, she’s putting it to use immediately.

• If it’s sentimental, she’d keep it hidden, but trust—it means a lot to her.

She’d respect your dedication and probably compare you to a warrior. “It takes discipline to create something with your own hands.”

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger would be THRILLED. He LOVES creativity, and your handmade gifts would light up his world.

• If you made him something clever or whimsical, he’s showing it off to everyone in Piltover. “Look what my partner made! Aren’t they brilliant?”

• Sentimental stuff? He’s putting it in his workshop where he can admire it while he tinkers.

He’d also want to collaborate on a project with you because you’re basically his new favorite inventor.

Salo

Okay, Salo would be one of those people who doesn’t know how to react at first, but you’d totally catch him staring at your gift later, all soft and thoughtful.

• If you made him something like a carved figurine or a small keepsake, he’d keep it in his pocket for good luck and touch it when he’s thinking about you.

• He wouldn’t be super showy about it, but you’d KNOW it meant a lot to him when he said something lowkey like, “You didn’t have to, but… thanks. This is nice.”

• Deep down, he’d be so touched that you took the time to make something just for him. Handmade gifts just hit different for someone like Salo, who appreciates quiet, meaningful gestures.

Scar

Scar is giving CHAOTIC, “OMG YOU MADE THIS??” energy every single time. Like, no matter what it is, he’s holding it up like you just gifted him the crown jewels.

• If you made him something goofy, like a silly little knitted hat or a bracelet, he’s rocking it IMMEDIATELY. “Look at this! My partner made it! Aren’t they the best?”

• He’d totally try to “help” you make stuff sometimes, but he’d just end up making a mess and laughing about it the whole time.

• Scar is your ultimate hype man, always gassing you up and telling everyone how talented you are. You could hand him a macaroni necklace, and he’d be like, “Masterpiece. Absolute masterpiece.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is secretly the softest bean about your handmade gifts. Like, she’d be a little shy at first when you gave her something, but you’d catch her smiling at it later when she thought you weren’t looking.

• If you made her something practical, like a cozy scarf or a cute notebook, she’d use it all the time and feel so warm and fuzzy knowing it came from you.

• Sentimental gifts? She’s absolutely treasuring them forever. She’d keep them somewhere special, like her desk or bedside table, and glance at them whenever she’s missing you.

• Maddie would totally ask about your process too, like, “How did you even come up with this? It’s amazing.” She’s so supportive, and your gifts would mean the world to her.

Lest

Lest would be absolutely ENCHANTED by your handmade gifts. Like, she’d hold them so gently, as if she’s afraid of breaking something so precious.

• If you made her something elegant or delicate, like a hand-painted vase or a piece of embroidery, she’d treat it like it’s the most valuable thing she owns.

• Lest would also love the thought and care behind your gifts. She’s the type to listen closely when you explain how you made something, nodding along with genuine interest.

• You’d totally catch her showing off your gifts to her friends, like, “My partner made this. Isn’t it beautiful?” She’d treasure everything you give her, no matter how big or small.

And that’s it! TL;DR: YOU are a gift, and every Arcane character would feel insanely lucky to have someone as thoughtful and creative as you. Keep being amazing, bestie. 💜

[moirasdolly]

Venture With a Taller Hyper Femme Reader ˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 ׂ

Contains: Slightly suggestive content, Sloan being cute and affectionate, puppy-like reader

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: 2 Die 4 - Addison Rae & Charli xcx

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write for them soooo bad AHHH this is highly self indulgent though… They need a femme princess like me and that’s my truth 🐩 Also i diddd use google translate for some of the pet names and whatnot, PLEASE let me know if i messed anything up.

• Short, chipped, black nails, oversized clothes, dark colors and earth tones, and heavy combat boots contrasted your always perfectly manicured nails, pink, black and white color palette, tight fitting clothes that showed off your body, and dainty Mary Jane’s. They do say opppsites attract ♥︎.

• You took hours to get ready, but Sloan absolutely adored the way you looked when you got all dolled up (they loved you without makeup too, but that’s a given.) Their favorite pass-time while they wait for you to finish is to watch you from your shared bed and shower you with compliments, they just can’t help it. You always felt your best with big lashes, blushed cheeks, and plump glossy lips.

• “Stop it Sloan! You’re messing up my makeup!” You giggled uncontrollably as they cupped your cheeks and peppered kisses all over your face. You tried to be angry, but their love was so infectious that you felt your heart melt at how sweet and affectionate they were. “You love it, mi vida.”

• Sloan would never let you being taller than them be an obstacle. Have you seen the drill they carry around? No matter how tall you are, they make it their mission to carry you like a princess whenever they can. The feeling of their rough, calllused hands sliding under your thighs as you wrap your legs and arms around them is the most comfortable feeling in the world, and you both cherish the close proximity dearly. When you first started dating them, you were slightly self conscious about the fact that you were taller often asking, “Promise you won’t drop me?” Sloan quickly wiped all doubt from your mind though, being in their arms was the most stable you’ve ever felt.

• Sloan has a flair for the dramatic too. If they spot a puddle on the sidewalk, expect yourself to be swept off your feet bridal style only for them to walk 2 feet over the puddle, and be let down gently after. It makes you giggle everytime and although it was a bit silly, you secretely loved how chivalrous they were.

• “Watch out, muñeca!” Sloan called out before sweeping you up into their arms. A little gasp was pulled from your lips as you felt yourself being lifted into their strong arms. You eyed their flexing biceps as you wrapped your arms around their neck gently. “My knight in shining armor! What would I do without you?” You repay their antics with a chaste kiss to the cheek, leaving a pink glossy mark where your lips had previously been. Their cheeks heated up at your affection and they huffed out a laugh. “Anything for my princess.” They muttered as water droplets splashed onto their boots. When they didn’t let you down you tilted your head in confusion, “Baby, you can let me down now.” Their hold on you tightened, adjusting their grip on you slightly. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”

• Honestly… They fuel your shopping addiction I fear! They would never pass up an opportunity to accompany you while you looked around the mall, offering to buy you anything you picked up. You always refused, wanting to buy things for yourself, you’d just feel too bad for making Sloan spend so much money on you.

• Sloan would assure you they wouldn’t mind paying for things if it would make you happy, but you insisted on the fact that them being there was enough. They would still find a way to sneakily pay for at least some of your stuff and you always gave them a smack on the arm for it. “Sloan…” You stared at them with an accusatory glare. “Sorry my hand slipped, mi reina.”

• It was such a silly sight to see Sloan all tatted up with piercings carrying bags from Victoria’s Secret, Pink, Bath and Bodywork’s, Juicy Couture, and other girly shops for their princessy girlfriend.

• When it came to their work though, that is when you followed them around like a puppy. Often times, Sloan would bring you to their dig sites, and you always stuck close by, trailing them around while they did all the work. You observed them wide eyed and curious as they searched for fossils and artifacts to study later. If you had a tail it would most definitely be wagging when you see how happy Sloan was after finding a particularly cool artifact.

• “What’s that?” “Ooo, how does that work?” “What does this do?” Were all frequent questions that left your mouth when you were Sloan on a dig. Sometimes even when you knew what something was, you still asked them just to hear them ramble on about it. Whatever they were passionate about, it made you happy even if it was on the opposite spectrum from what you usually enjoyed.

• Now for the suggestive content ♥︎.

• They LOVE to see you in cute, frilly lingerie. Like they love it an ungodly amount. Their mind raced with a hundred thoughts a second of what they wanted to do and say to you. Balconette bras, garter belts and garters, lacy panties, stockings, and pretty little slip dresses, anything of the sort, they loved to see you in.

• They just love your body so much. You might feel less feminine for being taller sometimes, but they would make you feel so good about yourself, no thought of self doubt would ever enter your mind again.

• Their rough fingers slipped under your garter belt and lifted it up ever so slightly only to let it snap back against your soft skin. You let out a quiet hiss at the sting and press further into their warm body. “Shhh, mi amor. I’ll kiss it better, yeah?” They mumbled before dipping their head down to your waist and leaving little kisses all over your mid section. You ran your fingers through their soft, messy hair and you hummed in satisfaction. “Thank you, my Sloan.” You mumble softly. All you get in return are more kisses and a soft hum from them.

• They’d be superrrr handsy with you any chance they get. They love rubbing gentle circles into your sides, sliding their hands up your skirt to leave little pinches on your thighs, or holding you from behind and resting their head on your shoulder. If they can be close to you, they will take the opportunity.

• They just love you very much :c They will literally show you love with every action of theirs. They would do anything for their femme princess ♥︎.

[gothmikasagf]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a romantic Hazbin Match up! I am using this in other blogs, hopefully that's not a faux pas.

I'm Olivia.

Pronouns: She/her and female Sexuality: Straight

Style: My style ranges depending on my mood but it consistantly falls into three categories of dresses (Usually knee length with a fit and flare waist), comfy (Sweaters and comforters), and sexy (Think corsets and bustiers.). I like wearing make-up and styling my hair into cute styles (Sadly I suck at braiding.) Shoes… honestly I think I like all shoes except crocks. I love Nail art too!

Hobbies/Interest: Drawing, singing, gaming, reading and shopping. I like trying out new things from activities and foods. Favorite subjects are history, mythology, and computer science, and I like building furniture when I have a guide.

Book genres: Romance, Fantasy, Historical, and Mystery

Personality: I'm called a social butterfly by everyone I know. I've also been told I have a tendency to adopt introverts into my circle and care for them. No joke, I've been invited to place because I'm willing to talk to strangers and not shy away from conversation. I've been told that I'm very entertaining to be around because I'm very bubbly and animated in my interations because I like making people happy.

Jokes on everyone because internally I'm very shy and a nervous wreck, I just know how to hide it well. I definitely can suffer from feeling inadequet and have imposter syndrome XD Honestly to quote my favorite character: I'm an insecure, neurotic control freak… on crack. I can also be materialistic and enjoy buying jewelry.

I'm very protective over my loved ones, think "Hurt them, I hurt you and no one will find the body." I tend to hover over loved ones if they are sick or sad and help take care of them.

I also can definitely be a bitch but usually the other person deserves my ire. I also will hold grudges if people backstab me. They can say they are sorry but I will not trust them again nor will I let them near my circle of people. I can also been

Oooooh I love spicy foods, baked goods, and love trying to make new dishes or eating them.

Love Languages: Physical Touch: I love to cuddle, hug and everything else under the sun. If I'm kissed on the forehead, I will swoon. Emotional: This is a must because if there's no emtional connection why is there a relationship to begin with. I want to be able to talk to my partner and them to me no matter the situation. Both the good and the bad. Gift giving: I don't care what kind of gift, for me it's the thought that counts that I was on his mind.

My type: I'm very specific in my type so I'mma choose two good and one bad: I want someone loving and caring, and not a jackass. Otherwise I will be the one punching them.

I match you with...

Lucifer Morningstar!

I feel like he would benefit from someone who's a bit of an extrovert and pushes him to get out of his house a bit more but that also understands how he feels

It would take him a while to get warmed up to you but when he does prepare for him to be constantly by your side and showering you with gifts.

Always notices your outfits and showers you in compliments. Please do the same for him.

He thinks you're so cute when you show your protective side. He's the most powerful in all of hell and will most likely be the one protecting you, but don't mind him melting into a puddle if you threaten someone Alastor who tried to cross him.

Hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is always appreciated!

[atthebell-moved]

🕯, 🔔, and 🥫

🔔 - What compliment meant the most to you regarding your writing? (offline or online)

Omg a bell 🧡🧡 I distinctly remember this one Lainey always tells me that i write Techno really well and it always makes me so happy bc I love him and also i do think i write him well ❤️❤️

🥫 - What’s a scene you’ve really enjoyed working on?

I keep fiddling with this scene for the next m4m chapter that involves Shubble and that entire fic is just. Such a self-indulgence i just spend the whole time giggling while I'm writing. Anyway the scene involves art history and tntduo being goofy shits

🕯 - Share a scene in your latest WIP

This isn't my latest WIP but I did work on stale fries for a bit today:

“Wilbur–”

“Don’t say my name like that. Like you’re sick of me, I know you’re sick of me, everyone’s fucking tired of me, please, say my name like you care. Please, Q.”

She can hear Quackity rubbing his forehead, shoving his hair back under his beanie. She wishes he was sitting on her couch, pressing her into his shoulder. Instead there’s a puddle forming on her pants from the ice, turning back into shitty tap water in the hot air.

“Wilbur,” he says, softly this time, and she can hear it, can hear what she’s been aching for. He still sounds tired, like he wishes they weren’t on the phone, but he cares. That’s all that matters.

“You can’t go home.” It’s not a question.

“No,” he whispers into the phone. “I can’t– Tommy can’t see me like this.”

“Okay,” Quackity murmurs. “Okay. Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.”

Wilbur squirms against the concrete. She wants his attention, but she doesn’t actually want him to see her right now, covered in melted ice and a little bit of vomit.

“Q–”

“No, Wilbur.” His voice is firm but not unkind. “Where are you?”

He goes quiet and then mutters the address into the phone. He expects Quackity to hang up, then, and for her to sit here in the dark quiet and wait, alone, but she hears him gather his keys and climb downstairs, into his car, and the phone rattles when he throws it into the cupholder. He jabs at the speakerphone button and she hears the car start.

“Wil? Can you still hear me?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I can hear you.”

“Okay, good. Is it… Is it a nice motel?” He sounds awkward, and it shouldn’t, but it gets Wilbur to smile.

“What do you think?”

Quackity laughs in response and she can’t help but smile a little more. It’s a real laugh, like the ones she used to pull from him before– everything, and the reminder doesn’t feel painful for once.

“I’m locked out,” he repeats. Quackity hums in response, concentrating on backing out, probably, and then responds.

“Oh. Are you– Are you safe? I can get there in like fifteen if I push it, although you’re paying off my speeding ticket.” He’s trying to make him laugh again, and it almost works.

“I’m fine. I’ve got a knife, you know me, Big Q, always packin’,” a smile carves itself into her face again and she feels like it’s not going away until Quackity gets here. He can make her smile through the phone for the whole drive.

“Okay, Wilbur. Okay.”

~

I need to post the first chapter so when i post snippets it's not like. Completely contextless but also I've had writers block for like two months

ask game

[iprobablyshipit91]

So happy and sad at the same time to see the final chapter of this 💕

Of course Ben is smug. What is it about him that if it was anyone else he’d be annoying? He makes asshole way too sexy 😂

““I need you to fuck me. Right now,” you said. “Or I’m gonna rip my aunt’s face off.”” I mean… I don’t blame her 😂 and there are worse reasons 🤷🏻‍♀️

““Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”” I loved this because you just know he would if she didn’t give him the warnings. ““You’re making a lot of fucking demands tonight,” he said, squeezing your arms a bit.” I love how he’s being grumpy and pissy but you know he secretly loves that she gives it right back too. No one else is allowed to speak to him like she does and get away with it.

““Did I?” he mused, as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed a bit roughly, drawing a pleased sound from your lips. “I’ve got good taste.”” Again the thought of him in a store buying these things tickles me but of course he pays himself a compliment here 😂

But oh boy was this scene hot. I could have quoted just about every line. I loved it.

“Oh shit. You still hadn’t gotten your IUD replaced…” she’s really not doing very well with this is she 😂😂 the snippet from strong as blood is making more and more sense…

““You’re beautiful tonight,” he said.” Cue me melting into a huge puddle 🫠

“Ben met your gaze with a raised brow. “What, can’t take care of my girl?”” 🫠🫠 I’m gone. You know what this does to me. God I loved this whole scene. How caring he is. Nobody can say he doesn’t care for and love the reader. Dear lord.

““No one’s got the fucking right to talk about our business,” he said. “And you better not listen to a goddamn word. About me, and sure as shit, not about you.”” I feel like you’re trying to kill me with this chapter. Yes. I’m so happy he heard and he spoke up about what was said as it was completely rude and unnecessary. Personally I’d enjoy him bringing Trina down a bit, but this was just perfect 😍

Jeez aunt Silvia doesn’t mess around does she? I’m glad they saw the tiny side though and the teasing after was super cute.

But Trina definitely needs a talking to. I’m glad George spoke up but it didn’t deter her for long. I wouldn’t have blamed Ben at all for loosing his shit at her but the way he made Marie feel better about the crappy food 😍 just beautiful and shows how much he’s changed as a character again. Literally so adorable.

I really loved Marie and Louisa’s gifts to him. They were thoughtful and gives him more family which he desperately needs. But I also love that again, the journal started to rub him the wrong way but he tampered it down and saw the gift for what it was. I was actually really proud of him 😍

And the photo album was adorable. I loved the different photos you had included, both bens old ones and the new ones with the team. It was such a wonderful gift for him. It gave me all the feels 😍

Loved the ending. After all he’s done I think he earned a little care from the reader 😜

Again, this chapter and whole mini series was perfect. I’ve absolutely loved it and can’t wait to see what you do with the next one! Fantastic job 😘

Love Actually - Part 3

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.  

AN: And here’s Part 3, lovelies. Stick around after the end for a special announcement (new BMD fic dropping next weekend)!

Remember, this is set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” There will be a few references to the original story in this. But on the whole, this can be read as a stand-alone!

Word Count: 5,300 Warnings: 18+ only! Smutty smut ahead. Lots of fluff and a potential overload of feels.~

Part 3: “Auld Lang Syne”

You leaned down, subtly grabbing his thigh.

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. The tone of your voice set his blood alight with new interest.

Ben’s resulting smirk was subtle, but edged. “A tour it is.” 

Ben got up from the couch, giving you a thinly veiled look of smugness. He knew you’d come around. 

You nearly rolled your eyes. 

But when you told your grandfather your plans to show your boyfriend the rest of the house, he just waved the two of you off. He was too invested in the baseball game to give it much thought.

Which left Ben to follow you up the stairs, where he admired the curve of your ass in this little dress. He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and grabbed a delectable handful. 

You gasped and clung to the guardrail. You shot him a warning look over your shoulder, despite your smile. 

Not yet, your gaze told him. But you took his hand and guided him the rest of the way up. His grip tightened on yours.

All right. He could wait.

When they got to the second floor though, Ben started to get curious about the large two-story house. 

“I thought you said your mom had debts,” he said. “Supposedly, that’s why you took on the job of hunting me down.”

You chuckled humorlessly. “Don’t let that Betty Crocker apron fool you. She’s a degenerate gambler.”

Behind you, Ben’s brows rose a bit.

You paused a step. “Or, well, she used to be. As you know, my family has issues.”

He snorted in response. Something else occurred to him though.

“Is this the house you grew up in?” he asked. You full on stopped walking then. 

“Oh, no,” you said, with a firm shake of your head. “She sold that house after the divorce. She bought this one with the settlement money.”

Ben ruminated over that as you led him into the guest bathroom. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and by the time he turned around, you were there with your warm hands on his chest, shoving back his jacket.

He smirked and shrugged it off the rest of the way, then draped it on the doorknob behind him. He started with unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt. 

You watched him with hunger in your eyes, running your hands down his firm chest and solid abs. 

You heaved a breath of relief when he pulled you in. He wrapped his arms around your waist and started kissing down your neck. You clung to his arms and tried to stop yourself from digging your nails into his nice shirt. 

“What changed your mind?” Ben asked.

“Are you complaining?” you quipped.

“Always a fucking smartass,” he rejoined. And his lips left you, with him giving you raised brow. His thigh slipped between your legs, a slow and torturous friction. “Maybe I’ll just leave that pretty pussy on fire.”

Ugh, you thought. He could be so annoying. You leveled your stern eyes up at him. 

“I need you to fuck me. Right now,” you said. “Or I’m gonna rip my aunt’s face off.” 

You reached down to cup his length firmly through his slacks, earning a grunt from him. It ended on a groan when you grazed him with your nails. He chuckled deeply.

“That’s kinda hot,” he replied. An understatement. The hairs on his arms were standing up, along with his cock. 

You smiled in amusement. “You would think so.”

He grabbed your arms and meant to kiss you, but you stopped him with your fingers against his lips. 

“Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”

By no means did you want to get caught doing this. You already felt guilty, and you two hadn’t even done anything yet. But you needed this, or else you weren’t sure you could get through dinner without any violent incidents.  

But you could tell that Ben was annoyed at being given restrictions as he stared down at you. 

“You’re making a lot of fucking demands tonight,” he said, squeezing your arms a bit.  

You smirked and tilted your face up to him. You leaned up, nearly brushing your lips with his. 

“Isn’t it more satisfying when you have to work for it?” you asked.

Ben huffed, and almost rolled his eyes. If there was one thing you enjoyed doing, it was testing his fucking patience. 

But then he smirked. “Fine.”

He gripped your arms tighter and turned you around, pressing you against the pristine granite countertop. You met his darkened gaze in the mirror.  

You knew then that he was going to do one of his favorite things: taking you from behind while he made you watch. It wasn’t the first time, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. But you parted your legs, your lower belly quivering with anticipation as his thigh encouraged you.  

His hands soothed down your arms, dragging across your body, squeezing your breasts over your dress while his lips burned down your neck once more. His teeth grazed your skin, making you shudder.

You then remembered to turn the faucet on in the sink. It would create some more background noise, and hopefully disguise your moans as his hands traveled down your body. 

You helped him slide the skirt of your dress up, tug your pantyhose down to your ankles without ripping them. 

“Hmm, I like the black lace,” he murmured behind you. His fingers dragged down your skin along with your panties.

“I know,” you replied on a shaky breath, as his fingers teased the slit of your pussy from behind, brushing between the folds. “You bought ‘em last week.”

“Did I?” he mused, as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed a bit roughly, drawing a pleased sound from your lips. “I’ve got good taste.”

A smile broke out across your face. “See? I never need to pay you any compliments. You can stroke your own ego just fine.”

Ben tilted his head at you. He peered around your shoulder to catch your eye. You gave him a sly look over your shoulder, though it was edged with desire.

“Oh yeah?” His words were a challenge. His fingers entered you then, earning an even deeper moan from you, though you tried to taper it down. “Maybe I should let you stroke your own too, huh?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. Your inner walls were already clenching on his fingers, and you had to grab his arm and the counter for balance. 

“Ben, please,” you whispered more raggedly. His smirk took on a wicked edge. 

“Oh, now it’s please?” he said, his voice drawing deeper, more gruff. “Please what?”

You couldn’t speak. His fingers were working overtime pulsing inside you, while his other hand joined, parting your folds to press on your clit like a button. You were so fucking close, you could taste it…    

But as soon as that coil began to truly tighten, Ben withdrew his fingers. You panted for breath, and your gaze snapped up to his in the mirror. You glared at him. 

“What the f—”

“Answer me,” he demanded. “Or I really will walk the fuck out right now.” 

Big talk, you thought, from the man with a rock-hard dick. But you blew out a breath and conceded to his demands. 

“Please,” you said, reaching back to stroke his cheek, running your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer. Your hand clenched in his hair. And with the other, you took his hand, still wet from where it had been inside you, and brushed it against your slippery folds. 

“This is all because of you,” you said. “Only ever for you. Fuck me until I break an ankle in these heels. ‘Til I can’t fucking breathe.”

Ben’s chest warmed. And it wasn’t just about his pride.

Somehow, you gave him everything he wanted to hear and more. Maybe that was part of what he loved about you. Even when you demanded from him, you gave him more of yourself.

So he gave you what you wanted. He guided you down onto the counter and rucked up your dress. Per rule #2, he did it gently enough so he wouldn’t rip the fabric. 

You heard his pants unzipping, felt the weeping head of his cock against your folds, teasing you for a moment. You gripped the counter and made a sound of pleading frustration. 

“I gotcha, baby,” Ben said, lowly in your ear. He gripped your hip and guided his cock inside you, nice and slow. You both breathed hard, trying to keep your voices down. He then bottomed out, and it made your inner walls flutter and tighten. He made a gutteral sound, low and pleased. “Such a good girl.”

His darkened green eyes fixed on yours in the mirror. It was heat and desire, but it was also deeper. It always had been, ever since he met you.

And for you, his gaze alone was a molten caress. If you had it your way, you could very well spend the rest of the night in the guest bathroom. In this very moment… 

But it had already been a while in here. You didn’t know how much time you had left before someone came to find you two, so you squeezed his hand on your hip. 

“Get going, cowboy,” you teased, but it was really a command. Ben saw it in your heated gaze in the mirror, meeting his. He slid out of you slow at first, but snapped back in harder. It made you jolt, but also shudder and squeeze him from the inside out. He wished he had the time to do this how he wanted, taking his time, but that was one thing they didn’t have.

He made up for it by taking you hard and deep, putting you through your paces. You held on for dear life while trying not to let your voice raise higher. It was a challenge for you, and you knew Ben liked hearing your voice. But when he hit a particularly good angle, you couldn’t help but cry out a bit. 

He brushed your hair away from your neck and pressed his lips there. He had to bite down to stifle his own grunts. It had you gasping at pain mixed with pleasure. 

He was getting close too; you could feel it in his wilder thrusts, in the tightening of his hand on your hip. You needed just a bit more.

“Ben,” you whispered. He heard the ragged need in your voice. He saw it in your eyes when he met them in the mirror, desperate for release.

“Tell me,” he ground out. 

You took his hand guided it again down to part your folds. He took the hint and once again circled the pads of his fingers against your clit—this time with purpose. Your breath hitched as the coil in your belly finally snapped and released its warmth. 

He gave you a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered as he groaned, and he spilled inside you. 

Oh shit. You still hadn’t gotten your IUD replaced…

Oh fucking well, you thought, as your core still quivered with pleasure. This was worth playing a bit fast and loose with your birth control.

For a while, the sounds of your mingled breaths were almost drowned out by the water running. You turned off the faucet. Then your eyes met Ben’s in the mirror, and you smiled. 

The corner of his mouth raised. He slid out of you, but you kept him close with a hand around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. Part of you couldn’t believe you just fucked your boyfriend in your mother’s house, in the guest bathroom of all places. But you felt all the better for it. 

Or at least, you no longer had a desire for blood. You stroked the arm that still held you upright, more bracing now than restrictive. You felt his seed spilling down your inner thighs, but you couldn’t yet force yourself to move. Your legs were still shaky. 

However, you knew you could rely on the strong pillar of his arms holding you. Ben rested his cheek against your hair, pressing a kiss there.

“You’re beautiful tonight,” he said. 

Your eyes widened with soft shock. When it slowly faded, you bit your lip. Your body shook with quiet laughter as your brows rose high.

“Right now?” you asked. With your dress rucked up and your pantyhose rolled down to your ankles.

“Yeah. Right now,” Ben said. “A fucking sight.” 

And he meant it. 

You could tell, and that warmed you down to your toes. Your smile softened as you rested against him and closed your eyes for a moment.

“You don’t know how glad I am that you’re here with me,” you said. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got some idea,” he murmured, smirking as you once again trembled with a giggle. 

You reluctantly detangled yourself from him to reach down under the sink for a washcloth. Ben let go of your waist, only so he could take the small towel from your hand. You looked up at him in confusion, but he leaned around you to run the cloth under a bit of warm water from the sink.

He then got down on one knee in front of you, and proceeded to clean you up himself. Your eyes widened as you stared down at him. Your breath caught in your throat. 

He’d never done this before. Something about it made you blush. The sheer intimacy of it, probably, of his hand running the warm cloth up your bare inner thighs. His free hand held one of your calves, his thumb resting just under your knee. 

You had to reach for his shoulder to stabilize yourself when the cloth swiped between your thighs, against your sensitive core. It made your lower belly tingle again with a spark of arousal. You breathed in slow and deep before you spoke.

“Not that I’m complaining, but…” you trailed. You weren’t even able to finish your question. 

Ben met your gaze with a raised brow. “What, can’t take care of my girl?” 

It took you a moment, but eventually you smiled. The kind of smile that made your insides warm and buoyant, and your stomach clench.

You had a feeling he’d overheard you and your sister talking earlier. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d eavesdropped with his superior hearing.

Your expression faded a bit when something occurred to you. You tilted your head at him.

“You heard everything my aunt said, didn’t you?” you asked. 

Ben paused a moment, holding the towel against your inner thigh. His lips drew downward as he remembered what he’d heard while trying to concentrate on the baseball game with George. 

“I’m just sayin’!” Trina said. “He might have forever, but you certainly don’t.”

If Louisa hadn’t stepped in when she had, Ben might’ve had to ruin his new suit, if not the evening.

“Seems like having a big fucking mouth runs in your family,” he muttered. 

You snorted. “Yeah, but mine’s endearing. She’s just a bitch, still bitter from her divorce.”

Ben didn’t answer. Though after he finished cleaning you up, he rested and elbow on his bent knee. His free hand dragged up your thigh and over your hip, squeezing soft flesh.

“Yeah well, put her in her place next time, or I will,” he said. His tone was edged, and you gave him a wry look. 

“I’ll try not to give you the chance,” you said. 

“I mean it,” Ben said. His gaze bore into yours, unyielding, even from where he knelt at your feet. He stood to his full height, tucking in his shirt and zipping his pants back up as he went. 

“No one’s got the fucking right to talk about our business,” he said. “And you better not listen to a goddamn word. About me, and sure as shit, not about you.”

A small, sharp breath got stuck in your throat. Just then, you found you had to swallow past a swell of emotion lodging in your throat. 

His hands found their way back to your hips and squeezed gently, but with purpose. You read it in his eyes. 

“You hearing me?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Your aunt was someone who always “meant well.” You had gotten far too used to swallowing your tongue for your mother’s sake. And at the end of the day, you usually knew how to let Trina’s words roll off. You’d certainly had plenty of practice.

But regardless, your heart grew for this man. 

You took his face between your hands, and you kissed him deeply, breaking rule #1.

You took a few more minutes to fix your clothes, your hair, and yes, your lipstick. 

When you two eventually went back downstairs, the table was nearly set. The appetizers and wine remained, along with the plates and silverware. All that was missing was dinner itself. 

“Okay, looks like dinner’s about ready. I’m gonna go and help,” you said. You gave Ben a parting smile and let your fingers run down the back of his arm. He shot you a wink, and one last pat on the ass. 

You had to stifle your squeal, sending him a playfully warning look on your way to the kitchen. You stepped back in to see your mom pouring the cranberry sauce into a serving pitcher. 

“Oh, glad Miss Congeniality could grace us again with her presence,” Trina remarked at the sight of you. 

You gave her a flat smile. “What do you need?”

“We’re serving. Help your mom,” she said, nodding behind her. You wordlessly agreed and went over to Marie, who gave you a curious look. 

“Where were you all that time?” she asked. Louisa looked over with the same question in her eyes. 

“Well, I said hi to Grandpa,” you said. It wasn’t a lie, and technically, nor were your next words. “And then I gave Ben a tour of the house.”

When the fuck is dinner already? Ben thought as he approached the dining table filled with mini quiche, pigs-in-a-blanket, and other appetizers. His stomach was starting to growl something fierce. He was craving real food, but he still grabbed one of the small plates.

While he surveyed the layout of finger food, Great Aunt Silvia sidled up next to him with her cane in hand. Ben noticed her out of the corner of his eye. According to George, she’d had a hip replacement last month. 

“Hey, there,” he greeted somewhat politely, if distracted by adding food to his small plate.  

“Oh, my days. You’re Soldier Boy,” she said in surprise. Her eyes twinkled with delight.

Where’ve you been, lady? Ben thought in annoyance. Oh, that’s right. Passed out in a damn oxy coma.

Before he could respond with something half gracious, he felt a bony hand get a meaty handful of his ass. 

He actually flinched, more at the suddenness than anything else. A pig-in-a-blanket flew from his plate and rolled off the table. 

Ben gave the old woman an incredulous look. What the fuck? 

“Excuse me?” he uttered. 

But of course, she played dumb. And she ducked quick when you came over with the mashed potatoes in large bowl. You set it down on the table, but you noted the grouchy look on his face as he looked past you into the living room. Great Aunt Sylvia waddled away with the help of her cane, back to her nice recliner. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, earning his attention.

“Silvia’s a wily old broad,” he muttered. At the look on your face, however, he felt the need to clarify. “Apparently she got my ass confused with the quiche.”    

You bit your lip, and your eyes widened. You had to stifle a shocked giggle as you glanced past him to your great aunt, who’d taken her usual seat by her brother. You slid Ben a knowing smirk.

“I thought you liked older women,” you teased. 

He scoffed. “Gotta draw the line somewhere. I think ‘hip replacement’ is that line.”

“Not running for the Astroglide, huh?” you whispered in his ear.  

He grimaced, even though he also wanted to laugh. He just shook his head. 

“Jesus Christ, enough.”

You stifled a laugh through your nose and soothed his arm. 

“Here, help us with getting the ham on the table. Maybe we can avoid another member of my family playing grab ass.”

Once Christmas dinner was all set on the dining table, you were practically salivating. You had a hard time deciding on what to try first: the ham, the sweet potato casserole, the cranberry sauce, or stick as much of all three on your fork as you could. 

You went with the latter, and Louisa eyed you with a laugh. 

“What?” you asked with your mouth full. It got Ben’s attention as well.

“You do this every year,” Louisa remarked. “It’s like you forgot how long it takes to get dinner on the table in this house.”  

“I’m freakin’ starving,” you admitted. 

“Yeah? Worked up an appetite, did you?” Ben asked, a bit pointedly, despite the way he sipped at his wine. (And paying you back for that Astroglide quip). 

You shot him a warning look at his audacity.

Louisa seemed to be the only one who caught the exchange, with a suspicious brow raise. 

“So Ben,” Trina began, around a mouthful of ham. Already her voice set you on edge. “What was it like in the ‘40s? You know, with the Nazis and everything.”

You and Ben shared a subtle glance. His jaw clenched. 

Fuuuucking hell, you thought.

From the head of the table, Grandpa George looked over at his eldest daughter with an annoyed glint in his eye. 

“Katrina, do us all a favor,” he said wryly. “Keep stuffin’ your face.” 

You bit your lip against a grin. Louisa shared your same problem, snorting into her Diet Coke. 

Trina looked adequately indignant, but to everyone’s relief, she just pursed her lips and speared at her plate.  

The rest of dinner was interesting, to say the least, with many questions thrown to Ben about his celebrity days. He ate up the attention, just as you thought he would. It seemed your little escapade upstairs loosened him up too. He told his favorite stories, editing the more graphic anecdotes out of some of them, you noticed gratefully. 

The atmosphere only got tense when Ben bit into some kind of casserole Marie made. The texture was soft and stringy with green beans, but there was something unpleasantly sweet, and even crunchy in the middle. Uncooked noodles, maybe? Frankly, he wasn’t sure what he was eating. 

“You all right, hun?” Marie asked him. 

“What is this?” Ben asked, pointing down at his plate with a fork. 

“Ah.” Trina peered at his plate, and then the suspect casserole. “It’s probably not quite right. God love her, but my sister’s no Gordon Ramsay.”

You frowned as your mom’s gaze fell. Her lips drew downwards in disappointment. 

Before you could speak up, Ben’s voice stopped you. 

“You know what,” Ben said. His voice was tight, in a way that told you he might just snap. Your aunt’s questions had gotten more intrusive and annoying over the past hour, too much even for him to let roll down his back. He was used to dealing with shitty press, but Trina was fucking relentless.

Someone better fucking muzzle this bitch before I do it for her. 

The words were about to fly out of his mouth, in a very real threat. Ben only took his belt off in public for two reasons: a good fuck and a good old-fashioned hog tie. Your aunt was about to get the latter. 

However, he could tell by the way you were gripping the edge of the table, you were bracing yourself for whatever he was going to say next. All eyes were on him.

Ben drew in a breath. With every cell of effort left in him, he turned to Marie with a smile. As pleasant as he could manage. 

“I was just trying to figure out what you put in this, because it’s delicious,” he said.

Marie blinked with a bit of surprise, but then, she brightened. 

“Oh…well, it’s just green bean casserole. A bit of butter, some Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup. That classic recipe,” she said.

But she paused, in a way that told Ben that the other shoe was about to drop. 

“…And I just added a few raisins and walnuts this time. For some texture,” she said with a shrug. “You know, something different.”

She smiled at Ben, while he and the rest of the table tried not to grimace. Who the fuck puts raisins in cream of mushroom? That’s just wrong.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said.

Ben offered her a nod, but he had to take a long sip of wine to wash the unpleasant mix of overbearing salt and sweetness down. 

He felt your soft hand squeeze his under the table. When he looked over, he found your subtle, thankful smile. The corner of his mouth raised, however slightly. 

The night ticked on, and Ben subtly checked his watch while he chilled out on the couch. He was at the edge of the festivities now, as your family was exchanging gifts by the modest Christmas tree in the living room. 

He surveyed them all—warm and comfortable with one other as they joked and hugged and talked and laughed. Even Trina looked less irritating. 

Ben felt a bit like an intruder. 

Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever had this. A quiet, family Christmas.  

Though he was a bit surprised when Marie was the first one to walk over to him. She sat down on the couch and offered him two gift bags. One was larger than the other.

“You didn’t have to,” he told her, but she waved him off.

“Nonsense. When I saw this, I couldn’t help thinking of you,” she said. Ben began opening the larger one first. It was a simple, dark blue bag. 

“You might think it’s silly,” she said, folding her hands in her lap in a slightly nervous gesture. “Feel free to return it if you don’t like it.”

Ben pulled out a nice bottle of whiskey. He actually appreciated this one. 

“Oh! That’s from Louisa,” said Marie. 

“Really?” He glanced over and found Louisa sitting on the floor beside you. 

You were busy trying to cut through a present Grandpa George had wrapped with duct tape, just to be an asshole. (He did this to you every year, precisely because it frustrated you so much.)  

But Louisa looked up and met Ben’s gaze, giving him a wry smile and a lazy soldier’s salute. His lips quirked, and he inclined his head in wordless thanks.

“This one next,” Marie prompted him. She tapped on the second gift bag, which was bright green and shiny. 

There he found a leatherbound journal and a set of silver ballpoint pens. They looked expensive. They also reminded him of a set his father used to keep in his desk, in his study. Even the smell of the leather brought him back to that room, filled with books, crisp ink-filled pages, and tumblers of whiskey.  

“I’ve worked in a hospital for over ten years, in the psychology wing,” Marie said. “I see a lot of veterans. Lisa, my friend who’s a nurse? She told me that writing things down can help with memories you want to keep, and sort through the ones you’d rather not.” 

Ben held her gaze for a moment, but it soon fell to the journal. He didn’t really know what to say. For once, he was at a loss for words. 

Mostly because he was irritated. He didn’t need what she was offering, and implying…

Still, it was hard to get mad at someone like Marie. It would be like all those times he’d snapped at his own mother, leaving him feeling hollow inside afterwards. He’d always apologized to her later…in his own way. 

But that was a long time ago.

“Sorry,” Marie said eventually. “I know, you’re too busy for all that. But at least you’ve got the whiskey.”

“Thank you,” Ben said. But the reserved smile he offered her was more genuine than even he expected. The journal and the pens still laid in his lap. 

Marie smiled warmly, and in it, Ben saw your inner softness. The way you cared about your family and your friends, and him…he knew then that it began here.

Marie gave his cheek a motherly pat. Ben allowed it, begrudgingly.

“We’re so glad you’re here, honey,” she said. “I hope you had a good time.”

He was a bit relieved when she finally moved on. She headed over to Louisa, who was opening one of her gifts. You got up off the floor returned to your boyfriend with a wrapped box in your hand. First, you admired his small haul. 

“Look who’s popular,” you noted with a grin. Ben gave you a bemused look and put the gifts back in their respective bags. 

“I’ve got one more for you,” you said, with a teasing smile that made him suspicious. You handed him the box, which was about the size of a large book. The sticker said it was from you, to him.

His brows furrowed. “What’s this?”

You already got him the watch. But at your gesturing, he ripped the green wrapping paper off to find…a photo album. 

“Really, what is this?” he asked. 

“You can’t tell?”

“I know what it is—”

“Well, then open it,” you prodded. You sat down next to him as he started flipping through the album. 

The very first picture wiped the curious expression from his face. It was his mother, crisp in black and white. She was young and beautiful and smiling almost shyly for the camera on a windy day. 

Right beside it, there was one of his parents’ wedding pictures, old and yellowed around the corners. The third was a faded picture of the club where his parents met. His mother had been a singer there. 

You leaned over with a hand on his shoulder. Ben looked over at you.

“What the hell did you do?” Ben he asked. His face was hard to read, but he didn’t look upset. His tone was more resigned.

“I found your stash of pictures under the bed, so I thought I’d put them together for you,” you said. You bit your lip in worry, hoping he would like it. You weren’t sure of his reaction yet.

After a moment, he kept flipping. Next were a few pictures of himself, incredibly young and already with a familiar cocky grin. There was even a rare picture of him and his parents together. He remembered when and where it was taken—at his father’s birthday, right after Ben got kicked out of boarding school. 

He hadn’t looked at these pictures in…hell. It’d been decades. He'd retrieved them from an old storage locker last month, but hadn't gotten around to actually opening up the box. Now, he supposed, he didn't have to.

But the album then skipped ahead, by a lot, because the next row of pictures was unfamiliar to him—ones you must’ve added. 

They were of the Supe Affairs team. One was a group picture Hughie managed to grab with all of you in it. 

There was another right beside it, of Hughie trying to lift Ben’s shield. 

“When the fuck did that little shit get ahold of my shield?” Ben groused.

“No idea,” you said with a smile, and you flipped the page. There was an old school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at backgammon. 

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile. 

Ben lingered on that picture for a moment. He was too engrossed in it to see you glance at him, smiling.

He flipped to the next page, where there was a picture of just you and Ben, sleeping in the jet on the way back from a rare field mission you were a part of. He was still in his supe suit, with an arm thrown around your waist. You were resting on his chest, and both of you were completely knocked out. Ben quirked a smile at that one. 

On that page and the next was a series of pictures from the past few months. He didn’t know this, but you’d been collecting them from your phone and had gotten them developed. 

There was the first time Ben got you to ride a motorcycle with him. You were apprehensive, clinging to him for dear life while he grinned. It had taken him a while to convince you to hop on, but the only thing that worked was finally telling you the truth. 

“You really think for one damn second that I’m gonna let you fall?”

The next picture was one he got of you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You were clearly annoyed, but also amused that he’d surprised you with the camera. Ben now pointed to it.

“That one’s my favorite,” he grinned.

“Shocker,” you said with a chuckle. “Keep flipping.”

He then got to one you took of him. He was sitting out on the balcony, half-dressed with a cigar puffing away. The sun was setting beyond him. You caught his profile as he turned to look at you over his shoulder. 

It was a good memory for you, and some damn good photography skills, if you did say so yourself. 

But there was another picture that drew Ben’s eye. It was one that Annie sneakily took of you and him on a night out with her, Hughie, Kimiko, and Frenchie. After a bit of alcohol and cajoling, you’d managed to get Ben out on the dance floor. You were both dewy with sweat from dancing. The lighting was off because of the darkness of the club. 

But the way he was holding you, looking at you with fire thinly veiled behind his eyes, and the way you were looking up at him, like you’d never been more satisfied than to be right where you were…

It was a damn perfect moment captured in four corners. And as Ben’s finger traced the edge of them, he couldn’t stop staring at what it held. 

Until you leaned in and kissed his cheek. 

“Merry Christmas,” you said. And you hoped it was officially a good one.  

When Ben once again turned his head to look at you, he couldn’t help but reach out and frame your face with his hand. He then leaned in and kissed you, unhurried, but with an underlying passion. 

Delightful heat crawled down your spine. You grasped his collar to keep him where you wanted him. 

Meanwhile, the two of you didn’t realize that the rest of your family was surreptitiously watching the little scene. Trina and Marie shared amused smiles. George was glad to see that you finally seemed happy. Sylvia was, once again, passed out in the recliner.

Louisa’s expression was more reserved…but her eyes softened. Maybe she didn’t have to worry about you so much after all.

And when Ben finally parted from you, he thumbed gently at your chin.  

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said.

You and Ben left your mother’s house with plenty of leftover food and a haul of presents, which you both brought upstairs into your apartment. 

“So, I know there were some snafus, but it was nice, right?” you asked him as you made your way into the bedroom.

Ben was already there at his dresser, taking off his new watch and placing it back in its black suede box for safe keeping. He considered your words with a nod, and a smile you couldn’t see.

“It wasn’t bad,” he said. 

You nodded in satisfaction. That was practically a glowing review, coming from him. 

His gaze found yours in the mirror, those perfectly red painted lips forming a smile as you approach from behind. Your hands travelled through the bows of his arms to unbuckle his belt for him. 

“I know you did me a lot of favors today, but I’m gonna need one more,” you said, with a coy smile curving your lips. “I need your help taking off this lipstick.”

Smirking, Ben turned in your arms and leaned back casually against the dresser. Using his unfastened belt as leverage, you leaned up in your heels and met his lips in a slow, but fiery kiss.

His eyes unconsciously closed as the scent of your perfume once again invaded his nose. It was less powerful by now, but it still clung to your skin like a soft imprint. He liked it. 

After your lips drew away from his, Ben watched you make a show of undoing the small latch on his pants, and then his zipper. He sunk his fingers into the soft waves of your hair, and he gave you a charming grin that once got him starlets and movie deals. 

“Well, I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he said.  

You smirked at that. You didn’t know if fucking you in your mom’s house constituted as gentlemanly behavior, but you’d let that slide. 

And you did some sliding yourself, down his strong thighs and onto your knees. He could take care of you all right, but you prided yourself on taking care of him too. 

AN: And there you have it, folks. 😜 What did you think? From bathroom shenanigans and Christmas dinner to some good old-fashioned gift giving. I think we covered it all! lol

Coming Soon: "Strong As Blood"

The next story I have lined up for the BMD-verse will probably be my last planned one for a hot minute, other than one request I got that I really want to do in the near future (but I haven't written it as of yet).

This next one is called, "Strong As Blood":

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92

[dracossweetprincess]

reassurance | d.m

dracoxfem.reader

request: yes/no

preview: y/n starts feeling insecure the morning after her first time with draco

warnings: insecurity, swearing, mentions of sex and nudity (by the way this is a blurb that i am reposting from my wattpad account, so if you have seen it before please know that it is mine and that i am not copying anybody’s work.)

you woke up under the loving gaze of none other than your boyfriend, draco malfoy. neither you or draco were virgins but you'd both had your first time together last night and it was everything you could have asked for. best night of your life.

but as draco stroked your hair soothingly not so happy thoughts invaded your mind. draco had been with lot's of girls in the past, basically just one night stands. but since he had been with so many stunning girls with hot bodies you were slightly afraid that he wasn't satisfied or pleased with yours.

"good morning gorgeous girl." draco smirked, burying his face on your naked breasts. "morning dray." you replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "how are you feeling? sore?" he asked slightly concerned since he didn't want you in any pain.

"yes but it's a good kind of sore." draco laughed and kissed all over your face. "last night was amazing." he added cheekily. even after being showered with compliments and praise about your body last night, you still weren't convinced but were also scared to communicate about it with draco, afraid that he'd think you were being dramatic.

"what's on your mind, angel?" he asked stroking your cheek and you melted into a puddle under his gentle touch. "nothing draco." you lied, but draco knew better. "y/nnn don't lie to me. you know you can tell me everything, i love you." he reassured.

"it's just- were you satisfied with my- my body last night?" you asked, looking away from him. "was i satisfied? y/n you're fucking ethereal. the most gorgeous girl in the world. where is this coming from?"

"y/n, i'd replace all those girls with just you. i wish i had been smart and got with you in the beginning, you're everything that i could ask for and more." you smiled to yourself at how sweet he was with you, if only everybody knew what a softie draco malfoy really is.

draco slid an arm around your waist, sitting up on the bed  leaning against the headboard, and pulling you to his lap letting your naked chests have skin on skin contact.

"mine, all mine. nobody else's."

a/n: if you enjoyed this fic please reblog it helps so much, love you 💞

[echo-of-sounds]

pregnancy

Small headcanons of how Aizawa, Toshinori, Hizashi, Fatgum, Gang Orca, and Hound Dog would be through your pregnancy.

I don’t write about giving birth (as I’m mildly terrified of doing so) so I didn’t add anything about that. Please don’t ask for me to. And even though I’m not interested in getting pregnant, I think I’d be okay with it if Kugo or Ryo were the father.

EDIT: I love picturing all of these men with little girls. It’s just so cute!

Warnings: uh, pregnancy

Aizawa Shouta

Shouta isn’t one to jump for joy when you tell him. However, you will get to see his handsome smile when he grabs your waist, breathing out a light laugh of happiness as he tightly hugs you. His smile won’t disappear for a while. Every time he glances at you, one simply finds its way onto his face.

It may not be by a whole lot, but his behavior changes. Just a little. When you’re out and about, his hand finds its way to your back or elbow much more often, particularly in a crowd. It’s the paternal instincts kicking in. His favorite cuddling position, laying between your legs with his head on your stomach, becomes harder the farther along you are. He adjusts to laying behind you, keeping a hand on your tummy throughout the entire night.

Shouta hides his worries well. Even the people closest to him have a tough time telling what exactly is going on with him. Sometimes, it’s a good thing. He’s a stable person to lean on. But it’s difficult to deal with when you’re hormonal and emotional. He pushes himself so hard to speak more. There’s no way of him understanding everything you’re going through, but when he opens up, he can tell just how much you appreciate it during the tough times. So he does it near-daily, checking in with each other before bed.

He hates how busy his life is. Well, he’s always kind of hated it. Now it’s worse because his partner’s pregnant, and he’s stuck in a room with screaming children when he should be bringing you to your appointments. Shouta attempts to make up for the absence by heading home every night and helping around the house more. Step in. Explain how you value his help, but also need him to relax. If he gets overworked, that would only stress you more.

Shouta changes his eating habits and fitness routines. He wants you to eat well for yourself and your child. He wants you to keep exercising for yourself and your child. He simply wants your body to be healthy. Don’t grumble because he’ll throw your complaining back in your face when the Lamaze coach explains how important physical health is. But don’t worry, his cute smile makes up for the teasing.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori is starstruck. Too many thoughts flood and fight. He loves children and has always wanted a family. Being able to father one with you is indescribable. And he never thought the universe would grant any of that. On the flip side, his fear is also undefinable. People know who he is now; who knows what’s out there, waiting to expose All Might’s weakness. The rapid thoughts may bring a tear or two. Cup his face and kiss them away, reassuring him that everything’s okay.

The fears follow him throughout your pregnancy. Like all things (with you and him), there are good days and bad days. His emotions ramp-up during your emotional and physically unwell days. He tries his best to push them down to focus on you. But they eventually end up spilling over. It’ll be common for both of you to cry at the end of the day, snuggled together, talking about the future, worries, and anticipations.

In general, Toshinori isn’t that protective. He trusts you and your abilities. Just because you’re pregnant, doesn’t mean you’re suddenly disabled. You can still do things. Although, he does become a bit of a helicopter. Whenever you bend over to pick up a bag, he beats you to it. He swoops the laundry basket from your hands, claiming, ‘You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things,’ despite it not even being ten pounds. He’s just very watchful of your movements.

He’s very active in dieting, doctor’s appointments, and planning. He eats well, so it’s easy for him to aid you in that respect. For doctors, he has quite a lot of contacts and knows many doctors from his time in the hospital. He asks around, only accepting the best for you. Planning, shopping, and setting up the nursery are his favorite parts. He loves choosing the sweetest colors, softest blankets, and, of course, all the adorable All Might onesies, toys, and superhero books he can find. The nursery is set up perfectly.

Toshinori doesn’t admit how incredibly your pregnant body enchants him. It isn’t always a horny, sexual need. It’s about admiring your body and what it’s creating. He just wonders at you. All the time. Sometimes the changes may make you feel insecure. He’s always there to listen and assure you how amazing your body is. If you want cuddles and kisses, he’ll give them with a smile. If you want gentle lovemaking, he guides you onto your back and gives you exactly what you want.

Yamada Hizashi

Expect a loud song of love, a bear hug, and jumping for joy when you tell him. Hizashi loves kids. He thinks they’re amazing and say some of the greatest things. And he’s beyond excited to see their quirk. Of course, it doesn’t mean he’ll love them any less if they’re born quirkless. He just loves imagining a little one with a similar quirk running around your place.

He is all about redecorating and planning. The entire apartment is getting babyfied and rearranged. The nursery will be beautifully painted. He regularly comes home with cute outfits and stuffed animals. Partly, it’s because he’s just so excited. The other part is he wants you to relax through the pregnancy. No stress, pressure, and unnecessary burden on your shoulders. He’s there to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.

Hizashi doesn’t just spoil your unborn child; he spoils you, buying you those pregnancy pillows, your favorite ice cream, driving you everywhere, etc… He just hates how much time his jobs take. He’d rather spend his time with you. To help, he’ll ask for time off of patrols, choosing to be closer with you, physically, mentally, and emotionally, during your pregnancy.

In the later months, Hizashi is all over you. Seriously, he will not leave you alone. He’s very handsy, kneading and licking your swollen, sore breasts, and stroking your belly. Your body, and everything it’s doing, is utterly gorgeous to him. He’ll suck away, gently nursing on your nipple while dozing off to Tv, occasionally switching to the other so it isn’t left needy.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

When you tell Taishiro, you’ll only be able to get out a few words before you’re lifted off your feet and spun around. He smooches all over your face, laughing and cheering about how amazing and perfect and stunning you are. You’ll have to ask to be put down lest you get sick from all his spinning. But his compliments keep coming. They won’t dwindle for a while. There’s just too much love in his body to keep inside.

Whatever you’re craving, no matter if it’s pineapple dipped in ketchup, he gives without complaint. He may try some of your odd combinations. Who knows? You could be on to something new. At the same time, he also watches out for your health. The cravings suck. He understands that. He truly does. But if you ate something sweet/not as healthy for lunch, then he plans a healthy dinner for you. Your body’s going crazy. It needs its nutrients.

Your worries are always taken seriously. It could be the most absurd thing to be anxious over. Tai always listens. His cute smile and never-ending positivity help a ton. Your body and brain are going through a lot. He’ll do his part to validate all your feelings. He talks down the anxieties as you eat pickles on ice cream, making sure you are and feel heard.

Since he works one job compared to the others, he’s able to be with you much more, notably during the hard-to-handle days and at appointments. And he picks up extra chores so you can rest through aches and pains. Any choices you make regarding your pregnancy and birth, he supports. He may not agree with everything, but he loves you, and it’s your body. He’ll always put your comfort and wishes first.

Tai treasured your tummy before. But now, seeing you growing with his child, he’s absolutely enraptured. He places nightly and morning kisses on your belly. When he wakes you up, his kisses trail down to the bump. Every night, he rubs lotion into your tummy, kissing and cooing to his child. It doesn’t matter if you’re only one week pregnant, and it’s just a clump of cells in there. Tai still sings to them.

Gang Orca

Kugo is in disbelief when you tell him. He freezes, staring, hardly hearing your words. Give him five minutes. He’ll process what you said and snap back to the present. Watch out because you’re going to get lifted high into the air and maybe tossed like a father does a baby. He’s just practicing. It’ll only take one or two days for him to slip into paternal mode. It’s damn near instinct for him.

As per usual, he’s a gentle paragon behind closed doors. Throughout your pregnancy, he melts into a puddle of sweet honey. His overall affection skyrockets. His hands and claws are as tender as possible whenever they touch you, doing whatever you need him to: massaging your back and legs, rubbing lotion all over, or brushing your hair. He reassures you through tears. He prepares healthy meals that satisfy your cravings. And he holds you all night, keeping you safe on his chest and in his arms.

Kugo goes to every single checkup and appointment. It doesn’t matter if it’s just an ordinary visit to your primary care doctor; he calls out of work and goes with you. At any ultrasounds, expect a few tears, especially when you hear the heartbeat for the first time. He holds them in until you’re alone. The second the door closes, his forehead is nudging yours as small, loved-filled tears fall. He never thought he’d get a family. Part of him thought he didn’t deserve a family, but you’ve proven that false repeatedly.

The farther along you are, the more he watches out for you. He checks in every morning to make sure you took your medicine and vitamins. He washes you so you don’t strain yourself. If you’re waddling, he offers his arm for support and helps you stand. If your back hurts, he applies a heating patch to your lower back and puts your shoes on for you. If you need it, he can carry you to the car and into where you’re going.

As does everyone, Kugo has doubts about his quirk and abilities. People have always viewed those with mutations differently. And it can affect their health, leading to numerous doctor visits and tests. He doesn’t want his baby to deal with the staring, whispers, self-doubts, and distress he did. To support him, talk in detail about his fears and help him realize he’s never disappointed you or hurt anyone. Kugo’s exactly how he should be.

Hound Dog

Ryo doesn’t have a tail, but you’ll definitely see a little happy wiggly before he hugs you. The following week, he keeps you close as he acts differently: rubbing up against you to ensure you smell like him, touching your nose with his, lapping along your neck, sleeping incredibly close, and occasionally smelling between your legs, licking the air around there to smell better. It’s awkward, almost weird, since it isn’t average ‘human’ behavior. But if you love him, let him do it. Please. Understand his nose works differently. It reassures and comforts him to smell you, checking in to see if anything’s changed.

Ryo gets protective when you’re on your period: When you’re pregnant, it’s so, so incredibly worse. He hovers, grumbling low at those walking by. Others barely hear it. It’s intense enough for you to feel it when he’s behind you. He doesn’t like people running up to you, or startling you, or roughhousing or playing in any way. He’s lenient with children, less with teens. Women get a deep growl and scowl. God help any man that approaches you. You might have to have him wear his Hero outfit’s muzzle until you give birth. Though, that might not help because then he’d be protective of two people.

It’s only the teensiest amount better at home. He makes you rest, almost too much. After work or some time outside, he shuffles you to the couch so you can’t overwork yourself. He’s a pleasant change of pace from his typical gruff self. However, as great as he is at the physical needs, he still struggles with the emotional aspects. You can cry on his shoulder, complain, and talk about your worries all you need to. He’s just a bit clunky when it comes to reciprocating the soft emotions. But he puts all his heart into it, and it’s easy to tell.

Ryo is also one who loves pregnancy sexy. You’re swollen and sensitive, and he loves watching your breasts bounce, maybe even leak a little depending on how far along you are. And since you’re already pregnant, he releases and stays inside. After, he lays behind you, keeping himself deep in you despite being flaccid, just feeling how wet and aroused and full you are because of him. When the heated moment is finally done, he licks you clean, nearly getting drunk off your smell.

[glowingbadger]

Hi! Could you do SFW and NSFW relationship headcanons for Raphael and Hubert, please?

(P.S. I swear I sent this in a few weeks ago but you must not have gotten it. I am mortified at the chance I accidentally sent it to another blog!)

Your timing is incredible- your request was literally the next one on my list haha :3 So no worries, it got to the right place! I'm just still catching up a bit lol. Let's talk Raph and Hubie!

Raphael, Hubert x GN Reader

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Raphael:

- Raphael is such an absolute sweetie as a boyfriend. He's very nurturing and just a healthy level of protective, but he also knows that he's not perfect and is willing to listen to you when you need something different from him, or just to vent. He's also endlessly uplifting, always instinctively looking on the bright side of things and eager to open up that sunny perspective to share with you.

- As we all know, the way to Raph's heart is through his stomach. If you're even a little skilled in the kitchen, you've got an easy in to spending time with him whenever you like. If you're not much of a cook, he's happy to be a taste-tester until you've got it figured out. Though it's not like his palette is incredibly refined, so you might not get the most nuanced feedback.

- It is essential that you meet his little sister's approval- it's practically like courting a single father. Her happiness is his utmost priority, so one day when she mentions off hand that she can't wait for you all to spend time together again, he practically starts tearing up and warmth fills his chest. Knowing that you get along with the other most important person in his life just reaffirms his affections for you a thousand fold.

- His idea of a date pretty much always involves food, and with his energetic and warm personality, those kinds of dates are easy to enjoy. If you suggest other ideas though, while he might not be sure it's his "thing" at first, he'll quickly find something to get excited about and invested in. Besides, when he's with you, he has a hard time caring about anything but watching you just be your wonderful self, all with a wide, goofy smile on his face.

Hubert:

- Hubert quietly dotes on you. His love language is absolutely acts of service. This is largely because he finds it so hard to believe- practically disorienting- that you'd want to be with him of all people. As such, he does everything in his power to ensure that you're provided for. You may not even realize the lengths he's willing to go to for some time, as he has a habit of doing helpful or sweet things for you without your knowledge. Maybe it takes a vaguely threatening "chat" with some disrespectful knave who's been trying to get your attention, or perhaps there's a tear in your favorite shirt that he has sent to be repaired without ever mentioning it. Hubert doesn't seek praise- only your happiness.

- that said... He does absolutely melt when you do praise or compliment him. He does his best to appear stoic, but his face turns bright red when you tell him how lucky you are to be with someone so considerate and conscientious. Funnily, when he's riding high on his adoration for you (whatever you would call Hubert's version of feeling warm and fuzzy), not much changes other than that he's less conversational, appearing exceptionally introspective. The truth is just that he can't stop thinking of you and this bizarre feeling you've nurtured in him.

- he will NEVER admit this and will strike fear into the soul of any who would suggest it- but when others give him romantic advice, he does take note. When Edelgard suggests he have flowers sent to you for no particular reason, or Ferdinand recommends he take you riding through the countryside on a particularly lovely day, he does consider them and possibly even follow through.

- listen. The first time Hubert returns to his quarters from a late night "mission" to see you waiting up for him, struggling to stay awake to greet him and make sure he's okay, he's just... A puddle. He holds you so close and so tight, resting his face in your hair without a word. He's simply so overwhelmed that he should ever be so fortunate as to be welcomed home by someone he loves.

NSFW 18+ v

Raphael:

- Raph is a Big Boy and a Strong Boy, and those two facts are never more relevant than when things start getting heated. He's had one or two prior sexual partners (people from his hometown who came onto him- he enjoyed it well enough, but he's WAY more into it after falling for you), so he generally knows what he's doing, but likes a bit of guidance. He worries a lot about hurting you, but also enjoys showing off his strength and stamina for you- so letting you set the pace tends to work best overall.

- He openly loves it when you compliment his muscles and physique, reminding him of just how big and strong he is compared to you and how easily he lifts and positions you. Hearing it from your lips energizes him and makes him more determined than ever to pleasure you and take care of any and all of your needs. He's a bit clumsy about some of the finer operations involved- but honestly, sometimes it's hot enough just to feel his large and powerful fingers spreading you open. It's hard to lament his lack of dexterity when he can so easily fill you and reach your every sensitive spot at once.

- He's really not much one for power-play, or any kind of spicy roleplay. He simply doesn't see the point. Raphael would always rather just tell you openly how amazing and gorgeous you are as you ride his big, thick cock. You're so small even when you're above him, and he can't help wanting to hold you as your stretched out little hole takes him again and again.

- Raphael can resist cumming for a long time for the privilege of getting to fuck as many orgasms out of you as possible. He's got some impressive stamina. He'll lift and reposition you several times, then very carefully ease his huge member back into you, giving you plenty of time to acclimate to him filling you up from a new angle. There's no question that you'll be satisfied by the time he finally cums- but once he's done, he's done. Raphael cums hard, and a good volume, and once he's ridden out his climax, all he wants is to cuddle you on his broad chest and maybe share a snack, then drift off for a nap together.

Hubert:

- I've talked about some general spicy ideas for Hubie before in the past, so definitely check my masterlist for those (I love this miserable bastard so fucking much-). Overall, I see him as a classic, domineering Dom in the bedroom. Hubert needs a certain level of control over everything in his life to feel even a little at-ease, and intimacy is no exception. It won't take long into a relationship with him for it to become clear that he's happiest and most satisfied when you're a good, docile little pet for him.

- It's not extremely obvious at first, but Hubert's body is very sensitive and very touch-shy, simply due to lack of exposure. He's had a few sexual partners, though largely for pragmatic, political purposes, so the experience of being with you and wanting so badly to be truly intimate with you is completely new to him. Add this to the fact that, at his core, he still believes you deserve so much better than he could ever give you in all things, and you've got yourself a complex over-thinker in your bed. This is part of why dominating you is so soothing to him. When you're his personal needy kitten, he can direct you as he pleases, catering your treatment to his comfort level.

- Hubert gets very invested in the finer details of your submission. He takes great care to select a collar custom made for you, and will manage everything from your posture to your line of sight to when you're allowed to cum. He does not suffer brats; misbehaving will result in literal hours of punishment, and you're lucky if it only amounts to spanking. He's much more likely to tie you, or even magically restrain you on his bed completely exposed (or in a shamefully erotic outfit) and tease your clit/head of your cock until tears wet your eyes and you beg him to be allowed to cum.

- That all said, if you're a very, very good pet for him- or if you're someone a bit more shy or anxious in bed, he is capable of being a very soft and caring Dom. This even surprises him, but he can't help brushing a gloved hand to your cheek as you take his cock into your pretty lips, and he murmurs, "That's right, my dearest, just like that. You're doing wonderfully- just a little longer for me and I swear that I'll satisfy you."

[safetycar-restart]

Hello hello I’m so glad you’re back!!! Soooo I have ventured here today to discuss one of my fave topics: praise & degradation!!!

Okay so: Charles’ praise kink is visible from outer space.. tell him he’s good and pretty and perfect and he will literally just melt into a puddle… even when he’s crying & overstimulated he still just wants to be good and please you, and you make sure to tell him how good he is loooong after the scene is over

Pierre is the opposite- call him a dirty slut and he’s coming on the spot.. Pierre is a Whore and he knows it, he loves being manhandled and degraded and brought to tears, loves being pushed to his knees and told he’s gagging for it, loves being used… but once the scene is done he’s an absolute angel and wants to hear it from you

The others are somewhere on that spectrum I think… (how many can I cover before I run out of space let’s goooooo)

George- the Goodest of Good Boys, will never disobey, just wants to please you, will literally cry if he thinks he’s done something wrong

Mick- loves to be praised when he’s being good but also needs to be punished when he’s done something wrong, won’t forgive himself until you’ve punished and forgiven him, thennn he can enjoy a healthy dose of praise

Lando- Brat with a capital B and doesn’t he know it! Knows which buttons to push and will push them!! He loves being punished & degraded when he’s acting up (call him a little boy and bam! He’s dropped!) but also sometimes just needs to be held and praised for a while (and little!Lando is just a sweetie who should be told this on a regular basis)

Daniel- depends on his mood I think?? Loooves to be degraded sometimes & finds being called a desperate slut/whore/whatever so hot (I mean… it’s not wrong….), degrading him gets him hard in 30 seconds flat, but sometimes (even when he doesn’t know it himself) he needs to be treated softly and reminded how perfect he is

Max- a complicated one and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this!!! I think he’s another who depends on the mood but you have to tread carefully- too much of either and he’ll start to spiral…

I’m sorry this was so long!!! I have a lot to say on this topic!!!! Can’t wait to hear your thoughts -🐬

Ok listen, 🐬 I would straight up die for you. Never apologise for long asks!!! Ever!! I love them so SO much.

I’m only gonna speak about Charles, Pierre and mick here because I don’t want the post to be too long, but I ADORE everything you’ve said here :))

CHARLES:

Yeah for sure, Charles has such a praise kink and he just wants to be good for you. That’s it. That’s all he wants. Just to be your good boy.

I think that Charles would just melt when you compliment him for being such a mess? Like you say, “that’s right, good boy for just doing what I say, no thoughts just be my good boy” or “so desperate for me huh? Good boy”

It’s so fucking good for him because it shows him that he doesn’t need to prove himself to you, he just needs to hand himself over to you and that’s more than enough.

Also, compliment him on day to day things. Like, he makes you coffee or he cleans the house. Non-sexual praise will turn him into a happy little puddle too!!!

PIERRE:

Pierre absolutely loves to be degraded. He wants to be called a whore and made fun of and have you treat him like he’s just a toy. It makes him cum so quickly it’s kind of insane.

But having said that, a lot of it is an act. He wants you to be rough and make him cry and he wants to end up with tears running down his cheeks and just covered in bruises and marks.

But when it’s over? He wants to be cherished and loved and told that he did well. Yeah he’s a slut, but he’s yours. Not his own. Yours. No one else gets to do that. And he gets so happy when you bring that in aftercare, remaining him that he’s yours and he’ll just melt.

GEORGE:

The first time George breaks a rule, he has a full on mental breakdown and convinces himself that you’re going to break up with him the moment you find out.

That’s how you realise that George doesn’t just have a massive praise kink, for him, he has to be good or else he’s not good enough.

So you have to be gentle with George. You have to praise him and never set him tasks that he might actually fail. He just.... he’s your good boy. That’s it.

MICK:

Yeah I agree that mick needs to be punished sometimes. He loves when you praise him, but I think that with mick, he needs to feel that he’s deserved the praise.

He doesn’t want to he called a good boy just for existing. He wants to have done something, to make you cum or do a workout goal you set for him or clean the house. He wants to feel that he’s earned it.

[cafedanslanuit]

sometimes ending a relationship is the only way to help each other. at least that’s what you tell yourself on your way back home to your fiancé.

♡   —   pairing: reiner braun x reader / zeke jaeger x reader (mentioned but not described)

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, suggestive but not explicit, cheating, angst, canon compliant, toxic relationships (not romanticized)

♡   —   a/n: heavily inspired by miley cyrus’ ‘angels like you’, hence the title.

♡   —   length: 2.2k

♡   —   masterlist

Liberio at night was never a pretty sight.

As you walked home, you noticed all the small details you never took the time to see. The puddles of sewer water on the streets, the stench of urine in the corners close to bars and the sound of rats running around, too afraid to come in the light. Your thighs hurt every step you gave and you couldn’t ignore the burning sensation between your legs. Memories of grunts and your nails digging on a man’s back flooded your mind, making you shake your head in a vague attempt to get rid of them.

You knew well you couldn’t ever get rid of them.

You thought of everything that led you to Zeke’s office late that night. Of course, it was about delivering some documents that could have been delivered the next morning and staying for a cigarette even if you had quit smoking years ago. And before you knew it, Chief Jaeger was fucking you on his desk, your legs around his waist, his forehead pressing to your shoulder and his hands grabbing your ass as he roughly pounded against you.

You wished there was a part of yourself that truly believed you didn’t know this was coming, that you hadn’t let your skirt rile up when you crossed your legs neither smiled bashfully at Zeke’s compliments about how beautiful you looked that night. You wished there was a part of you that was really attracted to him, a part of you that really wanted him to fuck you seneseless and leave you a sweating mess over his desk as he pulled up his pants.

But you knew better than that.

You opened the door to your small house, not bothering in turning on the lights. Maybe this was for the best, you told yourself. It was the best decision you could make. Well, it had to be, or else you had broken a man without a purpose.

On your way to your bedroom, you noticed a new framed photo on the wall, making you stop in your tracks. You remembered taking it a little more than a week ago and you figured it must have been delivered while you were gone. Reiner, his mom and you were smiling at the camera and if you hadn’t known both Brauns as much as you did, you could have sworn their smile was genuine.

Your eyes fixated on Reiner’s soft expression, one of his hands on your shoulder and the other one over his mom’s. He had barely talked to you since returning from his long mission in Paradis, refusing to answer any of your questions regarding how he was feeling or what had happened during the years he was gone. Reiner had never been one to share too much. You still remembered how long it took him to tell you the truth about his absent father on an Autumn afternoon, his face pressed on your thighs, his shoulders shaking violently as he told you the truth that had been tormenting him for years. You were twelve, just one year older than him, yet you listened and ran your fingers through his blond locks, trying to comfort him the best way you knew. Four years passed by and every night you would pray for his safety and that he would return to you. You knew he was a warrior and that he was good at what he did but you couldn’t fight the feeling that you just wanted him to rest. 

The first time you saw Reiner after his mission in Paradis, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. No matter how tightly Reiner held you, assuring you he was in fact there and that it wasn’t another one of your dreams. He was hurried by his mother to leave you and go back to his home, which he did, not before asking you to meet him at your spot at midnight.

Reiner was your first kiss. And how happy you were that you had waited for him.

As short-lived as your romance was before he had to leave for war again, you couldn’t help but notice the weight over his shoulder had only increased. Only this time, he wouldn’t talk about what he saw or experienced at the island. You tried to be understanding, even if it pained you to see his disassociated eyes look at the horizon whenever he was too much in his head.

Before Reiner went to war, he promised he would marry you when he got back. You had smiled brightly between tears and told him you would wait for him, no matter how long he took. Both of you kept on your promises, with him buying a small house inside of Liberio just for the two of you and you organizing a small but lovely wedding that would happen in a few months.

That was supposed to happen in a few months.

Now you wondered where it was that you lost him. Had a part of him died in Paradis? Had it been the war that had finally sent him over the edge. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that the Reiner sleeping on your bed wasn’t the boy who had cried on your lap anymore.

Not having enough with dancing around your questions about his feelings, he also expected you to act like he wasn’t having nightmares every night. That you didn’t see him sitting up with a panicked expression, covered in sweat. Whenever you tried to reach for him, he would elude your touch, not even caring to acknowledge your questions about what he had dreamt about or how you could help.

He hadn’t shared a word with you after coming back home from your engagement celebration. Even if the whole afternoon he had his arm around your waist and would press kisses on your forehead and temple at any moment, it all went away when he stepped inside your new home.  You still remembered the knot in your throat from when he refused your offer to have some tea on your balcony, just the two of you. Reiner turned to leave so quickly he didn’t notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn’t know what happened on that island and you probably would never know but you were sure the man who you had been sharing a bed with wasn’t Reiner anymore.

Your eyes looked at Mrs. Braun in the photo, a sour taste filling your mouth. Even if her smile was gentle, you couldn’t easily forget that only a few minutes before the photo, she had told Reiner you were just an orphan trying to profit from his warrior status and that he should break the engagement, that a promise he made when he was sixteen meant nothing. Reiner’s eyes met yours for a brief second and just when you thought he was going to say something to defend you, he lowered his head, continuing to listen to his mother’s yells while she pretended you were not in the same room.

You took the photo off the wall and placed it face down on the table.

Resuming your steps, you stepped into your bedroom. Reiner was sound asleep on your bed, the sheet not big enough to cover his brod, bare shoulders. For a minute, you just watched him sleep, taking in everything you had loved for years about him. From the way his brow creased to the small mole next to his ear, to the way his hair looked when it was messy. You hated the way his image made you smile even as you were about to lose him for good.

Taking a deep breath, you turned the lights on. Reiner’s light sleep was evident when he started blinking a few seconds later, a confused look on his face until his eyes met yours.

"I fucked Zeke tonight."

A truth. You thought it was always easier when you start with one. Reiner stayed still for a moment, his still confused mind trying to process your words. You watched him in silence, waiting for his response. He was never violent so you weren’t afraid but you knew that night everything was going to change.

Reiner passed one of his hands across his hair, letting out a long sigh.

"Okay."

You furrowed your eyebrows. You opened your mouth and then closed it, not believing you had heard him correctly.

"Okay?"

"I just want to sleep," he exhaled, laying his head on the pillow once again and closing his eyes. You took some steps further until you were standing next to him.

"Reiner, I fucked Zeke Jaeger in his office an hour ago."

"Yeah, you just told me," Reiner muttered, his eyes still closed.

That’s when it hit you. You took the sheets covering his body and pulled them away hastily, forcing him to open his eyes.

"Do you really not fucking care!?" you spat, your voice breaking at the end.

For a few seconds, Reiner remained quiet, not an inch of his body moving. You were breathing heavily, eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall. It was all coming down to this and a part of you still couldn’t believe this is how you were going to say goodbye. Was he truly the man you had loved for the last ten years? Did you really mean so little in his mind? You watched him sit up on the bed, his honey eyes finally facing yours.

"Of course I care that my fiancée slept with the Chief. Of course, I care, fuck— I hate it. I fucking hate it and I wish I could stop imagining it happening inside my head,” Reiner said, gesturing towards his temple, his voice hoarse and pained. “Because it is. Believe me when I say I keep replaying those thoughts in my head, over and over and over,” he hissed, his lips forming a thin line. “But why— why would I feel entitled to say anything when I'm the one that's been fucking things up with you?" he asked, his palm hitting his chest forcefully.

The tears you promised not to shed were already falling from your eyes, your face twisting in a scowl.

“We're not good for each other. We haven’t been for a while, Reiner. So please, please, lets just— we need to let each other go,” you pleaded.

“It’s not like that, we’re not— fuck,” Reiner sighed, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I am, I just— I can’t,” he choked.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him in a softer voice. Tentatively, you put your hand over his shoulder, rubbing it gently. You saw his body melt under your touch, his left hand immediately reaching for yours in search for comfort. “I’m not what you need right now, Reiner. We’re only hurting each other by playing this long game of pretend. And… I’m tired. I’m so tired,” you cried.

His hand squeezed yours in a vain attempt to calm you down. It only increased the sobs, making you remember all the times he had taken your hand underneath the table whenever he noticed you were anxious in a social gathering or kissed each one of your knuckles, making you laugh even when you had just been crying.

“Guess your mom was right when she told you I wasn’t good enough for you,” you chuckled sadly.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, taking your hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away from his, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“But it’s true. I— I fucked up. I fucked up big time, Reiner. And now… now we’re done,” you breathed out, looking at your shoes. “We can’t just keep pretending everything is fine when—"

"Let's go to sleep.”

You choked on a sob, your eyes snapping back to his. “Reiner,” you whispered.

"I promise we'll talk in the morning. Just come here" he said, shifting on the bed to make space for you. You looked at the sheets, your body not moving a fraction. “Please,” he almost begged, his voice making your heart clench in pain.

You held on his powerful gaze, lips parted in dismay. Both of you stayed in silence for longer than you could register and even if he wasn’t talking, you could recognize the utter necessity of having you close in his eyes, even if he was aware of the lie you had fabricated together. You finally yielded and you looked away, nodding idly as you wiped the tears off your face. Your body and mind had surrendered one more time, just like you told yourself you wouldn’t.

"Let me take a shower first,” you muttered, taking off your coat.

"No," Reiner quipped. You turned to him, confused, and now he was the one to avoid your gaze. "I don't care, just... let's go to sleep.”

Kicking your shoes off, you got into bed with him, his arms around your body feeling so foreign you felt yourself on the verge of breaking down once again. Reiner buried his face on your neck, pretending he didn’t recognize the strong male perfume lingering on your skin, instead massaging the plush of your hips with his thumb softly.

"I love you," he whispered. Your eyes filled with tears once more.

"I love you too," you mumbled back.

You knew you both meant it.

Maybe that's what hurt the most.

[abstract-crossverse]

How bout a Marshall x nature-loving reader? They, the reader, loves the outside. Flowers, vines, moss, the stars/moon, etc. But, they have social anxiety, so their current only lover/friend(up to you) is Marshall

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We Met In The Garden" [Marshall(GW oc) x Nature-loving Reader, headcanons]

When he first saw you at the entrance of the maze, the air was knocked out of his chest

You were wearing [clothing of your choice] with some nature-related accessories (vine gloves, leaf hair clips, whatever you want)

And the way you were looking around at the bushes and overall garden, with big fascination and awe for who took care of the garden so well

And even complimented the gardener out loud??? O-ho-ho, call me Santa, cuz you already have him around your fingers

Unfortunately for him, he's also a hopeless romantic—which is one of the reasons he stays in the gardens so much—and fantasizes a lot about having a lover a LOT

Girl, guy, outside or in-between, as long as you're a good partner, he doesn't care

I'm not self projecting I'm not self projecting I'm not--

He was tripping in his little world for a while cuz when he tuned back in, you were about to open the gates to the nightmare

Not wanting to lose yet another great person to this world, he called out for you

"u-uhm- excuse me, Mx.! Mind if you stick around for a while longer?"

You looked back to see the stone statue stepping down from his pedestal, anxiety growing on your chest, you accepted his request seeing as he meant no threat to you

For the next few hours you got to know Marshall better, gentle and patient with you, not to overwhelm you with, well, his very being and the social activity you two had going on

You spent your time walking among the garden, he told you about every plant you took fascination in, along with memories of his related to those, and if you were comfortable, you could tell him of your memories related to the plant

You stargazed too, he has a very vast knowledge of stars and constellations and stuff, he used to be an astrologist back in life so be ready to hear him ramble about constellations and the moon

Eventually, you got comfortable and dropped questions and small facts you knew now and then, and he was more than happy that you engaged

You guys were having so much fun that you didn't even notice some of the other statues spying on you, Henry and William telling everyone to keep away from you and Marshall while Apollo and Colin kept Bennet from jumping at you

But he knew you had to complete the nightmare to leave, but he didn't want you to get hurt by his comrades or leave him

So he kindly but kind of threatening told the other statues to back off and kind of... Uuuuh- how do I say this- fucking YEETED APOLLO AND MAXWELL INTO A FUCKING WALL AS A WARNING

Ofc he would never do such a thing to the ones just as Henry, William, Ezekiel, or any of the good ones but he's not afraid to suplex a mother fucker into space for you

They did as they were told, but couldn't also disobey Malak so they just eased up on the chasing, staying still for longer after you took your eyes off them and stuff, yeah

Eventually, you got the ring and all that boss fight that happens in the enhanced version happens and you're still alive

Marshall helps you dodge everything once you're out of the main maze, and escorts you to the portal as the giant statue behind the manor throws axes at you both

He gives you one final hug and a kiss on the hand, a farewell, and sends you off

You hand over the ring piece to Bierce and goes to a corner of the room in sadness

Bierce actually feels guilty for once and tells you the nightmare didn't actually collapse, she just said that so you'd get out faster

You're able to visit Marshall in better terms now that Malak's focusing on having other monsters after you

He couldn't be happier about that

Bonus:

General Marshall dating hcs

This man has not received a single compliment nor praise in his life, so give him some and you have a Marshall puddle on the ground

He's kinda awkward on pda aside from arm hooking, so if you hug him or just, gently hold his hand he WILL melt and this is a threat /j.... /Hj

Once he gets the hang of pda, he'll always do it as long as you let him and are comfortable with it

Tends to ramble a lot, either to anyone willing to listen or to himself, so prepared to be bombarded with info about his passions if he gets into a rambling session

Please just listen to him, no one ever bothered to listen so seeing you actually interested or just listening to him makes his non-existent heart feel fuzzy

Even if you have no idea of what he's talking about but just like the sound of his voice

Since he has a bit of moss growing on him, he avoids touching you too much without his gloves so you don't have to touch moss

Please help him take some of the moss he can't reach off, its kind of uncomfortable and he wants to hug you

Can't take off the moss on his hands though, it's inside the cracks and it grows fast once you try to take it off

Maybe you can take that off with can REALLY get in those cracks

He likes kissing you, rock doesn't really feel nice against lips so unless you're willing to kiss him on the lips, then he'll give you forehead kisses and related

He loves you a fucking lot, is willing to fight the world for you, and will NOT hesitate to suplex anyone if they even try to touch you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[megsironthrone]

Flustered and Admired

Based on this request:  It’s been so long since I’ve seen a notification from you. I dunno what’s up with Tumblr lately for me. I hope you’re doing well. Could is possibly request a fem reader sparring with Brienne. The reader saying some flirty remarks that fluster her or something along those lines.Big scary woman make head empty and that’s all I can say about that lol from @lycorsa​

and this one:  Do you also write for Brienne? If so how about a plot where the reader is insisting to be trained as a fighter by her? Brienne gains some confidence due to the reader and Podrick admiring her so much. But when the reader loses a fight Brienne’s I-will-crush-anyones-head-who-touches-thwm mode is triggered?

Here you are, lovelies! *As always, familiar characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: Mentions of sparring so mild violence, but mostly fluff. (and my horrible flirting. Sorry, lovelies)

Pairings/Characters: Brienne of Tarth x reader

You hadn't meant for this to happen. You hadn't meant to develop feelings for the statuesque warrior. She just grabbed your attention and kept it. The longer you were around her, the more your feelings grew. That should have told you to run the other way. With the world in the state it was in after the Great War, love had no place yet. But did you do that? Of course not. You did the complete opposite.

         "Would you train me?" you asked her. She stared at you for a moment. "You want me to train you?" You nodded and smiled. "Yes. You're the captain of the Kingsguard for a reason, Brienne. You are the best warrior alive. And Podrick speaks highly of your abilities."

         Brienne blushed and you swore you'd never seen anything more adorable. That wasn't a word you would normally use to describe her, but with that pink tinting her cheeks, that was precisely what she was. "I suppose I could train you," she said slowly. You beamed at her. "Thank you. You won't regret it." With that, you ran off, leaving Brienne staring after you.

         That was the beginning of things. It didn't take you long to get comfortable with Brienne. Not the training, of course. That was intense, though you could make it playful when you wanted to which you did. Often. You very quickly learned that Brienne was easily flustered but not angered so you would always find some small thing to compliment her on whenever you trained.

         And you flirted. Boy did you flirt. "Good form," she praised. "I could say the same for you," you replied with a wink. Her cheeks turned red, making you laugh. You loved how flustered Brienne got, especially when she still didn't seem to make the connection that you were slowly falling in love with her.

         Even though nothing in your relationship with Brienne changed, you could see a change in her. There was a confidence blooming in the woman that hadn't been there before. Brienne hadn't had many people look at her the way you and Podrick did. Although you looked at her a bit differently than Pod, you both admired her strength and resilience. It gave Brienne a sense of self-worth she hadn't had before. Unfortunately, not everyone agreed with you about the warrior.

         A lot of the other knights weren't happy to serve under Brienne. Despite the fact that she had more than proven her worth, they weren't pleased that she had been knighted above them. Jealousy was a strange thing and it made them say things they shouldn't have. Especially in front of you. One day, you'd finally had enough.

         "What did you say?" you asked one particularly loud complainer. He repeated himself and you grew angry. You knew you shouldn't have tried to fight him. You weren't ready, but you weren't about to stand there and let this man insult Brienne's honor. Without giving it a second thought, you pulled you sword, silently challenging the man. He accepted.

         You were outmatched. You knew that, but that didn't stop you from trying. The man and the other knights laughed at your attempt. It didn't take long for you to end up in the dirt with the man's sword pointed at your throat. "What is going on here?!" you heard Brienne's voice snap. The man, for all his boasting, looked scared out of his wits. He lowered his sword, allowing you the chance to spring back up to your feet.

         Brienne turned her blue eyes to you. "He insulted you," you explained, "I wouldn't let it go unanswered." Brienne turned to him. "I don't care what you think of me. Your opinion means nothing. But you will NOT accept a challenge for my honor with someone else. If you wish to insult me, fine. Then challenge me." Brienne gripped the hilt of her sword, ready to unsheathe it if necessary.

         The knight glanced between you and Brienne. It was clear he was trying to decide if he was stupid enough to take on Brienne's challenge. Brienne merely stared him down, waiting patiently. Eventually, he decided to take her on. After all, if he won(doubtfully), he could easily take her place as Captain of the Kingsguard. He raised his sword again, taking a stance he hoped would be enough to take on his commander.

         You watched in awe as Brienne and this knight engaged in a graceful dance of swords. The clashing of the steel practically echoed through the courtyard. You couldn't move. You could hardly breathe as you watched Brienne. You weren't afraid. Far from it. It was as if every thought just disappeared from your head when you saw just how fierce and strong the woman was.  

         You hadn't even noticed the fight ended until Brienne was in front of you once again. "Are you alright?" You stared at her with your mouth unable to form words. You gave a little nod of your head. "T-That was-" you cut off as your brain tried to find the right word, "Incredible. Amazing!" Brienne gaped at you. "Are you sure you're alright? You're acting like you hit your head." You laughed.

         "I'm fine. I just…you're wonderful." Brienne continued to stare at you for a moment before she chuckled softly. She shook her head. "You are strange. You spend all your time training making these comments that, if I didn't know better, I would say were rather flirtatious. Yet now you can hardly say a word."

         You blinked in surprise. "So you did notice?" Brienne rolled her crystal blue eyes. "I would have to be an idiot not to, Y/N. I simply didn't know if you were joking or not. It's happened before," she told you sadly. It was the first time you'd heard her sound broken. You instantly shook your head. "I wasn't. I've never been good at outright telling people my feelings. Flirting was easy. Telling you that I've been falling in love with you isn't."

         Even though you were outside, the air suddenly seemed too thick to breathe. That wasn't what you had meant to say at all. She just had a way of making your brain stop functioning for small moments at a time. The look on Brienne's face was mixture of disbelief and surprise. "Are-Are you telling me the truth?" she asked quietly. Your heart broke a little. Despite all the confidence you and Podrick had instilled in her, she still didn't believe someone could love her?!

         You slowly drew a little closer to her. "I have never lied to you, Brienne. It's out in the open now. I have very strong feelings for you. I think…I think I'm in love with you. You can do with that what you will, but know this; no matter your feelings for me, you are worthy of love, Brienne. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are strong and courageous and fierce. Never let anyone make you feel like you don't deserve love and respect."

         It was your turn to feel flustered when Brienne suddenly grabbed you, pulling you closer to her. You were grateful she wasn't wearing her armor at the moment. The force she'd used would have bruised you if you had hit armor. You felt your entire body heat up at the contact. Brienne looked into your eyes for a moment, like she was deciding on what to do next.

         You tentatively wrapped your arms around her waist and nearly melted into a puddle when you felt Brienne's lips press a kiss to your hair. Even if nothing else happened between you, you would gladly relive this moment over and over for the rest of your life. This was your moment of pure, albeit flustered, perfection.

(a/n: I hope you enjoyed it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @etherealpotter​ @line-viper​ @frozenhuntress67​ @cd1242​ @smalltownbigheart​ @gruffle1​ @igotmadskills​

[thetorturerwrites]

Welcoming Work

Summary:  “I’m…” You faltered, trying to find a way to explain what was happening to someone who likely had no idea about any of this. But he nuzzled you like a puppy, and your smile led the way. 

“It's welcoming work.”The way he sat up straighter, moved your hair to one side so he could see better, and leaned into you, threatened to melt you into a puddle of goo.

“I need to welcome a new city,” you said. “New job. New apartment. New opportunities and friends.”

Author’s Note: My favorite slut is at it again, this time with a little woo thrown in. 

Also:   The contents herein come with facets of my own witchery and practice. If this doesn't line up with your practice, don't come for me. All paths are inherently personal, and I'm not gonna argue mine.

A bit of sex, a bit of fluff, a bit of crafting.

***

♪ Be my sister, sister of the moon   Some call her sister of the moon ♪

You sang under your breath as you walked. Fleetwood Mac always opened craft days. The slightly mystic sound calmed you, centered you to a place to begin. As the day wore on, the soundtrack would become progressively more intense. Santana. Florence + The Machine. Music was the gateway, the shot to start the race.

You’d planned today for a month, checking your calendar and your pantry and stock for ingredients. Everything aligned perfectly, right down to the day of the week. Saturday, so you could get yourself feeling good all day and be genuinely ready later and not scrambling to throw it all together.

It was this plan that had you knocking on Adam’s door at 1 in the afternoon.

“Hey-eee?!” His smooth voice tilted up a bit at the end, surprised to see you in his hallway. “What’s up?”

You had no idea why he called you kid, nor did you have any idea why it felt so good that he did.

Adam Sackler was one of the first people who befriended you here. You worked part time as a stagehand for the theatre company he acted for. He smiled a lot which you really liked. It lit up his face; and when his hair was pushed back and out of the way, his ears wiggled with every smile. He had an infectious personality.

In addition, he was one of the most attractive mother fuckers you’d ever seen in your life. All broad shoulders and muscles. He was, simultaneously, a gigantic goofball and a walking aphrodisiac.

“Hey, Adam!” You gave him a friendly wave but shook your head when he opened the door for you to come inside. “I won’t be long. Wanted to talk to you about something real quick.”

He was also an unabashed sex fiend who flirted shamelessly. You lost count of how many suggestions he’d made about shagging you silly, and you couldn’t remember anybody ever winking at you in your life, but he did. He often pointed to the bathroom door with an indecent brow lift, silently asking you if you wanted a quickie. Without fail, you snickered and shook your head.

You probably should have turned him in for harassment, but part of you knew he’d stop the instant you said don’t. And the rest of you decided that you liked the way all his comments, queries, and suggestions made you giggle. You needed happiness these days.

“Shoot.”

He leaned on the door, casually looking like the world’s largest lollipop, and you worked hard to not ogle him. It was decidedly not a simple task.

“You know all the comments you make about quickies in the back of the theatre or walking me home at night to make me breakfast?” You canted your head because he shifted uncomfortably. His face darkened a bit, and you knew it was because he expected to be chastised. “I’d like to take you up on that.”

Interest flitted across his handsome features, and he took a step towards you.

“Is that right?” He smirked and tried to tug you into the apartment by the strap of your bag. “Think I can make time for you, kid.”

A wide smile broke across your face. You couldn't help it. The absurd things he said entertained you. He was the most adorable idiot you’d ever known.

“Ah, I was actually thinking later tonight. Would that work for you? I have some things to do this afternoon.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had things to do, but you were more interested in the thing's timing. You had an agenda; and as appealing as an afternoon in his bed sounded, you were sticking to it.

“Why now?”

His question gave you pause. It was a fair question, but you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to answer truthfully. He might think you bizarre and not worth it. Don’t fuck crazy, as they say.

“I’m dealing with some things,” you said. “I could use the boost. Think you could come by around 8?”

♪ Dark lady laughed and danced and lit the candles one by one   Danced to her gypsy music 'til her brew was done ♪

The knock at your door came at 7:45. Entertained, your lips twitched because he never struck you as the punctual type. It could almost be construed as eager.

Inside of two minutes, you had your ‘hey kid’ and the single carnation he brought for you. You twirled it in hand and smelled it with the coy look you knew always won cute points. And then he was in your apartment, mischievous eyes looking you up and down before surveying everything beyond you.

“Holy fuck, your place smells amazing.”

You smiled at the compliment, tucking the carnation into one of too many glass jars you had on the counter top. You pointed to the large pot of simmering cider. Your apartment smelled of fruit, cloves, and bourbon. He wasn’t wrong; it was amazing. Beyond that, the pleased sound he made had your insides buzzing.

“Are you hungry?” You ducked out of the kitchen to finish the task he interrupted. “I finished supper a bit ago, but there’s still some left if you are.”

Finally looking away from the yumminess on your stove, he watched as you circled your place, striking match after match. Your apartment glowed with candlelight; pillars and votives adorned anything with a flat surface. It gave the room a warmth, the type of succulent vibe that always made you feel sensual and open.

“You tryin’ to romance me, kid?”

It wasn’t condescending or belittling. It was an appreciative joke. The grin on his face said he was poking fun at you, but the crinkle of his nose and eyes said he liked it. The lick of his lips said he also appreciated your flowy, nearly see-through linen trousers and little white tank top.

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head. Flashing eyes accompanied a little twirl of your fingers. “It’s magic.”

Your sassy quip seemed to delight him because he pushed off of the stool he’d claimed and crossed the room like a panther. There was something hunterish about him, and it was oh so tempting. It occurred to you, for the millionth time, exactly how tall he was when he curled down around you. His long arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush. His lips found the crook of your neck, and he nudged your earlobe with the bridge of his nose.

“Magic, huh?” He began a wholly distracting trail of kisses along the side of your throat. “You smell good, too.”

“Mhm.” You splayed your fingers across his pectorals, enjoying the steady beat of his heart. “You’re gonna help me.”

He lifted his head to look at you, curiosity clear in his arched brow and pursed lips. 

You swallowed, gulped more like. Time to jump off the bridge. You didn’t want to lie to him, but your path wasn’t exactly mainstream. Most people thought you silly or devil-driven. But you couldn’t raise the type of energy you wanted on a lie.

“Oh, yeah?” He cocked his head to one side, deliberating. “What am I gonna do?”

You wanted him to make you vibrate, to fill you up with that endless jubilation he always had. You wanted him to raise enough power that the top of your head would blow off. You wanted the mundane world to fall away and the inner world, where courage and spirit and wisdom lay, to rise up and work.

“Well,” you sighed dramatically, “if you suck at sex, I’m gonna be mad because that’s pretty much it.” Again, you twirled your fingers around to mark the atmosphere. “Gonna raise some energy.”

You’d never been shy about your craft, but you were careful with it. Too many times in your past, you’d felt mocked, chastised, outright chased out of homes. The name calling never affected you, but losing friendships and partners was hard. Something about Adam, though, told you he was up for pretty much anything.

“Hm.” He pondered it for a moment before nudging the tip of your nose with his. “Soft and slow energy or quick and rough energy?”

“Yes.” You nodded, cheeky and matter-of-fact. “But there is one thing I’d like to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t say mean things to me, ok?”

Adam’s predilection for dirty talk was legendary. The people he’d already slept with at the theatre gossiped about it regularly.

“I’m not a slut or a whore.” You furrowed your brow because it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t mind it, really, but tonight needed to be specific. Good vibes. “At least not tonight. Ok?”

His fingers slithered under the hem of your tank, seeking skin. He leaned into your space and kissed a slow line from your chin, along your jaw, to your ear, where he whispered naughty things.

“Already thinking about fucking me again?”

With his arm about you so securely, he stretched you onto your toes as he straightened up to his near full height. And when he dipped his mouth to yours for the first time, you knew you made a wise decision. His lips were soft but sure, and he tasted like honey, as you suspected. The sound you made when his tongue slid along yours made him squeeze you a little tighter.

He sunk into it; you could feel it. His shoulders dropped, his fingers curled into your flesh, and his even breath blew across your cheek. His kisses were intoxicating, hungry but unhurried. He licked at the roof of your mouth and nipped at your lower lip. You slid your hands along his shoulders, up the back of his neck, and into his hair. He was solid, but slightly vulnerable in the best way.

Bending down to hook his hand under the crook of your knee, he wrapped your leg around his waist and hoisted you up as though you weighed little more than a feather. Long strides had him at the foot of your bed before he’d finished anchoring your other leg to his middle. You were never so grateful for a studio apartment with its no-wall, no-room layout.

“Hold tight, kid.”

He murmured it against your mouth, and you nodded against his in return. You cinched your thighs tight, which made him groan ever so softly, and bore your own weight for his shoes, socks, and belt to come off without him ever setting you down. Crawling onto your bed, he eased you to the mattress, knelt upright, and peeled off his shirt. A bite to your lip kept you from salivating all over yourself at the sight of him, his muscles, and that extraordinary ‘v’ that disappeared into his waistband.

He didn’t peel them off, but he did pop the button on his jeans to make a little more room for what you expected was something long and thick. Short-circuiting that thought, he leaned down over you and gave you the kind of kisses you’d only seen in movies. He was a staggeringly good kisser, making you squirm more and more with the curl of his tongue and the teasing scrape of his teeth. When he bit your shoulder, though, your breath stopped. Abruptly overcome, you felt like you might combust.

And just like that, you found the thing you needed.

He didn’t miss it and tested the theory by another bite at your pulse point. Your fingers curled into his bicepses, digging in as you whined and tilted your face away to give him more flesh. His sweet mouth turned ravenous, seductive kisses turned demanding. He gripped your chin and turned your lips to his once more, swallowing your gasps and whimpers.

He dragged his nails along your sides viciously as he pushed up your tank, leaving tracks and eliciting a long moan and the rise of your shoulders into his. Your core ached, your pussy throbbed, but you’d willingly drown in this foreplay, the middle energy between beginning and end. It was heady and erotic and tantalizing.

Adam’s teeth found purchase once more at the top of your breast, and he gave you more and more and more. The longer he explored you, the more fierce the bites became. At the peak of your breast, he got enough of a grip to pull it up and away from your torso, only relenting when you pushed at his chest. He flicked your sensitive nipples with his tongue until your hips bucked and twisted. He treated your ribs on both sides to the impressive span of his wide jaws and a bulldog bite. A satisfied rumble reverberated in his chest at your moans.

As with your shirt, he scraped flaring lines into your skin as he dragged down your pants; and as soon as you were completely bare, he attacked your thighs. He sucked the delicate flesh of each into his mouth good and deep.

You’d be riddled with bruises tomorrow, and it was incredibly worth it.

Gripping the sheets, you heaved for breath, staring at the ceiling but not seeing it. You’d expected filth from his lips, the sort of lewd banter you’d heard about. But this was too good for words, too animalistic. He drummed you up into a frenzy with his teeth and strong fingers. You floated on a pheromone high, watching as he pushed your leg up over his shoulder, but the way he bit and tugged on your meaty outer labia had you shot up and into your wits on a yelp.

You swore and rocked and tangled trembling fingers into his dark hair. It was the ideal amount of too much; and when he looked up from your pussy, you hissed at the salaciousness in his hazel eyes. You missed what he said because he was too many things. Mouth-watering and divinely sexy and utterly masculine. His lips grazed your wrist, sweeping words you didn’t give a damn about against the delicate flesh and easing you back down by his grip on your rib cage.

He delved into your sticky cunt, his tongue painting a wide stripe from bottom to top that had you shivering. Brazen and needy, your knees parted wide; your hips danced for his carnal kisses. Laid back for him again, he stole another harsh bite and sucked your clit until you nearly begged.

But he played you like a violin, keeping you suspended in want, not allowing you to tip over that edge.

Delirious, riding the endorphins and electricity in his fingertips, you vaguely registered that he shucked his jeans. You arched on a yearning prayer of thanks for the way he now pinned you with his weight and spread your thighs too far apart with his massive body. He undulated with you, matching the rocking of your hips because you couldn’t be still to save your life. Reaching between you, he lined himself up and surged forward to breach you with the plump head of his cock.

“Holy hell, Sackler!”

You choked, having only partially expected him to be carrying a goddamn torpedo. Amused, he licked your lips and pushed further in on languid strokes. He sunk into you maddeningly slow, drawing out pitiful whines, louder and louder until you slapped your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up.

“Uh-uh.” He tugged your hand away, pinning it down onto the bed and lacing his fingers with yours. “None of that.”

Concerned, you shook your head and chewed your own lips, but he bottomed out and you couldn’t help but swear again. 

“Fucking hell. Neighbors,” you eked out. 

The fiendish grin on his lips promised wicked things.

“Fuck the neighbors. Wanna hear you scream.”

He punctuated the last word with a mischievous snap of his hips, hardly withdrawing at all before surging back in. You felt socked in the gut. His dick stabbed at your stomach; and it wasn’t long before you did what he wanted. It burned deliciously. He fucked you all the way open and filled you completely. The wince you couldn’t hide was from both pain and pleasure. But as he knew it would, your body acclimated to him. The tension in your hips and legs eased, and you moved to accept him rather than limit the intrusion.

“Mm. That’s it. Open for me.”

He muttered things against your pulse, things lost to the whirlwind of lust. He wrapped one giant hand around the round swell of your ass, keeping you right there, right where he wanted. His rhythm kicked up, faster, deeper, and all the liquid in your body flooded south. Soon, the stab of his dick was accompanied by a vulgar squelch, an obscene sound to mark how much he affected you, how thoroughly he was wrecking you. A sound that made him switch from gripping your fingers to tangle in your hair. He held the back of your head tight to pull you down as he fucked up into you so forcefully your bed bounced against the wall.

“Fuck, that’s good.” He grunted against your jaw, lips dragging a line to yours. “Knew you’d be good, kid. Wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you.”

It was your turn to groan. You’d originally thought him talking to you in the midst of all this would feel silly. Because you knew he’d done it with so many others before; and surely, he had a script. But it lit something inside of you, something that was a little more than sex but still wildly fuckable. 

Adam’s breath broke into turbulent huffs littered with these erotic noises you didn’t think he could hold back. You clawed at his chest, trying to hold on tighter and hear them better because it was the best damn thing you ever heard. 

He tipped your face towards him with the gruff demand that you look at him. Barely, you managed it, but your eyes kept fluttering shut each time he struck gold in the deepest deep of your pussy. He said something else, but it was too much. Bravely, shockingly, you pressed your free hand over his mouth and shook your head.

“Less talk,” you pleaded, hoarse and on the edge of worn out already. “More you.”

Something savage shot through his shining eyes, turning them darker than you’d seen. He licked your palm and shifted to kneel between your thighs. Without breaking contact, he captured your legs and lay your calves on his shoulders. Your loud moans turned to raucous shrieks as he threw himself into you, roughshod and sloppy. With an iron grip on your hips, he leaned forward, tipping you into an angle that rattled you from your very core. His cock dragged against the most sensitive ridges, and you were sure you could feel his heartbeat hammer down through the shaft.

You lost your goddamn mind.

Teetering on the verge of oblivion, you froze. Arched like a bow, you fisted the sheets and quaked. Higher and higher you climbed, howling like a banshee. It was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed him to be tonight.

From nowhere, everywhere, his touch broke through the haze. Deft fingers wrapped around your screeching throat and squeezed. He growled, and you knew he felt your fractured breath, the pounding of your pulse, and every thrum of your battered vocal chords. It was a claim, a pure moment of primal to send you reeling.

He hung on until the end of an orgasm that shredded your senses. You could no longer shout, couldn’t open your eyes, couldn’t hear anything other than thunderous roaring in your ears. You curled towards him. Legs, arms, brow tight, the suspense before the bomb. But he slipped his fingers in between your puffy pussy lips and set off the explosion. You tingled from soles to soul, and it felt like it wouldn’t end. Inexplicably, you found some way to be louder, cursing like a damn sailor as you crested that wave. 

On the other side of it, you fell still and quiet. You yielded to the tempest, holding loosely to your tether of a man. Inside, you soared, hitting that amazing high you wanted. Flying in exactly the way you sought tonight.

Somewhere in the fuzzy exodus of your brain cells, he let go of your legs, pulled out from your quivering cunt, and shot his orgasm over the lower swell of your belly. You writhed and purred as he plied your shoulder and collarbone with kisses once more. His thumb rubbed your lower lip softly, and he nudged your nose with his the way he’d done earlier — a gesture that felt intimate and affectionate.

“Y’ok kid?”

Cracking your eyes open, you nodded and took as deep of a breath as your lungs would allow. Your body was pliant, relaxed and sated. The anxiety and tension tightening your muscles vanished, and the stress you carried for weeks was nowhere to be found. 

Exquisite.

Shifting to lie on his side, Adam tugged you closer, ready to bask in the afterglow. You had plans, though, and you wiggled up to kiss the corner of his mouth softly before sliding from the disheveled covers. Pushing a pillow under his head, he engulfed your bed nearly entirely, making it look far more appealing than it ever had before.

You almost told him it was ok to leave, but something inside said no. Besides, he looked awfully comfortable.

Naked and wobbly on your feet, covered in the evidence of your tryst, you crossed over to the little table lined up against the wall across from the bed. It was tucked almost into the corner, unnoticeable to most unless you looked for it or knew what you looked at.

Sinking to the floor in front of it, you stretched your arms above your head and tilted your head from side to side as you did whenever you settled to work. It was a ritual unto itself before the ritual. Readying your body to match your mind and heart.

Your eyes darted over the prepared ingredients, looking for the 30th time to be sure you forgot nothing. That’s when it occurred to you. Something unexpected always popped up, a curve ball the universe threw at you; and tonight was no different. Pushing to your feet, you hopped back into the kitchen for his gift. The sweet gesture he never could have expected would be so appropriate. 

When you turned to face the room, you found that Adam had slid from the bed and plopped down in front of your altar. He wasn’t touching anything, just looking, but he sat cross-legged where you needed to be. He noticed you watching him and held out his hand for you.

“C’mere.”

Cautiously, you took his hand and let him situate you between his legs, scooting you close enough to the altar to work but keeping you nestled in with his chest scraping your back. He stroked your hips, your spine, anything he could reach.

“What’re we doing?”

Your hand stalled because he said ‘we.’ You made it a rule to keep your craft private, for yourself only. You especially didn’t share the details with men because they liked to belittle things they didn’t understand. Adam, though, looked ardent in his question, and it birthed a warmth in your chest you’d not been ready for.

“I’m…” You faltered, trying to find a way to explain what was happening to someone who likely had no idea about any of this. But he nuzzled you like a puppy, and your smile led the way. “It's welcoming work.”

The way he sat up straighter, moved your hair to one side so he could see better, and leaned into you, threatened to melt you into a puddle of goo.

“I need to welcome a new city,” you said. “New job. New apartment. New opportunities and friends.”

You laid your head back against his shoulder as you talked, as though the intimacy you’d shared with him tonight had always been there.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time, and it’s a new moon tonight.” You pointed at your calendar, which tracked lunar cycles.  “Which is the time to work on beginnings, to set intentions for the future. All things begin in darkness; so, we start when the moon is darkest. And we face east,” you pointed to the wall, “because all things begin in the east.”

“What’s the sex bit?”

You beamed, feeling lighter and better than you had in a long time. You found yourself glad you didn’t hide your aim from him. You probably could have gotten away with it, but it wouldn’t feel like this. There wouldn’t be this comfort or this easiness to share.

“Sex is one of the best ways to raise energy. It gets your heart beating and your blood pumping. It's very potent.”

“You’re damn right I’m potent.” He puffed up like a peacock before smoothing out his tone into that sassy seduction. “Told you I’d spoil you.”

His boasting was alarmingly charming. You nodded along, because there was no way to disagree now that he’d disarmed and dicked you down you so thoroughly. Taking his cue to carry on, you tapped the different jars assembled around the little black bowl.

“Rosemary for protection. Lavender for calm and joy. Birch for beginnings. Hibiscus for love and passion. And now,” you plucked his flower from the corner of the table. “Carnation for strength.”

The proud way his chest expanded against your back did not go unnoticed. He was happy to have added something to the mix, even if he hadn’t done so on purpose. You grinned, patted his hand, and stage whispered ‘good job.’

Subtly, the moment changed, transmuting to quiet concentration. Adam drew little circles on your skin, falling into a serene silence while you worked. You placed a spoonful of each ingredient into the mortar. As you often did, you fell into humming a lilting song that connected you to the work. Pestle in hand, you ground it all together, concentrating on the melding of all of that intention.

You, your world, slid into tranquil. Your breathing fell into a pattern with his. The smell of sex and flowers blended beautifully. Dubious though you had been for him to sit here with you, he lent you a bolstering you couldn’t have predicted. Adam was doggedly sure of himself. He was solid, a surprising support with no measure of judgment. It was the sort of acceptance you wanted for all the parts of you, not just those people were used to seeing. Having him be that for you for this, in setting these objectives, was the last bit you didn’t know you needed.

Pouring the ground herbs onto a sheet of wax paper, you dabbed a bit of rosemary oil onto the slender green candle, making sure the column was coated. He cheekily held your bottom when you leaned forward and tipped off of his lap, suddenly concerned with ‘helping’ as you rolled the candle through the mixture. Carefully, you placed the dressed candle into its holder, being sure to not tap off any excess lest you lose that bit in the coming days.

Striking a match, you lit the wick and watched for a while as it burned. You felt seen, protected, ready. Shifting, you plucked a bay leaf from the waiting pile and wrote your planned words upon it. This was the last part, but you hesitated. Adam had been so kind, so present and willing.

“Would you like to do this part, too?” You offered a dried leaf to him. “Write what you want; and then, we burn it in the flame to send it out into the universe.”

“What I want?” His fingers made the leaf look ridiculously small, but he was gentle with it, taking care to not tear the edges. “Like a million dollars or something?”

You snorted playfully, handed him the pen, and settled against his chest. 

“Probably start with something simpler.”

You could wait however long it took him to decide. He set the leaf on the table, and you held it in place for him. It wasn’t easy to write on something so small, and you’d learned long ago to hold them down.

Abruptly, his free hand clamped over your eyes, and he jarred you to the left, still holding you but forcing you away from what he wrote.

“No peeking.”

You yipped, and you could feel him grinning like a fiend. When he finished, he helped you sit upright with both of his arms around you once more. He kissed your temple and returned to stroking your side slowly, his knuckles following the contours of your body. Holding your leaf to the flame, you watched the end catch fire and the black char consume it slowly, deliberately, as fire was wont to do. Matching suit, Adam pressed you tighter to him and lifted his leaf.

You gazed into the flame, content and not entirely paying attention; but he lingered, hovering just outside the light. Your eyes came to focus, and you saw his scrawled words. 

‘More sex magic’ on one side and ‘Be mine’ on the other, like a valentine.

Your breathing, which had become so mild and centered, hitched, which was what he waited for because, when he figured you’d seen what he wrote, he set it to the flame, igniting his own intention.

For a long moment, you basked in the feeling, the beautiful, beautiful mood. It was everything you wanted it to be without not knowing all the pieces and parts. You expected him to fuck you silly, but you had no way to know that he was supposed to be here for this. It would have felt lacking without him, though, and the realization of that fact had your hands seeking contact.

“Thank you, Adam.” You splayed your fingers at his outer thigh, comforted by how real he felt. “That was lovely. Thank you.”

He buried his face into your hair and pressed kisses to the nape of your neck.

“What do we do now?”

He shifted against you, hands turning a little more than affectionate. The stroking that was innocent at your sides turned devious at your breasts, kneading and plucking. A matching hot palm found your tender pussy and cupped it, not quite interrupting the moment but skirting dangerously close.

“We leave the candle to burn down.” 

“Hm. Think my wish is gonna come true before yours.”

You meant to laugh but gasped instead as a nip to your ear tripped a shudder down your spine. Adam’s thick fingers slid through the still slippery mess of your labia. He trapped you in this cubby made of his body while he fondled your clit, rubbing the slick nub in lazy circles.

“I do have a question, though.”

You had no idea how you were supposed to answer questions with him working your clit like that, but you still nodded for him to ask.

“If a little sex magic is good, a little more is better, yeah?”

♪ Got your spell on me, baby   You got your spell on me, baby   Yes, you got your spell on me, baby ♪

[dragonologist-in-the-making]

It Was Always You

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Summary: James has always been in love with the reader, and decides that the incessant flirting with Lily Evans isn’t working, so he steps his jealousy game up a notch.

A/N: I’ve been gone for too long (sorry!!) but I loved writing this!! I need to work on the rest of the requests I have (sorry it’s taken so long, if anyone cares enough about excuses I have a whole wheelbarrow full). This is part of @wreckofawriter ‘s writing challenge! My trope was fake dating, but of course I couldn’t do it so cliched and had to have a little twist.

Wordcount: 2.9K

“I think this is the year.” James Potter grinned, walking into the Entrance Hall with all the other Hogwarts students. Next to him, Remus rolled his eyes, Sirius shook his head in disbelief and Peter smiled sympathetically. “It’s going to work this year, I just know it.”

“Prongs.” Sirius started, moving through the throngs of students all trying to get to the Great Hall for the welcome feast, arguably the best feast of the year. “You’ve also said that for the last five years, and nothing has happened.”

“No, this year is different. Clearly, flirting with Evans isn’t getting me anywhere with y/n, I just need a new plan. I don’t know if I can pretend to be in love with Lily for much longer.”

They walked into the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table, where a y/h/c girl was sat waiting for them, a bright smile on her face. “I saved you all seats.” She gestured to the four empty seats around her as all the boys sat down, James taking his seat next to her as he gave a pointed look to Sirius, as if saying I told you so. “Did you have a good summer? I’m sorry I couldn’t come and visit James, my parents would barely even let me in the garden because of the war.” She chewed on her lip guiltily, her eyes wide and looking at him, making him feel like he was melting into a puddle next to her.

Stuttering, he waved off her concerns quickly, returning her bright smile and trying to stop the blush from rising to his cheeks as he turned to the plates which were now full in front of him, helping himself to large portions of food. The rest of the meal continued, the five friends laughing loudly as if their two months of separation had never happened, sharing stories and inside jokes. Once they had finished eating, they made their way lazily back up to the common room, all slightly sluggish from the long journey and their newly full stomachs.

“I think I’m about to enter a food coma.” y/n laughed, rubbing her hand on her belly as if pregnant, causing a laugh from the boys. “I’m gonna head off to bed, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She waved goodbye, walking up the stairs to the girls dorm as the boys all sat on the sofa and chairs around the warm fire. Catching a glimpse of long red hair, James paused before he sat, uttering a quick excuse to his friends before he turned and walked across the room to where she was sat.

“I need a favour.” He said, catching her attention as she turned to look at him sympathetically and simultaneously irritably.

“You mean, me letting you flirt with me and follow me around for years in the hopes that you would get y/n’s attention isn’t enough?” She asked sarcastically, earning a guilty shrug from him as he sat in the seat next to her.

“It is, Lils, you’ve been actually the best to put up with me. I just, I need to do something a little more extreme, to see once and for all if she likes me.”

“James, you know I don’t like doing this to her, she’s my friend too and I don’t like playing with her feelings.”

“I promise this is it.” He felt his heart sink as he made the promise, to Lily and to himself, hoping that he would never have to face the consequences he was laying out. “Please, Lily, just pretend to date me for a few weeks, a month tops, and if nothing changes then I’ll accept that it’s over, and I’ll drop it.” He looked at her pleadingly, and after a deafening silence she finally nodded. He puffed out a breath of hot air, relief and hope washing over him, as he jumped up and pulled Lily into a hug, squeezing her tightly. “Thank you. For everything. You’re the best.”

“Don’t make me regret it!” She called after him as he walked back to the other Marauders, already lost in his own world of what could happen by the end of this month.

…

Y/n was walking with Remus from ancient runes to defence against the dark arts, discussing plans for the first Hogsmead trip of the year, the first time they could (officially) leave the castle since arriving on September first. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of James next to Lily. It wasn’t uncommon, he had been following after her for years, giving y/n much ammo to tease him with, but what stopped her in her tracks was that instead of Lily’s usual hard exterior, deflecting his compliments and his cheesy lines, she was laughing back at him, with this stupid, stupid grin, and was twirling her hair around her finger.

Remus stopped next to her, confused for a second until he looked up and saw what she had noticed. “Ah.”

“James and Lily? They’re… together?” She asked, her voice a little smaller than usual, slightly more shielded.

“They saw each other a lot over the summer, and I… guess she finally saw enough of him to give him a chance.” Remus explained uncomfortably. He, too (like everyone but James), had been against the idea, not wanting to play with feelings, warning that it was more trouble than was necessary. But, stubborn as he was, he wouldn’t give it up, and so here Remus was, lying to one of his best friends, for one of his other best friends.

Her face fell for a second, shadows flickering across too quickly for Remus to pick out exactly what they were. Jealousy? Hurt? Before he had time to decipher what he was seeing, she shrugged lightly, her shoulders lifting in a graceful movement. “Well, good, I’m glad she’s seen the real him. He deserves to be happy, he’s waited long enough for her.”

She couldn’t help the true, genuine smile that rose on her face at seeing the boy she loved so happy, his head thrown back as he laughed, his messy hair falling into his eyes as he brought his head up again, even as she felt the blade slice through her heart as she watched his hand reach for hers, a simple gesture tearing her apart so easily.

Remus seemed to accept her statement, and they finished their journey to class together, where y/n struggled to concentrate. James Potter finally had Lily Evans, so where did that leave her? She supposed, as she doodled little flowers on the edges of her parchment, that it was time to listen to her aching heart and try to move on.

…

It was hard for y/n to adjust to life with James having a girlfriend. As hard as it was for her to see, and it never did seem to hurt less, she cared so much for both James and Lily that she wanted them to be happy with each other. She had stepped back slightly from James’ life, not wanting their closeness to become an issue in his relationship, meaning that she constantly had to remind herself that the seat next to him was no longer for her, she couldn’t borrow his jumpers anymore (she had taken to stealing Remus’ in their absence, much to his own amusement), and she couldn’t hide in a dark corner of the castle with him whenever she needed a break from the rest of the world, and a comfort only someone who had known her as long as he had could provide.

She had forgotten, for a brief moment, after the Quidditch game earlier that day. Gryffindor had pulled through spectacularly in the first game of the school year, in large part due to James’ skills, and she had run onto the pitch to congratulate him like always, only to stop when she saw Lily get there first. She had waited until Sirius was next to her to go and congratulate James, trying not to notice how the exercise always sharpened his hazel eyes and how the wind always left his hair tangled.

It was exactly that, which had lead to the situation she was in now. She was sat in the common room, her fourth firewhisky in her hand, trying to let herself forget James for just one night. He looked distractingly beautiful in a simple t-shirt and jeans, and he was in the centre of the party, Lily hooked firmly to his side. He had caught her eye when y/n had walked down from her dorm, and smiled and waved, which had promptly caused her to hide in a corner nursing a bottle, hoping she could be left alone.

“Well aren’t you a depressing scene.” She looked up at the voice to see Sirius, who seemed flushed from alcohol too, smiling down at her as he leaned over the arm of the chair she was sunk in.

“Sirius, you get with a lot of girls, right?” She asked, a sudden inspiration and courage coursing through her from the liquid courage in her veins. He nodded, not drunk enough to not be wary about where she was going as he indicated to continue. “Well, do you ever get attached? Like, is it easy to just let go and move on? Do you even need to move on?” She could feel herself rambling, but couldn’t stop, and found she needed an answer from him more than she had known.

“No, most of the time it’s only a one-time thing, and I know that going in, so I don’t get attached. It’s different when you’ve been in love with someone for years.” He looked at her knowingly, and she glared back defensively.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She huffed, averting her eyes and scanning the crowds of the party, people dancing and having a good time. “I’m not in love with James.”

“Who mentioned James?” Sirius grinned as she groaned, realising that he had caught her.

“It’s nothing. I’m getting over it. Trying, anyway.” She sighed, finishing the rest of her bottle and casting it aside. Feeling hurt and desperate to stop the feeling, she looked at Sirius. “And I think I know where to start.”

She surged forward, pressing her lips to his, trying to ignore the rest of the party and focus on the feeling of his lips against hers. His lips, which weren’t moving. His hands, which had moved to her shoulders and which were gently pushing her away. He was sat next to her, and as she looked at him guilt flooded through her at what she had done.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking.” Her hand flew to her mouth as she felt the shock begin to sober her up.

“No, y/n, it’s okay. It’s just, this won’t change your feelings, it’ll only make you feel worse.” She nodded, accepting his words and feeling even more despair at how far she had fallen for the boy. Sirius noticed and pulled her closer, tucking her under his arm as she took his half-empty bottle from his hands and drinking from it, managing to laugh at a joke he told her.

They both turned as they heard glass shatter behind them, and saw James standing there, hand still clenched as if he was holding a bottle in his hand, although it had clearly shattered in his grip. Sirius jumped away from y/n, holding his hands up and turning to face James.

“It’s not what you think.” He started, speaking low and trying not to gain the attention of the other Gryffindors, most of whom had assumed someone had just drunkenly dropped a bottle.

“I think you were flirting with y/n!” he shouted back, his words barely slurred, clearly more sober than the two of them. She had begun to stand up, although she wasn’t sure what her input in this conversation would be. After all, even though she hadn’t been flirting with Sirius, that was her choice to make.

“She was telling me how she’s trying to get over you!” He shouted back, clearly exasperated at the situation, laughing humourlessly.

“You – she – she’s what?” James sputtered, his eyes widening as he processed his best friend’s words. “You what?” He asked, turning to face y/n, who was equally shocked that Sirius would treat her feelings so carelessly.

“Nope.” She muttered, not ready to have this conversation, not when she was drunk, not in the common room, maybe not ever. Before anyone could stop her she was through the portrait hole and running through the corridors, not caring if she was caught, slightly hoping she would be so that at least no one could find her.

She slowed down, ducking behind a tapestry into a hidden corridor, welcoming the peace and quiet of the castle at night. She led on the floor, grateful for the stone cooling down her hot skin, closing her eyes and trying to pretend the whole night had never happened.

A few pairs of footsteps walked past her hiding spot, and each time she would tense up, not relaxing until they had passed her again and she was left in silence. She jumped, then, when a voice came out of the dark from the long corridor behind her.

“I know you can sleep anywhere, but I never thought you would try the actual floor of the castle.” After the small shriek that had left her lips at his unexpected appearance, she opened her eyes to see him standing over her, smiling nervously, one hand in his pocket and the other extended to pull her into a sitting position.

“Merlin, James. How did you find me?” She asked, and he gave her a pointed look once he had settled next to her, both of their backs against the wall of the corridor. “I’m going to burn that map one day.”

“No you won’t, you’re too impressed at how well the magic works.” He grinned at her, widening slightly when she couldn’t argue with his point. “So, I spoke to Sirius.” He offered, and y/n curled into herself as he brought up the one thing she was hoping he wouldn’t, but knew that he was going to.

“I’m sorry. I just thought, you and Lily seem to be happy, you know, and I want to be happy for you, so I’m trying to move on. But, I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, if it makes you too uncomfortable to be around me.”

“We’re not.” He blurted out, and y/n looked at him in confusion. “Lily and I, we’re not together.”

She gasped into the silence, too consumed by her own thoughts to notice that he didn’t look at all bothered by this fact. “Oh James, are you okay? I know how long you’ve liked her, I’m so sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted.” Despite everything, she reached for his hand, giving it a short squeeze in comfort. As she went to let go, he held on tighter, and she looked at him in confusion.

“I never actually liked her.” He confessed, blushing slightly as she only became more confused. “I actually, um, like, love, you. It was always you. But I was scared, and I thought that if I paid attention to Lily, I might be able to see if you liked me too. But I could never tell, so we pretended to date, but you seemed to support that too, which was confusing. But Sirius told me what you said, he said that you love me. And, I knew I had to come and find you.”

Her head was spinning as she tried to wrap her head around what he was telling her, her hand holding his even tighter than before. She looked at him, the hopeful look in his eyes, the way his cheeks were flushed from a mixture of the alcohol and their situation. He leaned in closer, looking into her eyes. “Can I kiss you?” Unable to speak, she nodded, and for the second time that night her lips connected with another.

Whereas the first kiss made her feel nothing, this was the polar opposite. As the realisation of what was happening caught up to her, she felt the elation soar through her, making her light-headed with giddiness. Her hands wound their way behind his neck and into his hair, as his circled around her waist and pulled her closer into him. She gasped as his teeth caught on her lip, and he kissed her harder, more forcefully than she had expected, pushing her backwards. James reacted quick enough to put his arm out and break her fall, making sure her back didn’t hit the hard floor too roughly. She looked up at him leaning over her, pupils blown, lips swollen, looking wild, and she swallowed.

“Should we head back to the party?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“No way. I only just got you, I don’t think I’m ready to share you just yet.”

“Oh thank god.” She replied, pulling him back down to her by the shirt to her, not willing to waste one more second without James Potter by her side.

[mightbewriting]

So I came to W&H and B&E in an odd way. I'm a long time Dramione fic reader who like many of us doubled down on in 2020 to find comfort in a bananas year. I kept seeing W&H on everyone's rec list, but for whatever reason kept putting it off. Then I heard about the prequel and decided to wait for that to be finished, read it, then do W&H. But once it was finished, I saw you recommended W&H first so I was like okay I'll do that. I struggle with impulse control but am trying to do better so when I saw the audiobook for W&H I was like perfect, I'll listen rather than read that way I won't gobble it up in a day. Ha well that did not work, I listened to the first 3 chapters (at that time those were the only chapters they had recorded) then instantly ran not walked to A03, reread said chapters, then continued on. At Chapter 4 of W&H, I thought hmm maybe I'll read them simultaneously. I continued that way maybe through Chapter 13 of B&E and Chapter 7ish then fully committed to W&H first. I cannot imagine reading these fics in real time because reading them in full, back to back was the most intense glutenous binge and it's taken over my life in the best way. I have been living in your fictional universe for the past two weeks. I started a list of all the parallels and callbacks and eventually had to call it because they are innumerable. I'm awed. In literal awe. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Your writing - the individual words of your vast vocabulary, the way you string said words together into hilarious, heart breaking, heart stopping, beautiful, and visceral feelings is astounding. It's hard to explain but even good writers (and/or an intriguing plot) sometimes do not create an overall immersive feeling. But the feelings your words evoke are all encompassing and truly universe building. Like it's not just the wording or the plot or the charters but all of it together come to make something even greater than the sum of their parts. Your writing, your universe of W&H, S&S, and B&E live in my mind and heart and in an embarrassing amount of screenshots of passages on my phone and in voice memos to myself as I don't have anyone irl to fan girl with. When I think of your words and the world you built, I'm reminded of a Taylor Swift lyric: "it cut deep to know you, right to the bone". That is how I'd describe your writing's effect on me, but in the best way.

Your brain's capacity to plot, plan, and flawlessly deliver W&H THEN B&E? Idk how you kept all the threads and plot points and moments and timelines in check. My head aches just thinking about how you wrote these stand-alone but also inextricable works of art. Like how does one's brain function in such a level? And it's especially telling in B&E because we knew where we were going but I still gasped, screamed, squealed, giggled, had to put my phone down, clutched it to my heart, fist pumped, stopped half way through just for a minute to breath and take it all in, and overall looked and acted as an utter idiot during each and every chapter because while I knew where we were going I also had no idea! I'm just floored you managed to keep us at the edge of our seats with a prequel? Who does that? You do!

The texts in the final chapter of W&H devastated me, literal chills. I think about that daily. It's exactly what H and we needed. Just like a reminder of what they went through. It reminded me of Chapter 41 of B&E. Like a summary of where they had been and where they are now.

The other thing that rattled in my brain is the motifs of choice and time, life kind of boils down to those two things huh? But choice especially. It's funny because choice is so prominent but at the same time how W&H and B&E give off soulmate vibes even though this is not a soulmate fic (also are the rumors true...?!) because despite time turners, breakups, and lost memories, they always come back together. But more on choice: it's just as Draco says - in a million scenarios he'll always choose her and he feels lucky she chose him just once. But of course with W&H, she does it twice. And she does it in both timelines of B&E, and of course that's the problem when Draco realizes he has not done the same hence heartbreak 1.0. And just god - he wants her to have a choice with the potion, a choice with her memories, and stops the timey wimey madness by realizing he's taking her choice (and in a way H started it by taking away his choice and leaving the first time). And then those parts about how he chose her, she chose him, but they could not chose each other. This motif, these callbacks. I'm flabbergasted. It's just hitting me now that you extend the choice to us as readers - we get to choose whether H get her memories back or not.

Theo in all your Wait and Hope universe, but especially S&S broke me. Blaise asking who is taking care of Theo when he's taking care of everyone else? Theo's literal and figurative demons? Yikes. Those were unpleasant looks in the mirror for me. I'm glad Theo has his Blaise. Where's mine haha? Also just shout to your underrated Blaise. The fact that he might be my favorite of the Slytherians in your stories says a lot since he doesn't say a lot haha. But he packs such a punch in all your works.

Okay, after singing your well deserved praises and fan girling and marveling at your works (god this is so long, I'm so sorry!), at long last my ask. I still cannot get this out of my head: what did Theo mean in Chapter 1 of B&E when he suggests to Draco “I know that. Maybe you could—tell her some of—” some of what? I zeroed in on this as soon as I read it and it's been rattling in my brain ever since.

um. hi? holy shit. i dont know how to process this. i am resisting the impulse to cringe away from the level of praise happening here because i really need to learn how to take a compliment but oh my god? i am not...this is just...wowzers. you are very literally too kind to me. i have melted into a puddle of feelings in my reading chair here. 

so, first things first: thank you. these are some of the nicest things i’ve ever heard about my writing and i can guarantee i will come back to this ask when I'm feeling like i suck and need a motivation boost. i can’t deny...it feels really nice to know that at least one person out there caught and appreciated some of the insane attention to detail i forced upon myself lol. so thank you. truly, thank you so much for saying such amazingly kind things that have short circuited my brain!

and im sure my friends at @etl-echo-audiobooks will be over the moon to know that their recording work was such a hit! your trajectory reading these stories is so fun and hilarious and probably the most unique reading experience i’ve heard so far xD

also, please be advised that your analysis on choice in these stories is probably going to live in my head rent free for the rest of my life. i feel seen, you know? you just...picked up what i was putting down and it feels really nice to know that it worked for you! 

and ok. your question. that little dash of ambiguity i was planning on leaving open ended. but let it be known i can be plied with compliments. i can’t just *not* give you something in return for such a lovely and kind and thoughtful dose of joy you had absolutely no obligation to give me today. 

so, in my mind, after draco’s house arrest ended and before he went abroad for his mastery, he and theo had an extensive (most likely drunken. also blaise was probably there too) night of reflection where they kind of just looked back at their childhoods and the war and the history of blood purity and just sort of went: “what the fuck?” i imagine draco probably confided in theo that when he went abroad, he planned to just try and pretend like none of it mattered, to see if that was really true. and draco probably kept him updated via owl (even though draco did not write enough and theo had feelings about that) so that by the time draco returned and we have theo asking that sort of trailing question, the implication at the end is “what if you told granger some of your realizations about it all?” so...not all that exciting? but there you have it!

in conclusion: thank you! you are too kind! i appreciate your thoughtful commentary SO much! i’m so happy you enjoyed these stories. and i hope the explanation of what theo was going to say wasn’t too underwhelming.

[ifmywishescametrue]

numbers are hard

also on ao3

Steve has been acting strange all day, and for the life of him Tony can’t figure out why. It starts with sex when they first wake up, which isn’t all that weird. More tender than usual, slower and sweeter than most days, but nothing that makes him question anything right away. The only slightly abnormal part is that Steve skips his run entirely for it, but it’s happened before. 

Breakfast is the first real sign that something is up, when Steve breaks out all of the stops to produce french toast dusted with powdered sugar and topped with sliced strawberries. It’s quite the step up from his everyday toast and eggs, and his grin when Tony compliments his cooking is brighter than the morning sun coming in through the wall of windows. 

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Tony says, dragging a piece of french toast through a puddle of maple syrup. 

Steve leans over, and the kiss he plants on Tony’s cheek is slightly sticky. “You deserve something nice today.”

Tony chews his bite slowly, processing that. Nice today, implying that today is different than other days. He checks the date on his phone as inconspicuously as possible. 

There’s nothing significant that strikes him about May 10th. He has a couple weeks to go until his birthday, five more days until the anniversary of their first kiss. Another eight until the anniversary of their first real date. May 10th couldn’t be less special if it tried, really. 

For now Tony shrugs it off, chalks it up to just another Steve thing. Like the way he wears socks to bed, but only in December, and drinks a different flavor of tea for every day of the week. 

But then it continues throughout the morning. Steve asks him to go for a walk with him in Central Park, and he seems more affectionate than usual when they’re in public. With the Captain America mantle hanging heavy on his shoulders, Steve has typically always been more reserved around others. Their relationship has never been a secret, but Tony knows for a fact that there is exactly one paparazzi photo of them kissing in existence. There are quite a few more with hand holding, maybe the occasional shot of Steve’s arm slung around his shoulder, but never more than that. 

Today, Steve kisses him on the pedestrian bridge as they lean against the railing, then again when Tony gets ice cream on his lips from the cones they buy from a street vendor.  

“You’re in a very good mood today,” Tony observes on their walk back to the tower. 

Steve smiles, “Why shouldn’t I be? It’s a good day.”

Tony nods in agreement, though he still isn’t sure what separates today from all the rest. 

At some point it stops being strange and starts giving him anxiety. Weird turns into terror-inducing, because he has to be missing something, right? Boyfriends don’t just wake up one day and decide to be extra caring for no reason at all. 

He thinks about asking, but what if he really has missed something important? He can picture the look on Steve’s face when he realizes that Tony has forgotten something that clearly matters to him. The way his eyes will widen slightly, brows turning down and shoulders slumping. Then his face will close off again, turning perfectly neutral to hide the hurt and disappointment. He’ll say it’s not a big deal, but Tony will know he’s lying. 

So he stays quiet through the afternoon while he works in the lab on team upgrades and Steve sits on the couch and sketches. It’s easily the most normal part of the entire day, and Tony basks in the quiet comfort of just co-existing with the person he loves. 

Steve goes upstairs after a few hours, kissing Tony’s cheek and patting the bots’ metal arms as he goes. He tells Tony to be on time for dinner, and his voice is more pointed than usual, which is why Tony heads up early to be able to shower off the grease from his hands and arms. 

There’s a candle burning on the table when he walks into the dining room post-shower and a vase of flowers sitting a safe distance away from the flame. Tony freezes at the sight, but hopefully Steve doesn’t notice as he comes into the room with two plates. 

He smiles softly as he sets them down and pulls out Tony’s chair for him. Tony reaches for the glass of red wine the second he sits down. He’ll need it for the night ahead of him. 

The dish in front of him is some type of pasta in a creamy red sauce, and after the first bite he asks, ���Did you make this pasta yourself?”

Steve nods, and even in the dim lighting Tony can see the way his ears have gone pink. “I had to practice a couple of times to get it right. Luckily Clint volunteered to taste test.”

Now Tony is downright desperate to know what he’s missing, but still unwilling to ask. So he hopes he can be vague enough in his conversation to get Steve to say it. 

“I don’t know how I deserve all that work, but thank you.”

Steve’s response, while sweet enough to melt Tony’s heart, doesn’t help. “You’ve done a lot for me. It’s really the least I could do for you.”

He keeps failing all throughout dinner. Every time he vaguely talks about the significance of the day, Steve answers with something that would probably make sense if Tony was on the same page as him. 

It’s in the kitchen after dinner that he finally breaks. 

“I can do these,” Tony says, gesturing to the sink full of dishes. “Seeing as you cooked and all.”

Steve wraps his arms around him from behind, breath ghosting over Tony’s neck as he ducks down to kiss him there. 

“Or,” Steve murmurs, “we could just leave them there for tomorrow.”

“What?” Tony asks. He twists around in Steve’s hold and presses his palm to Steve’s forehead. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get sick anymore, but you’re clearly delirious.”

Steve laughs, “I’m not delirious, and I’m not sick either. I just want to make the most of our anniversary.”

Tony’s mind goes blank. That was the one thing he was sure he could eliminate from possibilities. He frowns, “It’s not our anniversary. Our anniversary is next week. May 15th.”

Steve’s face crinkles. “No, it’s today. May 10th.”

“On May 15th, you came down to my lab after that mission in New Jersey, and you yelled at me a whole bunch about being reckless - which you were wrong about, by the way - and then you kissed me and I asked you out.”

Steve looks at him like he’s grown a second head, and his arms drop from around Tony’s waist. “On May 10th, we came home from a mission, I rightfully told you that you were being reckless, I kissed you because you told me to make you shut up, and then I told you that I was in love with you. Nothing happened on May 15th.”

“No, no, I know it was May 15th because I thought it was ironic that we got together on the two year anniversary of when you called me an asshole for the first time, and I know what day that was because I marked it on your calendar as a joke, and then you called me an asshole for the second time.”

“It’s May 10th because we had our first date on May 13th. We went to that theater, because they were showing Friday the Thirteenth, and you said that I had to see it because everyone else has.”

“JARVIS, please tell Steve that he’s wrong.”

Steve scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “You’re about to be really upset when your own creation betrays you by telling you I’m right.”

JARVIS cuts off Tony’s snarky reply before it can finish forming. “According to my data, the event that you both have described occurred on May 7th of last year.”

Tony and Steve exchange a look, and it’s painfully silent until JARVIS speaks again, “I can provide the recording of this event if you would like.”

Tony waves his hand through the air to dismiss the suggestion. “No, that’s okay, J. We believe you.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and his face turns pink. “So I guess we missed our anniversary.”

Tony dissolves into laughter, and Steve stays serious for all of three seconds before he’s joining in. He hooks his arms around Steve’s neck, getting on his tiptoes as he pulls Steve down to meet him in the middle. Steve’s hands cover his hips completely, warm on his skin even through his t-shirt. 

“Happy one year and three days?” Tony offers. 

It’s one year and two days longer than he ever thought they would make it. He expected Steve to change his mind after the first day, when Tony was such a nervous wreck that Steve had to be wondering how he ever got his reputation for a playboy in the first place. And when that didn’t happen, he expected Steve to grow tired of him. To come to the same realization that every other significant other has reached throughout the years - that he isn’t worth the effort. 

But here they are 368 days later, and Steve still wants him. He would call it a miracle if he believed in that kind of thing, but the reality is that against all odds, they just work together. There’s no one else he would rather be with, and he knows that Steve feels the same. 

Steve smiles, “Happy one year and three days.”