#and I’m gonna rub it in his face for the 50th time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

russiandoll-from-brooklyn · 3 years ago

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Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

#tony x reader #tony x fem!reader #avengers imagines #avengers fic #avengers smut #tony stark #smut #tony stark smut #marvel fics #iron man #iron man smut #iron man fic #dom!tony #soft!tony #friends to lovers #tony stark fluff #fanfic

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simplee-dreaming · 3 years ago

Text

The Runner (Part 2)

(Part 1 here)

A/N: THIS IS MY 50TH FIC WTF!! Ngl I'm not so confident about this one but that's just my anxiety being a demon. I hope you all like it.

Word count: 3823

Summary: With Darren being on the warpath, Chris takes great care of the reader...along with some friends.

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

The next day you walked into work with a big smile on your face. Last night you shared food with Chris Evans, watched a film with Chris Evans, got into a tickle fight with Chris Evans and ended up being cuddled by Chris Evans. You were certainly on cloud nine right now.

“Black coffee for Mr Evans please! Black coffee!” a call came over the radio. You strode into the kitchen to make it but found another runner already on the case.

“Nevermind,” you thought to yourself. There’s no way you were gonna go the whole of today without seeing him anyway.

You turned on your heel to leave but walked straight into Darren.

“Oh, um, sorry, I-I didn’t see you there,” you stuttered.

“Watch where you’re going,” he said, sternly.

“Sorry,” you repeated.

“There’s a mess on the set, you need to clean it up before the next scene begins shooting,” he demanded. You looked at him.

“But, I’m not a cleaner?” You said, puzzled.

“You were perfectly happy to clean the set a few weeks back,” he said.

“Well yeah but-”

“No excuses, clean up that mess now,” he interrupted, marching out of the kitchen. You sighed but decided not to argue.

You went onto the set and helped the cleaners with the mess.

A few hours had passed and you were sitting on set filling out an accident form. Apparently, Sebastian Stan had slipped on set whilst filming and managed to cut his hand. Only a tiny cut, but any accident has to be filed. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to sit with Seb and fill it out but was given the details by his assistant, Jane.

You got up and walked into the set office, where all the paperwork was kept, and filed away the accident form. When you walked back onto the set, Darren was standing there staring at you. He lifted up his hand and ordered you to go over to him. You slowly walked over and stood in front of him.

“So what exactly did you do to clean the set earlier today?” He asked.

“I...I swept up the debris. I just cleared the mess,” you replied.

“You cleaned the floor, didn’t you?”

“I cleared it yeah but I-”

“You cleaned the floor and left it in a slippery state. No wonder Mr Stan slipped over,”

“No, but, I..I just cleared it! I never-”

“He could have broken a bone,”

“I didn’t clean it, I only swept!” You protested. Darren grunted at you and walked off, leaving you feeling deflated.

The rest of the day you were silent. You didn’t dare speak to anyone in case they thought the same as Darren. When your lunch break finally came around, you walked outside to the back of the studios and sat in a quiet corner where all you could hear was the wind sweeping through the trees and the birds singing. You finished your lunch in silence, a single tear escaping from your eye.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you all day!�� said a familiar voice. You looked up to see Chris walking towards you. A smile involuntarily grew on your lips.

“Oh, hey!” You said, quickly wiping away the tear.

“What’s wrong? Have you been crying?” He asked, sitting on the bench next to you.

“No. No, I’m fine,” you replied.

“You have been crying. What’s the matter?”

“I’m fine,”

“No you’re not,”

“Yes I am, I promise. I’m fine,” you said, a little too quickly. Chris gently put his hand on top of yours.

“What’s happened?” He asked, softly. You looked at him, then looked down and burst into tears. He pulled you in for a tight cuddle.

“It’s all my fault,” you sobbed into his chest.

“What is?” he asked.

“Seb. I made Seb slip. He’s hurt because of me,” you cried.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Chris asked, rubbing your arm.

“I cleaned the set earlier, I must’ve put something down because Seb slipped and cut himself and it’s my fault,”

“Seb didn’t slip?” Chris said, confused.

“What?”

“Seb didn’t slip, he tripped and fell over. That’s how he cut his hand, he grabbed onto a bit of the set for support and caught a sharp edge. He never slipped,” Chris said. You looked up at him.

“So...so it wasn’t me?” You asked.

“Of course not, he’s just a clumsy idiot. The floor wasn’t slippery at all. Plus, he’s fine. Just got a big boy plaster on,” he chuckled.

“But...but Darren said-”

“What did Darren say?” Chris asked, more seriously.

“Darren said Seb slipped. And that it was my fault because I cleaned the set earlier but I didn’t remember actually putting any product down to clean and I thought I only swept the set which it seems is all I did and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, breathe. Darren told you this was your fault?” Chris asked. You nodded.

“Right, I’m going to talk to him,” Chris said, standing up.

“No no please, he already hates me. If you say something then he’ll know I told on him and he’ll be even worse,” you begged.

“Y/N, he cannot treat you like this,”

“It’s fine, I can handle it,” you lied.

“He made you cry, Y/N. That is not okay. I’m going to speak to him,” Chris said. He walked off and you ran after him. When you turned the corner, you both ran straight into Seb.

“Whoa Speedy Gonzales, slow down!” Seb said, catching you as you tripped over Chris’ foot.

“S-sorry,” you said. You looked up and suddenly registered who was in front of you.

“Oh god. Oh I’m so sorry, Mr Stan, I didn’t mean to-”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay,” Chris said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him and took a few deep breaths.

“Ohh so you’re Y/N. Chris has been telling me all about you, it’s nice to put a face to a name,” Seb said, smiling at you. You gave a shaky smile back. He looked at Chris.

“Where are you off to?”

“Going to see my assistant,” Chris said, sternly.

“Ah yes, ‘Divine Darren’,” Seb said, sarcastically. “More like Distasteful Darren.”

“Well, quite. He’s been so unpleasant to Y/N, so I’m going to talk to him,” Chris said, he sounded very angry.

“Chris please, it will only make things worse,” you begged. Seb looked at your worried face and looked back at Chris.

“I think she’s right, Chris. At least wait a little bit until you’re calmer. Then I’ll come and back you up,” Seb said. Chris let out a sigh then looked at you. His face softened.

“Okay. But he’s not going to get away with this,” Chris said. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good lad,” Seb said, patting Chris’ shoulder. He then turned to you.

“So, you’re the reason our Chris was so chirpy this morning, eh?” He said. You blushed.

“W-well...I...um…” you stammered. What had Chris told Seb?

“Seb…” Chris warned.

“What? I’ve gotta be polite to your new tickle attacker!” Seb said.

“SEB!” Chris cried.

“Chris told me you used his weakness against him last night. Nice to have you on board Y/N,” Seb winked at you. You let out a nervous giggle, praying that Chris didn’t tell Seb that you shared the same weakness.

“Although, it seems you may struggle more. We can’t have someone who is equally as ticklish on the front line until he’s not strong enough to retaliate,” Seb said. He winked at you again and smirked.

Fuck. He knew.

“Anyway, gotta get ready for my next scene. Catch you both later,” Seb waved goodbye and walked off.

You turned to Chris and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?!” He exclaimed.

“You told him?” You asked.

“Ohh...yeah...yeah I did,” he said, giggling. You punched him again.

“Ow! Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I just had a great night last night and couldn’t keep my mouth shut,” he said. You couldn’t help but smile.

“So did I,” you replied. He chuckled and pulled you in for a hug. You relaxed in his arms until he squeezed your side.

“Hey!” You yelped.

“That was for punching me,” he said.

You sighed and walked back into the studios with him, ready to get back to work.

The day finally came to a close. Scenes were wrapping up shooting and members of the crew were packing up to go home. You had purposefully been avoiding Darren all day, terrified of what he may try and do next.

Chris has invited you to his caravan again for another movie night, so you decided to quickly clean up the kitchen area before you clocked out. You took the half-filled jug of coffee out of its hold and turned to pour it down the sink. But, as you turned, someone knocked into the back of you and you dropped the jug which smashed all over the floor.

“What the hell are you playing at?!” Yelled Darren from behind you. You swiftly turned around.

No words came out of your mouth, just incoherent babbling.

“Look at what you’ve done! You’ve smashed the bloody jug you blundering idiot!” He yelled. You took a step backwards and slipped slightly on the spilt coffee, you held the kitchen side for support as tears leaked down your face.

“I-I didn’t mean….I never meant to...it was an accident!” You cried.

“You did that on purpose. You’ve been messing about ever since you started here. Have you any idea the damage you’ve caused?!”

You burst into tears, frightened of the man standing before you.

“Hey hey, back off!” A voice said behind Darren. He turned around slightly and there stood Scarlett and Lizzie, both with their arms folded.

“Did you see what she did? She broke the coffee jug!” Darren exclaimed, gesturing at you.

“Then buy another one,” Scarlett said, shrugging.

“Better yet, buy another one secretly and we won’t tell anyone that you purposely fell into her,” Lizzie said.

“What? I never fell into her! Stupid girl tripped over,” he said, a wobble in his voice. Both women titled their heads and raised their eyebrows at the same time.

“She dropped it all by herself! She’s caused nothing but havoc since she started,” he tried to explain but the girls were having none of it.

“Grrr. Out of my way,” Darren huffed. He pushed past Scarlett and Lizzie and marched off.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lizzie asked, approaching you. You shook your head and burst into tears. Lizzie drew you in for a hug.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Scarlett asked.

“Y/N,” you responded, quietly.

“Oh goodness, you’re Y/N! Chris has mentioned you a few times today. He’s waiting for you, we'll take you to him,” said Lizzie.

“B-but the mess…” you stammered.

“Leave it, we’ll clean it up,” Scarlett said.

She and Lizzie each put an arm around you and guided you away from the kitchen. Chris was standing at the back of the studios, near the caravan park. His posture straightened up when he saw you, but his face grew more concerned as you approached.

“Oh my god, are you okay Y/N? What happened?” He asked. Scarlett looked at him and raised one eyebrow.

“No. No no. This wasn’t Darren again was it?!” He said, his voice getting louder. “Where is he? I’ll kill him!”

“Chris, he’s probably gone home by now,” Lizzie said. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head.

“That little….he has no right treating you like his,” he said. You tilted your head down. He drew in a deep breath and took you from Scar and Lizzie, wrapping you in a hug.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he said, stroking your hair. You cried into his shoulders and hugged him tightly.

“Tell you what, Seb’s using the green room to relax in for a bit this evening. Shall we go and join him?” He asked.

“Will he mind?” You replied, lifting your head slightly.

“Not at all! We could have a group film night if you’re both up for it too?” Chris asked. Scarlett and Lizzie nodded. Chris put his arm around you and all four of you walked to the green room.

“Knock knock,” said Chris, entering the room. Seb was sat on the sofa, scrolling through Netflix.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” Seb asked, turning to greet you all. “Ooh more guests, this is exciting. What’s the occasion?”

“Another incident happened. We thought we could join you and watch a movie together?” Chris said.

“Why of course! The more the merrier!” Seb said. He shuffled up a bit on the sofa and Chris placed you between himself and Seb.

“I’m gonna go grab some food. Do you two mind helping me?” Chris said, gesturing at Lizzie and Scarlett. They both followed him out and into the kitchen area. Coffee and bits of jug were still splattered on the floor so Lizzie bent down to start cleaning it up.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

“Y/N was cleaning this area. She went to wash out the coffee jug and Darren purposely bumped into her so she dropped the jug and he had a proper go at her. She was terrified,” Scar informed him. He hung his head.

“I can’t let him get away with treating her like that,” he responded.

“Well, what are you gonna do?” Lizzie asked, sweeping the floor.

“I don’t know yet. But he’s not getting away lightly,” Chris said. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“I don’t know. I think she’s just putting on a brave face,” Scarlett said.

Chris, Scarlett and Lizzie finished cleaning the kitchen and grabbed some bags of popcorn to take back to the room. When they returned, they found you leaning forwards with your head in your hands and Seb rubbing your back.

“What’s happened??” Chris asked. He put down the popcorn and sat next to you, putting his arm around you.

“She keeps saying everything that happened today is her fault. I’ve told her it isn’t but she’s pretty shook up,” Seb whispered softly.

“Oh Y/N. Nothing that has happened is your fault! We’ve been through this my lovely,” Chris said, gently.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you mumbled.

“What? Chris said.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you said, standing up from the sofa and heading for the door. Chris grabbed your arm.

“Whoa whoa whoa, steady on. Where are you going?”

“Darren was right. I have no right being here. I’m just a runner.”

Another tear fell down your face and Chris’ heart broke.

“Y/N, listen to me. Yes, you are a runner but that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be here. Runners are an important asset to the studios, how else would I get my coffee?! Besides, you’re not just a runner. You’re incredible. You’re the first non-celebrity that hasn’t treated me like royalty and it’s a breath of fresh air,” Chris said. You looked up at him.

“Really?”

“Yes really! Don’t want you bowing down to kiss my feet, they’re not that great,” he said. You gave a shy giggle.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you in for a cuddle. You happily accepted and relaxed slightly in his arms.

“Now then you, we’re gonna have a great movie night, yes?” He asked, you nodded. “Good, but I want you to be happy before we start. Where’s that smile?”

He had a hint of playfulness in his voice. You knew what was coming but didn’t want to fight it, so you buried your head further into his chest.

“Come on...where is it?” He teased. He started poking up and down your sides and you squirmed.

You murmured a giggle into his chest as he continued to poke you.

“Where’s that smile?” He teased. You giggled louder as the pokes turned into squeezes.

“Chrihihihis!” You squealed, trying to twist out of his grip.

“Where are you going?” He asked, bending his head slightly to look at you. His hands squeezed your sides and tickled your ribs, making you squeal. You put your hands on Chris’ stomach to push him away but decided to tickle his tummy instead.

“Hehey!” He yelped, stepping backwards and releasing you from his grip. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“So that’s how you wanna play…” he said. The playful tone in his voice made you giggle but also kicked in the instinct to turn on your heel and run.

Bad move.

Chris lunged at you, as you turned, and picked you up - spinning you in the air before lying you flat on the sofa. You shrieked.

“No Chris!” You pleaded as he sat next to you, trapping you between him and the back of the sofa. He cackled evilly and started squeezing your sides again. You shrieked and kicked your legs out.

Seb, Lizzie and Scar all shared a smile as they watched Chris tease you.

“Show me that smile,” he teased once more. You were going bright red in the face and tried to bat his hands away, but you couldn’t stop giggling.

“Hey Chris, I think it may be in here,” Seb said. Before you realised what was about to happen, Seb had placed his fingers in the crook of your neck and started wiggling them.

“WAIHIHIHIT! You cried, not expecting Sebastian Stan to join in. You scrunched up your shoulders, trapping his hands in your neck, and shrieked.

“Wow, Chris, you’re right. She’s super ticklish!” He teased. Your face turned ruby red as you twisted and turned on the sofa.

“NOHO I’M NOHOHOT!” You cried.

“Oh yes you are,” Seb said. His hands trailed down to underneath you and started tickling your shoulder blades. The noise you made was different to any other you had ever made before.

“Whoa, I think you found a bad spot,” Chris laughed. He started squeezing and spider tickling your tummy and you let out a scream. You kicked your legs frantically as your arms waved around trying to stop the attacks.

“Girls, we need your help!” Seb said. Scarlett and Lizzie looked at each other and laughed. Scarlett got up and approached you.

She positioned herself next to Chris and gently fluttered her fingers over your kicking feet. No one had you pinned so you were free to twist and kick as much as you liked, but as soon as you twisted from one pair of hands you fell right into another.

“Does this tickle Y/N? Does it? Tickle tickle tickle!” Chris teased, now spider tickling your waistline.

“STOHOHOHP SAHAHAYING THAT!” You cried.

“Oh but you’re so fun to tease!” Chris said, laughing evilly.

Lizzie looked over at Chris and narrowed her eyes. Then, a thought hit her. She slowly crept up behind Chris before lunging at him, sitting on top of him so he was pinned to the floor. She wasted no time in shoving her hands under his armpits and wiggling her fingers.

“WHAHAHAT THE HEHEHELL?! AHAHAHAHA!” Chris yelled, taken aback by the sudden attack.

Seb and Scarlett instantly stopped tickling you so you could all watch the action unfold.

“Does this tickle Chris? Does it? Tickle tickle tickle!” She cooed, repeating his own teases. He thrashed below her and boomed out a laugh. You started giggling too.

“I’ve got him, Y/N. Come and get your own back,” she said, turning her head to wink at you. You jumped off the sofa and basically slid over to him.

“Do any of you know his worst spot?” You asked.

“His ears. Get the spot just behind the right one and flutter your fingers over the top of his left one and you’ll have him a babbling mess below you,” Seb said...a little too quickly.

You grinned at him. Lizzie stopped tickling but kept her hands positioned under his arms. You followed Seb’s instructions and, before you knew it, Chris was a babbling mess on the floor. A mix of squeals, giggles and high pitched laughs came out of him as he twisted his head from side to side. Every time he tried to lift his arms to stop you, Lizzie would tickle his armpits and he’d slam them back down again.

“Cootchie cootchie coo, Chris…” you teased. Your heart did somersaults at the sound of his precious laugh.

All of a sudden, Chris let out a booming laugh and jolted his body. You looked up and found Seb trapping one of Chris’ feet with one hand and using the other to scrape up and down his sole. Seb looked at you.

“His feet are his second worst,” he informed you.

You and Lizzie were too distracted by Seb tickling Chris’ foot that neither of you noticed him lifting up his arms. Because you were sitting right next to him, he managed to grab you and pull you over his torso. He held you close to him as his hand trailed up and down your back and sides. You shrieked loudly and bucked your body.

“CHRIHIHIHIS NOHOHOHO!” You cried.

Seb stopped tickling Chris and instead made a lunge for your foot, trapping it in the same way and raking his fingers up and down it. You burst into a loud laughter.

“Oh dear, we really are trapped now aren’t we?” Scarlett teased. She shoved her hands between you and Chris and started tickling both your tummies at the same time. You both shrieked loudly. Lizzie giggled and decided to join Chris in tickling your sides and back. Chris was giggling below you but you were screaming and shrieking before falling into a silent laughter. You hid your face in Chris’ torso and jolted your whole body. They all took this as the sign to stop.

You lay on top of Chris, getting your breath back. He was still giggling which made you giggle more.

“You okay?” He asked, now stroking your hair. You nodded and placed your head on his chest.

“You passed the initiation,” Seb said. You lifted your head and looked at him, brows furrowed.

“What?” You asked.

“You passed the initiation. You got through our torture without murdering us,” he laughed. You got off of Chris and sat on the floor, still giggling. Chris sat up too.

“You’re officially one of us now. That will never change,” he said, pulling you in for a cuddle. “And tomorrow, I promise, I will sort out this mess. Darren will never treat you so badly again, I promise.”

“Just don’t ever clean the set again,” Seb teased. You scoffed and playfully punched him, making him laugh.

Seb, Scarlett and Lizzie shuffled forward and all four cast members engulfed you in a massive hug. You felt so safe and secure, all of your worries left you for that evening.

Tomorrow is a new day.

#tickle fic #avengers cast tickle fic

86 notes · View notes

oh-for-merlins-sake · 4 years ago

Text

TRICK & TREAT | fw

a/n: okay, so i KNOW we’re not exactly in october yet, but spooky season is my FAVORITE season, and i couldn’t resist. if i could have an interminable spooky season every year, my heart would sing tbh. also, side note: thank you to those who have interacted with my previous fic, or who have followed me, or who have showed me any ounce of love at all. like, i’m just hear to party and obsess over the weasley twins in the midst of all of these stellar writers. i just hope to be up to par with them someday. CHEERS! xo

pairing: fred weasley x reader (fem!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: swearing (fred’s a potty mouth, yeah?), gets a little steamy at the end but nothing heart-stopping.

┈┈┈┈

You looked up from your dreadfully long piece of parchment in the library to gaze longingly out of a nearby window. The leaves were finally an amalgamation of bright reds and oranges, and you could almost feel the autumn breeze on your fingertips. Fall was your favorite season, and not just cause it hosted your favorite holiday.

This year, however, Snape decided that he was in no such mood for the Halloween spirit. As a result, an exceptionally long essay on potion making was due bright and early Monday morning, despite the holiday falling on Saturday — today.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times to keep yourself awake, then resumed frantically scribbling on your parchment.

“And how long have you been at this, may I ask?”

You didn’t have to divert your gaze from the parchment to know exactly who was striding toward your table.

“In the middle of something, Freddie,” you mumbled.

“What, that dreadful essay for Snape?” He asked, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Yes,” you sighed, twirling your quill between your aching fingers.

“Oh, come off it — don’t let Snape ruin your Halloween. Put the quill down, and let’s get going,” he insisted, reaching for your quill.

You retracted your hand, raising your brows at him in response. “As if! I can’t fuck around, Fred. This is N.E.W.T. level Potions. He’ll toss me if I hand in anything less than exemplary.”

“The way I see it, Y/N,” he began, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet on the table, “The only reason Snape assigned this essay this weekend is because he’s a proper miserable prat. Just wants to ruin the fun for everyone, I reckon.”

You rolled your eyes, partially at Fred’s persistence, but also at Snape’s total arrogance.

“I propose that you put the quill down and come to the festival! C’mon, assigning an essay on Halloween weekend? Bloody mad, he is!”

You sighed again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and weighing your options.

On the one hand, you needed to do well on this essay (not that you hadn’t been doing well in Snape’s class, but given that it was Snape, one minor error could be one too many).

But on the other hand, you’d probably plucked and polished as much cluttered information from your brain as you could; and there Fred sat, beckoning you with that cheeky grin and those sweet, brown eyes to go to the Hallowe’en Festival in Hogsmeade.

“I don’t have a costume,” you said with a frown.

“Not to worry, love!”

Fred lugged his book bag onto the table with a mischievous grin, rummaging around inside and extracting various crumpled pieces of parchment, empty sweet wrappers, and the occasional contraption. Finally, he chucked a muggle entertainment magazine onto the table that was dated 1989 and began flipping through its pages.

“Dad’s latest obsession are these muggle magazines, and I found this in one of them...”

He eagerly pointed to a spread that celebrated the 50th anniversary of The Wizard of Oz. You let out a rather loud laugh (to which Madam Pince responded by shushing you both).

“What?” He whispered, giggling and playfully shoving your arm.

“You want to go as characters from The Wizard of Oz?” You shook your head, smiling sweetly.

“So you’re familiar?” He beamed at you.

“Yes, Fred, as a muggle born, I’m quite familiar with one of the most famous muggle movies of all time,” you teased.

“So you’ll go as her then?” He asked, pointing to Dorothy.

“Me? Go as her?” You asked incredulously. “I don’t have anything that would work for that costume. And I’m not so sure that anyone would recognize me without — ”

“The rest of them? Don’t worry, love, thought of that too!”

“You just think of everything, don’t you?” You quipped, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re a fucking witch, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll conjure something up,” he reminded.

You opened your mouth to counter, but he swiftly interrupted, "And if you’re concerned with anyone recognizing you, well... you’re looking at none other than Scarecrow himself.” He straightened up and tugged at his collar, wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed again. (“Shh!”)

Fred lowered his voice, “Listen, Georgie’s gonna be the Tin Man, and Gin’s borrowing Luna’s lion’s head for the other one,” he explained. “All we’re missing is Dorothy.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, returning to your parchment with a smirk, “You just need me to complete your costume, ay?”

Suddenly, Fred plucked his wand to summon your quill from your hand to his.

“Come to the Hallowe’en festival with me, Y/N,” he insisted, tossing your dainty quill from one immense hand to the other.

You paused, glaring at him, for he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

“Fine!”

Fred punched the air in celebration before tucking your quill behind his ear and moseying out of the library.

“You’ve got two hours, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

The instant he turned the corner, you stuffed your parchment into your bag and scampered towards your dormitory. Butterflies erupted in the pits of your stomach as you pondered the possibilities of the night to come, and you felt a slow burning warmth trickle from your cheeks to the tips of your toes.

Yes, you were relieved to elude Snape’s brutal homework for the night, but deeper within you resided the covert, overwhelming desire that drove your final decision to go. After a wearisome couple of hours brimful of several twirls in front of the mirror, you ultimately decided your haphazard costume would have to do.

You’d managed to procure a white dress and pair of heels from your wardrobe, enchanting the former to mock the pattern of Dorothy’s dress and the latter to radiate a shimmering ruby red. You straightened out the hem of your dress before skipping out into the entrance hall in search of Fred.

You weaved between clusters of costumed students, noting several muggle characters along the way, including an Ariel, a Marty McFly, and even a Ghostbuster. You spotted a straw-hat poking out from above the crowd and rushed over.

“Well, good evening, Mr. Scarecrow!” You exclaimed, tapping his shoulder.

He spun around. “Bloody hell, it’s Dorothy!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his costume, particularly the bright orange dot carefully painted on the tip of his nose. You appreciated the fact that faux freckles weren’t necessary for his costume, as his sweet speckles did the trick just fine. You were also fairly amused by George’s dingy, silver hat and Ginny’s small head being consumed by Luna’s lion contraption.

“Putting Dorothy to shame, I reckon,” Fred declared, winking down at you.

You were embarrassed at how quickly your cheeks turned color at the compliment.

The four of you nearly sprinted to Hogsmeade, bubbling over with excitement. All of Hogwarts had been feverishly babbling about the Hallowe’en Festival for weeks now, mostly because it served as an excuse to flee Umbridge’s reign of terror. When the announcement came that the shopkeepers of Hogsmeade would be hosting a festival for the students, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief that there was something outside of these walls that would provide a sense of warmth and security that had been missing as of late. It was refreshing, to say the least.

And hell, if it gave you an excuse to spend time with Fred, you surely weren’t complaining.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” Fred exclaimed, vigorously rocking you back and forth, “Bobbing for apples!”

You giggled and bounced along as he tugged you by the hand toward the festivities. George and Ginny followed suit, trailing behind with just enough space behind you and Fred.

Without hesitation, Fred sunk his head into a bucket of water in search of an apple and surprisingly succeeded on his first attempt. He resurfaced, teeth clenched around a scarlet apple, and winked at you before spitting it into his palm. You giggled at the orange paint on his nose; now smeared from the charade.

“Your turn,” he urged, taking a hearty bite from his reward.

Though you weren’t as quick at retrieving one as Fred had been, you eventually managed to reap a bright green apple from the pail. You kept the apple nicely snug between your teeth as you shook the water from your face with a laugh. You held the apple in your palm, turning it over in the moonlight, before taking a bite to indulge in its sweet and sour flavors.

Fred gently pushed back the wisps of hair that were now plastered to your forehead. You swallowed your bite and your staggering desire to taste him too.

“Shall we retrieve some sweets from Honeydukes, Freddie?” You blurted.

“‘Course,” He breathed, hand lingering on your forehead.

You quickly tossed the remnants of your apple in a nearby bin before skipping towards Honeydukes. Fred scampered behind you, laughing at the way you kept balance in your heels.

“Quit laughing at me, Weasley!” You exclaimed, arms shot out on either side of you.

Fred caught up to you and clutched your waist, murmuring, “You can hold me for balance anytime, love.”

Your heart pounded as his fingers tightened their grip before dismissing the feeling with an eye roll and a playful slap to his chest.

The two of you approached Honeydukes, which was festively adorned with strings of misty orange lights and floating jack-o-lanterns. The shopkeeper was tossing free sweets for the taking, and while Fred was able to score some with ease due to his looming height, you had to jump just to try — even in your high heels.

Fred couldn’t help but grin as you grasped at nothing, clinging to his shoulder for balance.

“What are you reaching for, love?” He asked, gently bumping his hip into yours.

“I’m just — ” You hopped again. “Trying — to get — a bloody Sugar Quill!”

Within seconds, Fred effortlessly seized a Sugar Quill and tossed it down to you. You thanked him, beaming up at him as you ripped it open.

He proceeded to catch a few more sweets, including some Chocolate Cauldrons, Pumpkin Pasties, and enough Sugar Quills to tide you over until next Halloween. You both walked aimlessly through Hogsmeade, munching on your sweets and speculating on the whereabouts of the rest of your group. You’d both decided that you’d find them later before plopping down onto a bench to finish off the last of your goodies.

Full of sugar and glee, you almost didn’t notice that Fred’s thigh was in contact with yours — the realization knocking your breath off of its steady course.

You fiddled with a wrapper as you genuinely considered trailing your fingers across his chest and pressing your lips to his under the light of jack-o-lanterns and the smell of cinnamon. You genuinely considered sending him spiraling into oblivion, just as he’d done to you at nearly every interaction. Oh, to make him go weak in the knees for once.

“Fred — ”

Suddenly, a gaggle of first-years scrambled by as Malfoy and his minions hounded them for sweets. You both snapped your heads in their direction, perturbed by the disruption.

“What do you say we put the ‘trick’ in trick-or-treat?” Fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

So close.

After some deliberation of the proper way to exact justice, you and Fred decided to convince some first-years to toss a few Nosebleed Nougats into their bags of sweets. You made certain that they would not touch the Nougats themselves, but that they would instead offer them up to Malfoy when he came hunting for more.

You hurried back over to Fred, who was hiding behind a shop corner, and observed the hysterical events that transpired together. You stifled your laughter as Malfoy yanked the Nougats out of the sack and split them between himself and his mates. The first years scurried away, thankful to have evaded surrendering their sweets, as the prats chewed into their Nougats.

They tossed their wrappers onto the cobblestone and scouted the area for their next victims. They were abruptly interrupted by the blood gushing out of their noses, causing you and Fred to rush into Three Broomsticks in a fit of laughter. You peered out of the window and watched as Malfoy and his mates darted towards the castle, fists pressed against their noses.

“I can’t believe we got away with that,” you admitted breathlessly.

Fred high-fived you, hand squeezing yours, as he tried to catch his breath. He led you to an empty table near the fireplace before wandering off to obtain a couple of warm Butterbeers. You sat down and rubbed your hands together, feeling the cold slowly easing from your fingertips.

“You know what’s always bugged me,” Fred began, sliding your mug across the table and removing his hat.

“Hm?” You hummed, taking a sip.

He sat down and clutched his warm mug. “Why does it have to be trick or treat? Why not both? I mean, everyone loves a good trick, and everyone loves a good treat. I’ve never understood that!”

You laughed, wiping the foam of your drink from your mouth. “You know, Freddie, you make an awfully good point! From now on, you’ll only ever hear me say ‘trick and treat’!”

“Cheers!” He laughed, clinking his mug with yours.

The two of you chatted away in Three Broomsticks for what felt like an eternity. As time passed, folks rolled in and out of the pub, and eventually you found the rest of your party. George and Ginny, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, joined you for some time before deciding they’d had enough festivities for one evening.

As they gathered their things and emptied their mugs, George turned to the two of you and asked, “You two coming along?”

Suddenly, Ginny grabbed George’s arm, forcefully turning him towards the door as she sang over her shoulder, “Goodnight!”

Fred chuckled, taking a swig from his drink, as you fought to suppress the cursed blush that continuously resurfaced on your burning cheeks.

Time continued ticking away as the two of you resumed conversation. It felt natural to sit with Fred, tossing back Butterbeers, bringing each other to tears from laughter, and poking and prodding at the recesses of your minds; Madam Rosmerta was less fond of it, however.

“I’m sure it’s well past your bedtime, lovebirds — out,” she declared.

The two of you gathered your belongings and giggled as you wandered back out into the streets. You caught a glimpse of the time and exclaimed, “Blimey, it’s eleven o’clock! We’ll have to sneak back into the castle at this point!”

“I know a way back,” Fred said with a smirk.

He led you by the hand to a secret passageway tucked in an alley where he assured you it was a safe escape to Hogwarts. You had your doubts about the secrecy of this tunnel, feeling uneasy at the thought of Filch ensnaring you after-hours; but Fred insisted. And if it meant prolonging your evening with Fred, then you had no choice but to follow.

As you crept down the tunnel towards Hogwarts by the guiding light of Fred’s wand, you gently bumped into his side, conspicuously brushing your hand against his. You normally wouldn’t feel so bold, but after the sheer volume of Butterbeer that you’d consumed, you felt particularly daring at the moment.

Fred grinned down at you and gently bumped you back. You stumbled a bit in a fit of giggles that Fred echoed as he snagged your hand in his.

“Easy there, Y/L/N, don’t want you tumbling down the tunnel!”

You took advantage of the opportunity to boldly intertwine your fingers with his. You rested your head on his arm and mumbled, “I’m tired, Freddie...”

“We’re almost there,” he said, fighting a grin and squeezing your hand.

The two of you continued walking for quite some time like this. The remainder of the walk was mostly silent — not because neither of you had anything to say, but mostly because you each had so much to say and ruminated on exactly how to say those things.

Your thoughts raced through your addled brain a million miles a minute, and as you approached the Hogwarts corridor, you cursed yourself for not saying something sooner.

“You fall asleep over there?” Fred chuckled, nudging your head softly with his arm.

You peered up at him lovingly before straightening up to face him. With your fingers still tightly wound around his, you whispered, “Freddie...”

“Y/N,” he playfully whispered back.

You giggled.

“That was a good trick we played earlier, don’t you think?” You asked, taking a step closer.

“One of my finest yet,” he replied, struggling to form full sentences given your proximity.

“And you know what they say...” You said.

“What do they say, Y/N?” He teased, using his free hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Trick and treat... so how’s about a treat?”

Suddenly, you closed the space between the two of you and locked your lips with his. Your lips moved slowly together, almost in shock that this was actually happening. He released your hand in order to use both of his to hold the back of your head, and you stood on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss as you wrapped your hands around his neck.

When your lips parted, you almost whined at the separation.

“That was the best treat yet,” he said with a wink, running his hands down your waist and giving you a squeeze.

You bit your lip and led him down a quiet hallway. “I know I’m supposed to say something like, ‘There’s no place like home,’ but honestly...” you trailed off, stopping in front of a vacant classroom. “I’d much rather be in here.”

Fred’s eyes widened with hunger as you backed him into the classroom, kicking the door shut behind you.

Fred lifted you onto a nearby desk and sighed, “I love Halloween.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley x you

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fleshbarbie · 4 years ago

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Same, but different.

Summary: Billy and Reader don’t particularly like each other, Billy thinks you’re a snob with a perfect life, you think Billy is an asshole with anger issues. That’s until the party starts to hang out more at your house, meaning Billy is there more often than not (because of Max) and thats when you both find out you’re more alike than you think.

“Can you guys keep it down?” You called out to the group, barely being heard over the sounds of the kids arguing and the obnoxious banging on the door.

The only response you received in return was an apologetic smile from Will who seemed to be the only person who had heard you. You shook your head, unable to fight off the amused smile as the rest of the party continued to fight over who was currently winning whatever game they had decided to play for the night. Knowing they weren’t going to shut up until they came to a mutual agreement, you moved on and continued your journey to the front door, where whoever stood on the other side knocked again.

Gripping onto the cold handle, you opened the door with little effort, almost rolling your eyes at who you were now face to face with. Billy Hargrove.

You despised the teen for many reasons, the main one being that nobody stopped talking about him and it only seemed to boost his already over-the-top ego. Wherever you went, you either heard his name or saw his face and it didn’t take long for it to irritate you. It had only gotten worse once the party started spending most of their free time in your living room. The bunch had recently developed a friendship with your younger sister Alice, they shared the same interests and enjoyed her sass and quick wit (which you always argued she got from you).

But that meant that Max Mayfield, Billy’s step-sister was always over at your house - most times you found out she was over without anyone in her household knowing. You always scolded her for it when you found out, telling her that they need to know where she is at all times because, what if there was an emergency? But she didn’t seem fussed, only rolled her eyes and promised that she’d tell them from now on but she never did so you gave up with your lectures.

“Is the little shit here again?”

Billy didn’t bother with a hello, getting straight to the point but you didn’t care. You wanted to get him away from your house as quickly as possible.

“If you mean Max then yes. But I’m only willing to go and get her for you, if you ask me nicely.” You crossed your arms over your chest, raising a brow as you awaited his next response.

He shot you a dirty look, taking a cigarette out of the box he had been holding since you opened the door.

“I don’t have time to play your games (Y/L/N). Just go get her, tell her she should’ve been home an hour ago.” He grumbled, lighting the cigarette that now hung from his lips.

You didn’t move, not an inch. You stood in the same place and stared back at Billy. It only took him a second to realise you weren’t doing what he had told you to do and your stubbornness annoyed him more than he already was when he first arrived.

“Jesus Christ, can you go get her please?”

You smiled at your achievement, it wasn’t something many people could do: get Billy Hargrove to use his manners. You nodded your head, holding up two fingers to signal you’d only be two seconds. He didn’t say anything back, only puffed at the poison stick blowing the fumes into your house.

Half jogging into the living room, your eyes focused on the kids who had stopped arguing over who was winning - only now they were arguing over who was in last place. Sometimes it amazed you how they managed to remain friends.

“Um... Max? Billy’s here. Said something about you being an hour late.” You interrupted their heated debate, they all fell silent at the mention of Billy.

Max threw her cards down on the table, sighing at the thought of leaving her friends and having to put up with Billy for the next half an hour as he drove her home. She said bye to the others, to which they all responded to with their own ‘Goodbyes’ and ‘See you laters’. You smiled at the redhead when she approached you, which she gladly returned. You hadn’t known her for long, maybe two months at the most? But she had quickly become like another little sister to you. She always came to you when things were bothering her. You let her rant and gave her any advice you could manage and she adored you for it.

You led her to the front door which was still open, and you leaned against the doorframe whilst you patiently waited for her to put on her shoes which she had kicked off as soon as she got to your house over three hours ago now.

“Are you coming by again tomorrow?” You asked her.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Both Billy and Max answered at the same time, you looked between the two wanting to laugh at the fact they both wore the same annoyed expression on their faces.

“You think I’m gonna let you out again after the shit you pulled tonight? Do you think I enjoy coming all the way out here for you Maxine? At this time? You’re a pain in my ass.”

Billy finished his small rant by throwing down his cigarette, squishing it into the concrete with the heel of his boot. Max didn’t respond, only pushed past the two of you with an empty look which tugged at your heartstrings.

“Hey, don’t be a dick to her Hargrove. She’s just a kid, they always lose track of time when they’re with their friends. I’m guessing you don’t know what that’s like considering you’ve never had any?” You fired, sending him the meanest glare you could manage.

He chuckled at the insult at first, taking a quick glance into your house. “You’re the one with a house full of kids (Y/N). Don’t have any friend’s your own age?”

With that, he winked at you and strutted away over to his infamous blue Camaro, probably thinking he was amazing for the comeback he had thrown at you. You didn’t bother to waste your energy saying anything back, you knew he’d only enjoy the fact he’d gotten under your skin. Instead you slammed the front door shut, mumbling about how much you hated the mullet haired bastard under your breath.

It was now just past 10:00pm and you had waved goodbye to the last member of the party, Mike’s Dad had disappeared down the street after spluttering a wide range of apologies at you for being late. Something about how he thought Karen was coming to collect him, but when he’d gotten home after a late night shift he realised she hadn’t bothered. Maybe if she knew Billy came over for Max every now and again she’d be more than eager to come get her son.

With an exhausted sigh, you returned to your living room for what felt like the 50th time tonight.

“Come on Alice, you need to get ready for bed now.” You told your sister, her back was towards you as she continued to clean up after her friends.

You joined her on the floor, picking up the cards that Dustin had launched across the room in anger after Lucas had accused him of cheating for the third time.

“Is Mom gonna be home tonight?”

Her voice was quiet, you almost thought you had imagined it until you glanced over to her, only to see her already looking back at you.

You could only shrug, looking back down at your hands, trying to distract yourself by putting the cards into a neat pile.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so, I’m sure she would’ve stumbled in by now.”

You kept your tone light and easy, not wanting to upset Alice.

She sighed but nodded. “You’re probably right.”

Putting the cards back into the box, you opened your arms gesturing Alice to come in for a hug. She didn’t waste any time and launched herself into your comforting embrace. You rubbed her back, pressing a gentle kiss to her head at one point.

“Don’t worry about it too much bug, she’ll probably make an appearance tomorrow like she always does. You know what she’s like.” You paused letting her soak up your words before you spoke again, “Go get into bed, I’ll finish up cleaning. Can’t have you being grumpy at school tomorrow, you’re already on thin ice.”

“That wasn’t even my fault! Miss Richardson is just overdramatic!” She exclaimed, pulling back from your embrace.

You laughed at her reaction, now standing up and helping her do the same. “Oh I’m sure she is, but still.. you need to make sure you don’t get into any more trouble. Can’t have people calling around here.”

You knew at her young age she wouldn’t understand how serious it would be if a teacher came over to speak to your Mom, only to find out she’s not at home and that, honestly, she’s hardly ever here. But she wasn’t stupid either. She knew it wasn’t a good thing that you were practically raising her yourself at this point, and that if people found out changes would be made. Changes that neither of you would enjoy.

So with a sigh, she nodded. “I’ll try.”

—

The next day you made your way to your locker, pushing past a few people who seemed to be walking as slow as they could just to annoy you. You eventually arrived at the same dull coloured locker you looked at almost every single day, and began exchanging the books you no longer needed for the ones you did need. Concentrating on the books, a loud thud beside you made you jump, your hand pressing against your chest in shock.

Looking to your side, you frowned at the sight of Billy leaning against the locker next to yours with a smug grin.

“Should be paying more attention to your surroundings, sweetheart. I could’ve been here to attack you.” He tutted, shaking his head.

“What do you want Hargrove?” You asked, now closing your own locker to focus all your attention on him.

He slipped his hand into his denim jacket, pulling out a slip of paper and holding it out to you. You stared down at it in confusion, focusing on the messy handwriting that was scrawled across it.

“Why are you giving me your number?”

He stood up straighter looking a tad bit annoyed at the fact you hadn’t taken it from him yet, so instead he just shoved it in your pocket, keeping his hand inside whilst he explained so you couldn’t take it out.

“It’s for when Max decides she wants to sneak over again. I need you to call me when she does, so I’m not looking like an idiot searching all over Hawkins for the little brat.” He told you, which was half true.

He hated driving around from house to house trying to figure out which friend she had decided to sneak off with, but he also hated the verbal and sometimes physical abuse he received from his Dad whenever Neil figured out Max wasn’t in her room, or anywhere else in the house - though of course he’d never tell you that part.

“Fine.” You agreed, “I’ll let you know, but don’t come storming over in one of your moods when you have to come get her.”

“Fine.”

After that was said, both of you fell silent not really knowing what else to say. He removed his hand from your pocket, but remained pressed up against the locker beside you. You zipped up your bag, placing the strap back over your shoulder and made a move to get to class, but a grip on your arm prevented you. You planned on tugging yourself away, and giving Billy a harsh glare with a few not so friendly words. But then you realised the grip was gentle and all of a sudden everything you had planned vanished from your mind and instead your were looking back at the taller boy waiting to see what he wanted.

“Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

Now this stunned you. His voice, which always held a hint of annoyance or amusement had been stripped of both and instead he sounded both genuine and concerned. He had never been this way towards you, the pair of you were always throwing insults to one and other, it was weird but the fact that you didn’t mind it made the situation even more bizarre. Recovering from the initial shock, you nodded in response.

“I’m okay. I just had to stay up a little later last night, the kids left me a mess to clean up but I don’t mind.” You told him, which was half true.

The party had left your living room and even a little bit of your kitchen a mess: things had been thrown, drinks had been spilt and half eaten food had been left behind. It took you just over an hour to get it all spotless and back to normal. But you also had a younger sister to look after, and exams to study for, and a part time job that you got in order to help with looking after your sister. All of it left you with not that many hours to sleep and so you attended school with five hours of sleep if you were lucky - though of course you’d never tell him that part.

He didn’t seem to buy it though, staring at you for a few seconds longer before finally nodding, accepting the fact you wouldn’t be telling him anything else. Not that he blamed you. You weren’t exactly best friends. He released the hold he hand on your arm and you didn’t spare him another glance, instead you just sped down the still semi-busy corridor not wanting to be late to class.

Billy watched you, he was intrigued. And he made a promise to himself to find out what you were hiding.

hi! this is my first time writing on tumblr, i usually post my stuff on wattpad but recently i’ve been obsessed with this app and i’ve been reading almost everything steve + billy related. this mini series is something i’ve been wanting to write for awhile now and i’m finally getting it done! i hope you enjoy it, sorry if there’s any mistakes i missed!

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove one shot #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery x reader

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bluejello · 3 years ago

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it’s terror time (again) a fic by PhoenixRisingOntheMoon

Coming to AO3 next week– an apocalyptic Hayffie AU inspired by the game 7 Days to Die.

Featuring three children that somehow ended up in the care of a former alcoholic, feminist!Effie, too-accurate medical terminology in extremely non-accurate scenarios, and Haymitch with a manbun.

And now, for a sneak peek...

She had been gone for two days.

The trip should’ve taken less than 14 hours total.

A cough interrupted Haymitch’s thoughts, and he looked over at the feverish teen laying in the bed. Peeta’s face was dotted along the edges with sweat, and his chest heaved every few minutes as his breath became shallower.

“I don’t know how much longer he can go without medication.”

Haymitch looked up from the bed to meet grey eyes. “I know.”

Katniss let out a shaky breath. “She should be back by now.”

“I know.”

The teenager rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “We shouldn’t have let her go alone.”

“I know.” He sighed and pressed his lips together in a thin line before standing up. “Alright… you stay here with Peeta. I’m gonna find Prim and bring her - and the medication - back.” He grabbed the bag he had packed 12 hours ago - just in case - and shouldered it. “If I’m not back in a day--”

“You will be,” Katniss interrupted, keeping her eyes trained on Peeta and giving him no room to argue.

He nodded and sighed, grabbing the always-present elastic off of his wrist and pulling his hair up and out of his face. “Keep an ear out for any walkers.” He laid a hand on Peeta’s forehead, feeling the fire still raging within him. “Stay alive, kid,” he whispered before setting foot out the door into the cool morning air.

The sun was starting to reach its highest point by the time Haymitch neared the town Prim was supposed to be at. Years ago, when he was a kid and before he had been reaped, this was where his mother would go to get birthday presents for him and his younger brother. They were never well off, and he had told her multiple times he would rather she use the money for herself or the whole family, but she had always insisted on ensuring her boys had something new to open on special occasions, and at least a couple happy memories amongst the rest of life in the Seam.

While winning the 50th Hunger Games brought him more pain and misery imaginable, there was a moment where Haymitch had looked forward to using his Victor earnings to buy his mother something nice to show his appreciation for all of her sacrifices over the years.

Unfortunately, his quick wit in the arena had proved to be their downfall. And everyone else’s in Panem.

#hayffie #thg #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #am i making a bigger deal out of this than i need to ?#yes #do i care #hell no im having a bLAST #spooky month is coming which is the perfect time for spooky fic !#yoloooo #mine #my writing #i have a playlist too so be on the lookout for thatttttt

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toplinetommy · 4 years ago

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Redefining Home - Matthew Tkachuk

Synopsis: After spending months with Matthew in his childhood home in St. Louis, it’s time for him to go back to Calgary, and the reality of your normally long-distance relationship settles back in.

Words: 2k

A/N: very brief mention of the pandemic, gif credit @matthewtkafuck

Three months - almost four; that’s how long you had spent close to every second of every day with Matthew and the entirety of the Tkachuk family. It was a huge change in the way you and Matthew experienced your relationship. Over the past year and a half of your relationship, the entire of it was spent as long-distance.

You had met Matthew when you had just started your career in Chicago, working for your dream company, living in an apartment your younger self could only dream of. Matthew had been in town for a game against the Chicago Blackhawks. They had won, the younger guys on the team opting to go out to celebrate, while you and some of your roommates were celebrating a birthday. One thing led to another and you had quite literally bumped into Matthew’s tall and broad frame while chasing your extremely drunk friend.

That night your friend ended up finding the rest of your group and you seemed to be glued to Matthew’s side the second you guys made eye contact. Sure you got yelled at by your friends the following morning about how you ditched them, but in the long run, no one could complain. You had gotten the handsome, curly-headed NHL player’s phone number with absolutely no intention to ever use it. That was until a few days later a text from an unsaved number popped up, saying it was Matthew from the bar a few nights ago.

With him being a professional athlete in not only another country, but a different timezone, your guys’ relationship had started off with what most people would classify as a friendship based around your clear attraction for one another. Texting each other a few times a day turned into texting all day, every day, which then turned into facetiming any chance the two of you could get. Whether that be during your lunch break at work, him on the team bus to the airport, when you were walking down the city blocks of downtown Chicago, or him skipping his pre-game naps to just to hear your voice.

Your relationship started to shift from two friends to two people that were clearly interested in one another trying to figure out how to discuss those feelings when you were never in the same city and rarely in the same timezone. After weeks of pestering and some convincing from your roommate, you had agreed to get on a plane when Matthew had a string of home back-to-backs one weekend. He convinced you to come to see him play in person and then he could officially give you the wine and dine experience he told you you deserved.

That one weekend trip turned into you visiting him any weekend you could when he was in Calgary and even some when he was in various other cities. It was weekends away with him in his Calgary apartment and him flying into Chicago to spent time with you and your roommates with the very little free time he got.

Weeks and weeks of flying around the North American continent and late-night facetimes when you weren’t together passed by before he had asked you to be his girlfriend to which you excitedly said yes to that one night in his Calgary apartment.

Those weekends spent flying in an out of Chicago were worth it though. Now, here you both were, in Matthew’s childhood home in St. Louis planning for what your guys’ next move was once he got on his flight back to Calgary to start training camp before the playoffs.

You’re sitting on the large sectional in the family living room, your feet laying across Matthews’s lap as he mindlessly rubs his thumb along your shins. You shiver at one particular stroke of his thumb causing Matthew to giggle and playfully squeeze your leg. You kick him playfully while sticking your tongue out, hoping to pull his attention from the tv show playing in front of you two.

“Matthew,” you try, sticking out your bottom lip in a pout. He turns his head towards you raising his eyebrows as he hums out his response. Even though he’s facing you now, his gaze is still focused on the tv in front of him so you try again.

“Matty,” you try again, this time dragging out his name in a whine.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Give me attention.”

“Y/n, we‘re watching tv there’s only so much attention I can give you,” he reasons. He moves one of his hands further up your leg, reaching out to grab one of yours. He pulls your hand, making you sit up from where you’re leaning back against the couch. He continues to pull you until you’re curled into his side, head on his shoulders and legs still in his lap.

He places his hand atop your head, flattening the stray strands of hair before placing a kiss there. Once his lips leave the crown of your head, he keeps his hand there as he continues to push his fingers through your hair and watch the show playing on the tv screen.

You mindlessly move your body around, faking uncomfortableness in order for Matthew to abandon the show and give you his full attention. Once you’ve moved your hand across his chest for what felt like the 50th time in five minutes, Matthew grabs the remote next to him pausing the show.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You’re leaving again in a few days, just wanna spend as much time with you as possible.”

At the admission, Matthew pulls your body further into his lap, maneuvering you so you’re straddling him. He looks into your eyes, noting the soft expression on your face as you look back into his blue eyes.

“Baby,” He starts, his hand wrapped around the side of your neck, thumb resting on your jaw. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“But you’ll be back here and I’ll be back in Chicago.”

“And I’ll come see you when the season’s over, just like I did last year.”

“I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore.” You let out barely above a whisper. Matthew jolts at your response, slightly pushing yourself body away from his as he leans back into the couch cushions trying to put as much space between the two of you he can.

“What?”

“No, not like that,” you smile. “I love you, you idiot, you aren’t getting rid of me that easy. I just meant being apart.”

Matthew sighs heavily at your clarification, his thighs relaxing underneath you. You place your hands around his neck, leaning your body into him.

“I thought you were okay with us doing distance? It’s been working so far, hasn’t it?”

“It was, yeah, I don’t know. I just had this plan and then this whole pandemic hit and you let me come stay here these past few months and it’s just been so nice being around you all the time. It was working before, it just doesn’t seem like the ideal choice anymore.”

“But you had your plan. You’re gonna work your ass off until you get your promotion, then we were gonna talk about moving in together.”

“I know but my perspective has changed,” you start. “How am I supposed to just go back to Chicago without you, not knowing when we’ll see each other again when I got to have some of the best three months of my life with you here in St. Louis. It’s like I didn’t know how amazing it would be to be around you nonstop and now that I know what it’s like I’m not sure I can just go back to Chicago and how we were.”

Matthew tilts his head to look more directly at your face that’s now laying on his chest. He moves his hand to your head, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze. Instead of responding right away, he opts to lean in and place his lips on yours in a gentle kiss that expresses his love for you.

“I love you, so much, baby.” He assures you.

“I love you.”

“So you’re saying that you don’t want to do distance anymore?”

“I don’t think I can, especially not after knowing what it’s like to live with you.” You reiterate.

“I don’t want you to put me before your career, especially when I’ll be gone half the season on the road,” Matthew speaks lowly. He knows the weight of the decision you’re pondering and wants to make sure it’s the right one.

“I want to be with you Matty, all the time, no matter what.” You move away from him, trying to get a better look at his facial features as you speak. “I’ll start looking for jobs in Calgary tomorrow even.”

“You’re serious?” Matthew laughs, eyebrows raised.

“100 percent.” You smile widely, leaning in towards Matthew’s face to touch your lips to his. His eyes stare into yours until your lips meet in a very giggly and teeth-filled kiss. A kiss that’s full of pure elation at the decision the two of you just made.

“It’s more than just getting a job, it’s in a whole new country.” He breathes against your lips.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Instead of you just moving into my place, let’s find a new apartment. My lease ends in November, you can come up then and we can look for a new place. Our place.”

“Can it at least have the same floor-to-ceiling windows you have in your place now?” You request with glee.

“Anything my girl wants, she gets.” Matthew laughs, giving you one more quick kiss and a squeeze at your waist. “Is it selfish of me to say I’m thankful for this quarantine, then? I get you with me 24/7 now.”

You laugh at his suggestion, “How did I get so lucky?”

Brady and Keith both walk in the room as you finish talking, Brady instantly chirping his brother. “You’re the lucky one? I’m pretty sure Matthew’s the lucky one in your relationship.”

Matthew pushes your body away from his, grabbing the decorative pillow next to him and throwing it at his brother’s moving figure. You laugh as the pillow missing Brady and hits Keith instead, who instantly scolds his oldest son.

“You guys look awfully happy.” He comments.

Matthew looks back at you, silently asking for your approval on sharing the news before you nod your head yes. “We’re moving in together.”

“Three months with us and you’re still choosing to move in with him?” Brady chirps once again. “I’m surprised he hasn’t run you out of St. Louis yet.” Keith looks at his younger son at this, giving him a stern look telling him to shut up.

“Congratulations guys,” Keith smiles. “Y/n, whatever happens, don’t get roped into doing his laundry all the time. Despite his complaining, he does know how to do it.”

Matthew rolls his eyes at his family members’ chirps, still basking in the excitement that was your guys’ relationship’s next step. You couldn’t agree more with his earlier statement - you had to be thankful for being stuck at the Tkachuk family home for three months. It took your relationship to the next level, even with the very close encounters where you were sure Matthew was getting under your skin just to piss you off. Matthew was your best friend and you couldn’t wait to be a part-time Canadian, something he liked to call himself with his career. Being with him all day for the past few months only reaffirmed your deep love for the curly-headed boy who sat underneath you.

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #alex writes #nhl imagine #chucky the rat

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ladynoirelf · 4 years ago

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Dark Crystal Tik-Tok challenge: My s/o doesn't love my anymore.

Deet to Rian:

Mitjan was preparing lunch when the holo-crystal rang. He pressed it up from its sheath with his elbow to accept the transmit.

“Hello”?

“F-Father”.

Mitja whipped his head at the sound of his daughter sniffling and on the brink of tears. Paternal instinct began to surge through him.

“What happened Deethra”? He asked, trying to keep the panic down in case it was nothing.

“R-Rian...He said”. Deet dramatically covered her mouth with a trembling fist “He said that he doesn't love me anymore”.

“I did NOT say that! Why are you lying to your father”?! Rian called off the screen. Mitjan couldn't tell if he sounded annoyed or was in jest.

“What did you say then”? Deet sniped at her right.

“I just said that I’m not buying you a fizzgig. You have a whole farm of slimy worms back home, those are your pets”.

“But they're not here, are they”?!

“I'm not having a fuzzball rolling over and shitting on my carpet”!

Deet rolled her, turning back to her father “So yeah this relationship might not last long”.

“Oh Deet”. Mitjan sighed, cutting off the call and going back to cooking lunch.

Rian to Deet:

Gurjin was shocked that Rian was calling him right now. Usually when he was on a date with Deet his phone would be on vibrate so he could focus on their activity.

Thinking the worst, Gurjin picked up after the first ring.

“What's wrong”?

“Deet doesn't love me anymore”.

“...huh”?

Gurjin could make out his friend’s monotone expression, imagining a look of deadpan on his face.

“My girlfriend of 2 years doesn't love me anymore”.

“I didn't say that”! Deet exclaimed, clearly sounded offended.

“What did you say then”? Rian challenged, leaving Gurjin to wonder if he should have even picked up the phone.

“I said I didn't want to go to the armory expo with you, I’ve been seven times I’ve had enough”.

“It's the same thing”!

“No, it is not! I'm tired of learning about the different wars and the glorification of bloodshed. Can't we go to the zoo or something ”?

“You liked it the first seven times”.

“I just started dating you, I was being nice”.

Gurjin hung up just as Rian let out a scandalous gasp. This sounded like a private matter.

Brea to Kylan:

“Darling, your sister is calling”.

Tavra turned off the treadmill, taking the towel Onica offered before her cell phone.

“Thanks, love” she grabbed the water bottle before answering the holo call “Hello”?

“T-Tavra”.

Said sister was greeted at the sight of her sister dramatically crying with glossy amber eyes.

“What's wrong this time”? Tavra chuckled, recognizing the famous crocodile tears her sister is known for in their household.

“T-T-Tavra” Blubbered Brea “Kylan told me...he doesn't love me anymore”.

A tanned hand gently landed on Brea’s head, giving her assuring head rubs. Tavra immediately recognized the affectionate gesture to come from Kylan.

“Brea, I just said I wouldn't marry you today”.

“It's the same thing”! Brea cried, burrowing her face into the couch arm.

“We’re still in university and I don't have enough money to get you a ring or-”.

“WELL GET ONE THEN! PLEASE”! Tavra winced at her sister’s harsh wailing through the speaker.

“I said soon...maybe”.

“Well it seems that two have that figured out. I'm gonna go mack on my girlfriend now, see ya”.

“TAVRA WAIT!! CONVINCE YOUR FUTURE BROTHER TO-”.

Tavra quickly cut off her sister’s pleas, hurrying to find Onica.

Kylan to Brea:

Naia sipped a bit of her smoothie before answering her phone after the first ring. As she always did when Kylan called.

“Yo”.

“Hey”. sighed Kylan, he sounded dejected which caused Naia some concern.

“Are you...Okay”?

“Yes, I mean as okay as one can be when their significant other tells them they don't love you anymore”.

Naia bit her lip when she heard a soft groan from Brea.

“I did not say that”!

“Oh no? Clarify what you said then”?

“I just said, respectfully and kindly, I'm not watching ‘Jara-Jen’ with you for the 50th time this week’”.

“Oh wow, seriously Klan”. Quipped Naia with a smirk.

“Hey! It's a good series and with amazing plot and dialogue”!

“I know because we’ve seen it 50 times this week”.

“It's a good show, Naia can you support me here please”.

Naia sucked her teeth “SSory Ky, gonna have to go with Brea on this one”.

“Fine, You're dead to me for the next five minutes”. With a humph, the click of the end of the call signaled Kylan hanging up.

Naia looked at her phone in confusion.

“Why specifically five minutes”?

Mothria to Gurjin:

A little while later after Kylan’s little call, Naia was surprised to get a call from Mothria who was often too busy on this day.

She set her bola crafting down to answer.

“Hi Mothy”.

“Your brother no longer loves me”.

“What! That is a lie. Why the fuck you lying”.,

Oh Thra, again?

“Awww, is he being a jerk again”? Naia cooed.

“Yeah he is”.

“All I said was I'm not going to ditch my friends at the movies so you can go to couples yoga”.

“I'm hearing ‘let's break up, I no longer love you Mothria”.

“For the love of Agura”.

“Who misses out on an opportunity to see their girlfriend in tight yoga pants”. Naia bit back a mocking giggle.

“A gelfling who wants to see guts and gore”.

“... Gurjin I feel I should apologize to you”.

“Why”?

“For taking most of your brain cells while we were in the womb together”.

Naia cackled as she hung up and tossed her phone next to her, returning to her crafting with a mischievous smile.

Gurjin to Mothria:

Rian groaned as he was rudely interrupted from his nap by the blaring of his phone.

His hand stumbled as he tried to find it on the coffee table, unintentionally knocking some of the knickknacks off.

“Hey” he responded with a groggy voice, arm over his eyes.

“Rian, my friend, comfort me in my time of need”. Gurjin’s begging didn't even stir the man from his half-sleep.

“What do you want”?

“Mothria, my beloved lovemoth of four years, has told me that she doesn't love me anymore”.

“That is not what you said you dinkleberry”!

Rian pulled the phone away from ear at Mothria’s booming voice.

“Well what did you say?! Explain yourself woman”!

“I said you can't grope my butt when we shop. We’ll get banned”.

“Don't worry about that we can ask my mom to lift the ban if we do”.

“How would we explain that? ‘Hey Maudra Laesid, your son likes to sexually grope me while we're shopping and that leads to us being banned. Could you lift it please so we can continue to do so without consequences”?

“...I probably would word it differently, but yeah something like that”.

“Oh my-”.

Rian cut the line off, leaving the sogling couple to their dispute and allowing him to return back to his nap.

#Dark Crystal #dark crystal age of resistance #deet x rian #brea x kylan #gurjinx oc #royalmelody #stonegrot #OCxCanon #naia #Gelfling #gelfling oc #mothria #gurjin #Rian #brea #kylan #deet

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yamithediaperdork · 4 years ago

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when a deal backfires (Inuyasha)

When a deal backfires

Inuyasha was NOT a happy camper as him and Kagome waited in the room they had rented for the night. Of course ever since a curse had been laid on him that left him with ZERO bladder and bowel control he had rarely been a happy camper anyways so by this point she was used to him sulking like a toddler who didn't get his dessert. "I can't believe you went and worked this out behind my back." The pampered puppy growled for about the millionth time (OK, it was more like 50th but he was getting annoying!) "Inuyasha, at the risk of sounding like a broken record.. We both know that we need jewel shards right? that's the only way to give you back a degree of control? and we can't start chipping up how much of the jewel we've put together JUST for that." She Said, using the same tone of voice one would use with a slow child. "Well..Yeah. It would be nice to stop crapping myself..but..can't we just go beat up some random monster an-" He started, rising off of the soft bed with a bit of a struggle. Between the softness of the mattress and the thick bulky plastic diapers Kagome brought from the future (Along with a red onesie the half demon was currently wearing) It took more effort then he wanted to admit and he wasn't fully on his feet when she rolled her eyes and shoved him back onto the bed. "Look pup." She started, smirking and knowing how much he HATED his new nick name. "Face the facts, there's no way you can kick a jewel charged demons ass by yourself in this state. and if the others help they'll insist the shards join the others. you already know this. SO, Who do we know who might be willing to trade his shard, both of them that we need for this, in return for one night of fun." she asked, cupping Inuyasha's chin as he sat back up blushing. "Well? Come on, so me you're still a clever boy~" Inuyasha huffed and whined, he HATED it when she treated him like some dumb toddler, well mostly. but the part of him that liked it was being ignored. "Koga." He huffed and crossed his arms. "Still don't think you whoring yourself out to him is right though." "...Heh..Is THAT what you think the deal is? Oh Inuyasha, you realllly need to learn to pay attention. I've repeated myself HOW many times and you still think -I'M- the one he wants to play with?" She asked with a amused smirk. "...Well who else would...it..." Inuyasha trailed off and then blushed bright red as it dawned on him why Kagome had sent his clothes off to be cleaned when usually she kept the purse string tight. She had trapped him in the room unless he wanted everyone to see his baby outfit! "Ding ding ding! Winner winner chicken dinner." Kagome giggle and tapped a finger on the pups nose. "I'D RATHER KEEP FILLING MY PANTS WITH CRAP THEN BLOW THAT BASTARD!" Inuyasha yelled. "geez, say it a little louder, i don't think everyone in the inn heard you.." She said wincing, and putting a finger to her ear. "And you WILL do this because I'm blowing though all of my savings keeping you in disposables. if you wanna keep pooping your pants fine...but we're switching to cloth diapers and YOUR washing them." "...You know there are times when I reallllly hate you?" Inuyasha asked.

Koga was all grins as he came into the inn and got Kagome's room number. he'd of course heard the rumors about how Inuyasha had gone from a bad ass to a smell one but he wasn't sure he believed it till Kagome had contracted him about a little deal. She'd of course offered herself up at first in trade for the shards but as tempting as that was (and it was VERY) there was one thing he loved the thought of more: Making that mutt suck his cock dry while he was in a shitty diaper. It would be the ultimate combination of fulfilling a old wet drink of his and putting the mutt in his place and heck, he was getting ready to settle down and stick around the cave anyways. Knocking on the door, Kagome opened it and smiled. "Koga, please come in, your date is ready for you." she said with a impish grin. Yeah, he wasn't stupid, He knew part of her wanted to see this just as much as him with what a royal pain the pup had been. "Why thank you Kagome." he said and strolled past her, look eyes on Inuyasha. the pup was standing in the corner, naked save for a pair of what looked like diapers but make out of some weird material and had a bunch of animals on them and they were around his ankles. the reason they were was clear as even in the weak lamp light of the room, The Half demon's cheeks were bright red and Inuyasha was fighting back sobs. "oh my, was SOMEBODY a bad boy?" Koga asked amused. "He tried to tell me that I couldn't watch, and even after I got him a jungle print rearz too." Kagome said in a mock pouty voice. "...A what with the what now?" Koga asked, rubbing the back of his head. "A expensive diaper from my time, but they hold a lot AND make him ever so cute." She explained. "Shame on you Inuyasha! She went and spoiled you and you can't return the favor?" Koga tsk'ed and wagged a finger. "I have half a mind to tan those cheeks myself!" "N-No please! I'll be good!" The pup yelped and then a spurt of pee came out of his less then impressive manhood soaking the corner. "Pfffffttt..Well Ok. I suppose..but that was your ONE mulligan. if you misbehave again it;s spanky spanky time." Koga said then added. "and you better pull up your diapies before you flood the room." "Yes sir." Inuyasha mewed, instinctively going beta in the state he was in and yanking his diaper up. "M-May I come out of the corner ow?" "Wow, one spanking and he's so polite. you should of been spanking him this whole time!" Koga noted. "and yes you may buddy." "oh, it doesn't last for more then a hour sadly." Kagome said going and taking a seat at a small table and wishing she'd brought her camera with her. 'I wonder what kinda money this would make in my time...ticking off a lot of fetish boxes here..' she mused.

Inuyasha hated how small and weak he felt, it was just what happened after a good sound spanking over Kagome's lap and he was just glad he hadn't had to address her yet cuz when he was THIS subby he called her mommy without thinking about it. He didn't have to ask what was expected of him as Koga took a baby bottle loaded with icky stink juice (Ok, that wasn't the name of it but it's what Inuyasha called it as it tasted as bad going down as it smelled coming out) and then sat on the bed and patted his lap. "Come here little guy, You look thirsty." Inuyasha went to open his mouth to warn Koga of what that baby bottle of YUCK was gonna do but realized the pervy bastard already know and accepted his fate, toddling over and sitting in the demon's lap. "Um.." Inuyasha started. "Yes?" Koga asked. "Mommy usually ha-" he started before being cut off "Oh, Mommy huh? Adorable!" Koga chuckled with Kagome joining in. "K-Kagome I mean!" Inuyasha yelped and his hands covered his mouth. "oh No. Mommy sounds much more fitting, and I'm sure Kagome doesn't mind..right?" Koga asked. "Pffftt..Not at all. but only if you make sure to call Koga daddy little guy." She called over. "Took the words right out of my mouth! Now, you were saying babykins?" Koga asked. "...Mommy Normally has me lay down and just put my head in her lap..Like..I dunno how this is gonna work...daddy." Inuyasha said, shutting his eyes tight as he said the D word and wishing he could block out the sound of Kagome laughing. "oh well, not to insult your mommy, she's clearly strong enough to paddle your behind after all, but I think i can handle cradling a silly little pup in a big boys body." Koga chuckled and then moved Inuyasha with ease into the feeding position. As much as Inuyasha didn't WANNA open his mouth, Kagome had done this with him more then once (though normally with honey sweeten milk as a reward) and his mouth opened up on it's on and then he took in the nipple and suckled greedily, even as he scrunched up his face. "Awww it's ok little guy, Daddy has something MUCH sweeter for you to suck on after this." Koga promised. "Fuck yeah." Kagome mewed. "Watch the potty mouth around the baby!" Koga scolded and frowned. "Eep! Uh..Yes sir." She mewed as Inuyasha giggled a little despite all the YUCK in his mouth.

Watching Inuyasha work the bottle was having a conflict of interest rise up in Koga in more then one way. First: Inuyasha's eager nursing and greediness was making Koga start to tent his loin cloth and he wasn't sure if he was gonna be able to let the little guy finish his bottle, let alone burp him and want for him to go uh-oh. Second: Inuyasha just looked so sweet and pure at the moment he wasn't sure if he could even bring himself to face fuck him anymore, though hell yeah he'd still play with the baby. Third: He was regretting the choice to let Kagome stay in the room already but knew she had a duty to make sure Kagome didn't hurt the baby (well beyond a spanking) Fourth: while he was of course going to hand over his shards, he wasn't sure if he was willing to hand over the cutie back to her when she clearly was going to keep being a mean mommy. All of this added up together made Koga sure of one thing,he'd gotten a crush on the dork without meaning to. 'Damn it!' Koga thought. 'I have to stop being such a sucker for cuties!' Inuyasha had closed his eyes again, clearly the gooey mixture in the bottle didn't taste all that good but Kagome had promised that it worked wonders on clearing Inuyasha out when he got all backed up. "Actually, it might work too well if your sense of smell is as strong as his. all he can do is whine 'stinky!'" after he loads his pampers." Kagome had said. well, ok..Koga's might of been even stronger but there was no way he was going to NOT see something that sounded THAT cute even if it stringed a few nose hairs. A deep rumbling fart from Inuyasha's backseat brought him back to the moment and Koga went to say something when the smell hit him. "Good god, what have you been feeding him!?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. if it hadn't of been for the fact he was holding the baby he would of pinched his nose shut! "Oh, mostly bean paste and the like, food fit for a baby. Shippo gets a kick out of spoon feeding him." Kagome said. "...Your kidding right?" Koga asked, raising a eyebrow. "Of course I am. he's still on his normal diet of ramen noodles and whatever he can hunt." she chuckled. "you should of seen the look on your face!" "you know, you're not funny."

Kagome had to disagree there, but kept her mouth shut. while they had been busy she'd slipped in a pair of nose plugs and would of offered a set to Koga but he was turning out to be a real wet blanket. 'Maybe when he's suffering enough he'll go back to making this hawt.' She thought and watched as Inuyasha started his pre poopie ass blaster attack. poot after rancid poot escaped the big babies back side as he finished his ba-ba and then OMG.. As Koga wiped the babies mouth and moved to burp him Inuyasha mewed. "I'm sowwy I'm so stinky daddy." And the hell of it was, he honestly DID look like he was sorry. not his fake saying it with a smirk that she got. She wasn't sure if she should find that adorable or a piss off since she had been the one changing his shitty ass all this time. "it's Ok buddy. you're just a little pup who can't help it." Koga said and then had Inuyasha's head over a shoulder and was patting and rubbing his back. Inuyasha mewed and then let out a massive belch that made Kagome jump out of her seat and landed painfully on her ass and the jolt knocked her nose plugs out. As the full stink of the room filled her nose she whimpered and put her hands to her nose then got up and dashed out of the room quickly crying out a "I'll leave you guys alone later bye!" she stumbled in a blind panic to get to fresh air and didn't stop till she was outside and huffing the fresh country air.. or at least that was the plan till she got a lung full skunk scent. "...Fuck it, still better then in there."

Finding the nose plugs and cleaning off Kagome's and spotting the extra pair and getting them in Inuyasha's nose and his, Daddy and baby where able to enjoy each others company much easier now and Inuyasha found that if he didn't have to SMELL it, he liked the feeling of a squishy loaded diaper, triple so since Daddy had giving him a stinky horsey ride in his lap that MIGHT of made the big baby make a different mess in the front of his diaper. Likewise before he he got a diaper change Inuyasha returned the favor as best he could with his mouth (he was unskilled but Koga assured him that he would get lots of practice.) That was because before Kagome came back Koga made a command decision for Inuyasha and carried the now clean little guy in just his onesie out of the inn and took his diaper bag with him. He left three things for Kagome in the room: a note explaining that he had altered they're deal and was keeping Inuyasha to be HIS little boy, and advised her NOT to come looking for him. As promised both of his jewel shards, and a extra one he'd earned recently before showing up, to show he could be fair and Inuyasha's stinky diaper. Needless to say she was less then thrilled to have lost her boyfriend (even if she had been cucking him) though getting three of the shards was a major score. She totally could of done without having to come back into the room reeking of skunk and getting hit with the stink of the poopie diaper and while waiting for the twin stinks to fade off of her, wondered just how she was gonna explain this out to the others.

Inuyasha for his part was quickly accepted into the pack and was everyone's little brother, beloved for the most part save for when he had a stinky diaper.

The end

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swatheford · 4 years ago

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golden anniversary

(swatheford short #1) gary and miss wilkins are some blog favorites (some might say a few might love them too much) and i actually had a backstory for them! i promised that i'd release it when i reached 400 followers and i did yesterday so thank you! a little 1k short awaits below the cut! :)

"Savannah! Reese! It's time to frost the cupcakes!" A frail voice calls out as feet frantically pad across the wooden floor. Two children around five and nine, peek over the tall table. Miss Wilkins wore a gentle smile on her face; one that held a warmth which never seemed to weather as she grew old.

24 cupcakes were placed on a platter and the children started to grab at them. "Remember not to add too much, okay?"

"Yes, Gran!" Multiple bowls filled the table, each packed with colorful frostings. All three of them sat around the table and the boy wasted no time decorating. With an eager grip, he took a spoon and heaved a rather generous scoop of frosting on his chocolate cupcake.

"Gran?" a quiet voice piped up. Savannah looked up at her grandmother in awe, dark locks held into two sprouting pigtails.

"Yes, dear?"

"Can you tell us more stories about Grandpa?" At that, Miss Wilkins' smile wavered as she took a deep breath.

"Of course I can. But first," a shaky hand reaches out to wipe a swipe of pink frosting from her granddaughter's cheek. "Remember the aquarium we go to in Castellan with all the jellyfish and sharks?"

"Ooh, yeah! Those were so cool!" The boy chimed in before messily drizzling his cupcake in frosting.

"Well that was where your Grandfather proposed," her heart swells fondly at the memory. She remembered the confident grin on his face as the light ripples of water danced across his features. His eyes glimmered like opalesent pearls. She couldn't forget him if she tried.

"What was he like?"

"You know your Grandad,” she chuckled. "Even then he was funny and confident." Her husband had always been smooth, anything he did wasn’t complete without a golden grin. It wasn't long until she fell for him. "We were looking at the otters and two of them linked arms with each other. He tapped my shoulder and said ‘apparently otters link arms with the one they love so even when they sleep, they won't drift away from each other. Just like us," her voice grew shaky and a breeze whipped past her thin arm, as if his ghost softly linked arms.

Reese tilted his head, "What about the fish? Didn't Grandpa love fish?"

"He loved all kinds, especially the koi fish in the garden area. We'd go there so often that it became our second home. By the end, he gave every single one of them a name."

"Did he name one of them Reese?"

Miss Wilkins chuckles, "He sure did."

Savannah raised a hand covered in coloring, "What about Savannah?"

"Of course, my love." The siblings shared a smile.

"So what happened next?"

"Well we were at the koi pond and he searched his pockets, fishing for something-"

Another set of footsteps interrupted Miss Wilkins' train of thought. Her son, Ethan, emerged from the backyard, pants stained with dirt. He wipes his brow and smiles at the sight. "You telling them about how Dad popped the question?" She nods as he silently asks to finish the story. He takes a seat at the table, unwrapping a cupcake. "Let me tell you, Gramps was really something. He was actually a magician,” Ethan flourished as his children looked at him, fascinated.

“Why didn’t he teach me?”

“A magician never tells his secret,” he winks and sits back. “Anyways, he was searching for the ring and found it behind Gran’s ear! Just like that, he proposed.”

“What did the ring look like?” Savannah asked, practically jumping out of her chair in anticipation. Miss Wilkins slid her hand across the table, revealing a golden band with two small diamonds in the center.

“Wow,” she gasped. Ethan stood up, stretching before ruffling Reese’s red locks.

“That’s Gramps for you,” he chuckled before clapping his hands together. “Start to finish up your cupcakes, kiddos. We’re gonna leave soon.”

“But I wanna stay with Gran!” Reese pouted and pushed himself off the chair before tottering to embrace Miss Wilkins.

“You’re coming over next week, dear. Don’t worry,” she rubbed his back soothingly. At the mention of visiting again, Reese completely forgot about his sadness and replaced it with excitement. He resumed to cover the cake with sprinkles as if nothing happened.

Ethan clicks the seatbelts in place before closing the backdoors of the car. He turns to face his mother who presses a kiss to his cheek. The look in his eyes was all too similar to her husband's. "Thanks for watching them, Mom."

“Castellan’s got you all formal, dear. You don’t have to thank me,” she chuckled. “How’s the backyard looking?”

“Spotless if I do say so myself,” he grins. “The pond is ready by the way. I’m guessing that it’ll be home to a few koi?” Ethan already knew the answer and the look on his mother’s face confirmed it. He nods, brushing away dark locks from his face before reaching into the car. “I was cleaning up the house the other day and I found this old thing collecting dust.” He places a box in her hand. "Happy Anniversary, Mom.”

From the red cardboard, she knew what was inside. With gratitude, she wrapped her son into a warm hug. “Thank you, dear.”

Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets sheepishly before looking back to the car where Reese giggles. "The more he grows up, the more he’s acting like Dad.”

“You know, you were like that too. I guess it runs in the family," she chuckles. “I’ll see you next week, okay? You have a long drive ahead of you.”

With one last hug, Ethan waved goodbye. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too.”

Miss Wilkins gently opens the box to reveal a photo album. It was like opening a time capsule as her mind drifted to the same mentality as her wedding day. She remembered how youthful and free she felt that summer afternoon. The tattered page flipped to reveal a photo of the radiant couple at the altar and her heart soars, soaking in the happiness and longing. A thumb caresses over the closeup of her husband, clad in a crisp suit.

"Oh Gary," she whispers. "Happy Anniversary, dear."

It would've been their 50th anniversary if he wasn't taken away too soon. As the days passed by, he grew weaker and weaker; barely hanging on. Through his final moments Gary still wore the same charming smile on his face as if nothing ever happened.

Her moment of sadness faded away as she reached for a container in the cupboard. The lid clicks open as she pours out a scoop of fish flakes before standing in front of the tank. A small goldfish swam around aimlessly as she softly poured the flakes into the water. Miss Wilkins takes a seat in the weathered armchair by the fish tank, fiddling with the golden band on her left hand.

Apparently otters link arms with the one they love so even when they sleep, they won't drift away from each other. Just like us. She smiled knowing that Gary kept his promise through fifty years and fifty more.

yay! now y'all know about gary's namesake! hopefully this made someone emotional because i was tearing up while typing this up. granted it might've been because of my depressing cello playlist or the fact that it was 1 am, but hopefully it made y'all feel something! thank you again for 400, i'm constantly blown away by y'alls support and i'm truly grateful for y'all! i can't wait to share more with each and every one of you. :)

#swatheford shorts #miss wilkins #gary the goldfish #secrets of swatheford #stf

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bangcrizpychan · 5 years ago

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Blood Is Not Always Thicker Than Water

☆Pairing: Mafia underboss!S.Coups x Reader

☆Genre: heart-sickening angst, mafia!au, pregnant!Reader au

☆Requested:Yes

☆Word count: 2.2k

⚠WARNINGS: suggestive themes, blood, violence, drug usage, death, swear words, and A MASSIVE EXPLOSION OF ANGST FROM ANGSTVILLE, *read at your own risk*

☆Summary: You were the city Mayor’s daughter, he was a Mafia underboss, a relationship that never should’ve started in the first place. Will you be able to go against all odds?

☞Note: since the request didn’t really specify whether the fic is going to be an angst or fluff, I went full blown ANGST. THIS IS 100% ANGST (╥_╥), so grab a tissue and have an angsty reading♡

You fixed your skin-tight dress and dark red lipstick then looked at your boyfriend, Seungcheol, who smirked at you and eyed you hungrily. You seductively walked towards him, every step making your heart pound with excitement. You have been dating for a year now, but the thrill of having a mafia underboss as a lover when you’re supposed to be an angel to your father’s eyes, who was the city Mayor, still exhilarates you.

You straddled Seungcheol’s lap and attacked his neck, he sighed at your touch and let his hands roam your figure. You grazed your teeth against his soft spot and it earned you a beautiful moan coming from him, oh how you loved the noises he make and you knew that you were the only one that can weaken him like this. You started to unbutton his shirt when a sharp knock interrupted your session.

Seungcheol let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his temples, “come in,” Jeonghan, a capo, went inside and gave a letter to Seungcheol. “It’s a VIP invitation to Congressman Han Seongsu’s 50th birthday,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Why do I need to go to that old scum’s birthday?” “He is one of our loyal customer, and there will be a transaction on that day to send more of our package to Jeju.” You almost felt bad for Jeonghan, Seungcheol seems to be mean towards him like every time.

“And your it was your father’s orders to you send there,” you rubbed circles on your boyfriend’s chest to soothe him. Seungcheol’s father is the current Mafia boss and Seungcheol is his successor since he’s an only child. “Also, you need a date before going there.” Jeonghan added and shot you a look, He ‘tsked’ and sent Jeonghan away with his hand, who left without saying another word. He took a deep breath and looked at you, a smirk back on his lips.

“So, where were we?” you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “we were starting this part,” you smashed your lips against his and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. His chest rumbled with laughter, “you seem so eager baby, don’t worry, we’ll get there.”

Your tongues played together as you discarded each other’s clothing, ending the night with passion and pleasure filling the air.

—–

You let out a shaky breath when you saw the pregnancy test; two visible lines that seemed to taunt you. You were pregnant, “No, i-it can’t be,” you were sure that you were on pill, so why was this happening?!

When you finished crying in the bathroom, you decided to call your best friend, Seungkwan, to ask for guidance. He agreed to meet you at his apartment so you got ready and headed there as quickly as you could.

When you arrived at his place, you completely broke down in his arms, he whispered comforting things and your ears and soothed your back.

“y/n, what happened?” he asked and handed you a glass of water, you took a sip and explained yourself, “I-I don’t know Seungkwan, we were careful!” you sobbed, Seungkwan knew you had a boyfriend, but he didn’t know what kind of person Seungcheol is. What would he do to you if he finds out?!

“You have to tell your boyfriend, y/n, and your family,” “I know, but I-I’m just scared.” that was a lie, you were completely terrified, you were allegedly a good girl in your family’s eyes, to them, you finished University without any boys bothering you. But most of all, you were terrified of Seungcheol, he loved you, you knew that, but you’ve seen what he was capable of. He had ended someone’s life in front of you before, what if the next person that will stand at the end of his gun is you?

Seungkwan babied you the whole time you were at his place, you watched your favorite shows together and ate a lot of sweets. Your phone beeped in the middle of the show and your blood ran cold when you saw the text.

“come home. Now,” it was from your brother, Joshua. You bid Seungkwan goodbye and went home anxiously. When you arrived at your place, you saw your brother, who was still in his uniform, and your mother sitting in the living room. “What’s going on y/n? Why did your brother drag me here and called for a ‘family meeting’” your mother asked, twirling his diamond ring, almost looking bored.

“I want to know what’s going on as well,” your brother reached out from his pocket and pulled out a plastic, “care to explain what the fuck this is, y/n?!” you flinched at your brother’s voice. He handed the plastic to your mother who then screamed when she pulled out what was inside. Your maids rushed to the living room to see what the commotion was but you stood there still, staring at the pregnancy test that was dropped on the floor.

“How could this happen, y/n??!” your mother cried, the maids brought her tea to calm her nerves but she refused and continued to sob. “what the fuck were you doing in my room?!” you demanded to your brother, tears streaming down your face.

“You think I wouldn’t notice you looking sick and barely eating anything?! You think I wouldn’t see the signs?!” he yelled at you, “Who the fuck is the asshole?!” No, he couldn’t know, he should never know. “Oppa! Please don’t, don’t tell Dad, I beg you” you dropped to your knees and begged your brother. Your mother was stopped sobbing for a second, and thought about rushing to your side but she was too weak to do so.

“Just tell me his fucking name, I can charge him with rape and I’ll cuff that motherfucker myself,” you chanted a series of nos and I’m sorrys. If you weren’t that terrified before, you are now. Your brother is a police officer and if he knew that the father of your unborn child was a mafia underboss, he would definitely kill him.

In the middle of the chaos, you decided to run away, you heard your mother call out your name but you didn’t care, you got into your car and drove as fast as you can. You called Seungcheol and he decided to meet you at the Hangang Bridge.

He lit up your cigarette that was hanging in your lips a little too long. “What happened, sweetheart?” “I got into a fight with my brother,” you sucked some smoke in and slowly blew it out. “Do you want me to take him out?” Seungcheol suggested, which you would’ve laughed at if you didn’t know he was serious, but you knew he could definitely kill your brother. You just scoffed and let the silence took over you.

“Do you love me, Seungcheol?” you asked out of the blue, Seungcheol disposed of his cigarette and took yours off from your mouth. “Of course I do baby, I love you so much,” “Well, what do you think about babies?”

He chuckled and smoked the rest of your cigar, “I mean babies are adorable, but they’re so fucking annoying to look after.” you lowered your head and muttered a single ’oh’. “why? Do you want to make little Seungcheol or little y/n to pester us?” he laughed and cupped your face.

“Because I’m definitely down with the baby-making process,” he said and crashed his lips to yours, you tasted the minty flavor of the cigar and the scene alone made you feel hot. Maybe you could tell him after tomorrow’s event.

—-

You turned a lot of heads when you entered the congressman’s manor, you were wearing a silver long gown that barely covered your breasts, and Seungcheol loved the fact that he can show off your beautiful body and let them know that you were his.

“y/n??” you stopped your conversation with the congressman’s wife and whipped your head to the direction of the voice. Your eyes widened when you saw your father together with your mother. “M-Mom, Dad? What are you doing here?” “What the hell are you doing here?! You ran away from home and now you’re attending a party?!” your father scolded.

“Guys? What’s going on?” Joshua appeared behind them and then looked at you, “y/n? What are you doing here?” he quickly shooed your parents away to talk to you. As you and your brother started to talk, Seungcheol suddenly appeared at your side.

“Hey baby, who’s this?” You couldn’t believe it, it was the most unfortunate coincidence you’ve ever experienced, your brother had to meet your lover like this. “I’m her brother and you are?” “I’m her boyfriend, it’s nice to meet you bro,” Seungcheol reached his hand out to offer a handshake but your brother only stared at him.

“I know you from somewhere,” your brother’s eyes widened with realization. He pulled you from Seungcheol’s grasp and dragged you across the room. You struggled to remove yourself from him, yelling at him to let you go.

“What the fuck, y/n?! You’re fucking dating a mafia?!” your eyes widened with fear, this cannot be happening right now. “Is he the father of your fucking child?!” he grabbed a fistful of his hair and pressed his earpiece, “I need backup right now, I caught sight of a mafia at Congressman Han’s mansion. I need backup. Now!!”

You ran off as he was yelling orders and went to find Seungcheol. You found him conversing with Congressman Han, “Seungcheol! You need to leave! Now!” you yelled and tugged at his arm, he excused himself and turned to you, “What’s going on, y/n?” “My brother, he knew you were gonna have a transaction here. He recognized you and called for backup-”

“Wait, your brother is a fucking police officer?! What the actual fuck y/n?!” he cut you off but you dragged him behind with you. “There’s no time to explain, we need to go, you’re not safe here!” you heard the police sirens and both of you made a run for it. His goons took out their guns and chaos erupted inside the mansion. A couple of officers tailed you but Seungcheol’s goons came and fought them off. However you were both caught in a crossfire and barely managed to reach the abandoned warehouse near the manor.

You helped Seungcheol drag himself to the warehouse, he got hit in so many places just to cover for you. You fell down next to the sacks and groaned in pain, blood seeped through your once silver gown but you ignored your pain and focused on Seungcheol’s wounds.

“Baby, don’t close your eyes, please. Help is on its way, I managed to contact Jeonghan before we got to this warehouse, you just have to stay with me,” you cried and applied pressure to some of his wounds.

Seungcheol coughed up blood and reached up to hold your face, “w-when you were talking a-about babies yesterday, w-were you s-saying that you were pregnant?” you cried and held his hand that was cupping your face. “Yes, I was baby. You’re going to be a Dad, so stay with us. Okay?”

“I’m g-going to be a Dad? I don’t k-know if I’m going to b-be a good one though,” he chuckled. “You are going to be the best Dad in the world, baby.” you cried and let out a small smile.

You didn’t want any of these to happen. You never wanted to be a sister of a policeman and Seungcheol never wished to be an heir to a Mafia boss. All you ever wanted was to be a normal couple that was going to be a family soon.

Seungcheol coughed and grunted in pain, he looked at you straight in the eyes, “I love you y/n, so fucking much. More than my fucking life.” “I love you too, more than anything in this world.” You cried, and pressed your lips against his.

Seungcheol nodded and smiled, then his hand went limp. Silence, aside from the sirens you hear at the distance, it was all just silence. You screamed at the top of your lungs and embraced your lover, you held him like you were holding onto life, he can’t be gone. He can’t leave you behind.

You started to feel pain so you looked down and saw a lot of blood seeping out of you. It turned out that you were hit by more than one bullet and you felt yourself cough up your own blood. Seungcheol was not going to leave you, you were going with him.

You rubbed your belly and sobbed, “I’m sorry, my baby, you didn’t even get the chance to see this world, I didn’t even get the chance to see you.” you groaned in pain as you lied down next to the corpse of your once lover.

You stared at the ceiling of the warehouse, smiling widely and scooting closer to Seungcheol. You felt your eyelids go heavy and you couldn’t hear nor feel anything, anymore. You mentally scoffed, you never thought you were going to die at a horrible place like this; but you were glad of your imminent death, because at least you died in the arms of your one true love.

☞Note: I may or may not have imagined the request too deep and created this chaotic monstrosity. Sorry, I was just feeling too angsty (╥﹏╥)

#seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #kpop angst #kpop imagines #seungcheol #choi seungchol #seungcheol x reader #s.coups #s.coups angst #s.coups x reader #seungcheol angst #seungcheol imagines #s.coups imagines #mafia au #mafia s.coups #bangcrizpychan

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mersuperwholocked-lowlife · 5 years ago

Text

Happy To Be Here

Word Count: 792

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester (mentioned), Older!Sister!Reader

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: ANGST, fluff, a few cuss words

A/N: You know, just a normal 1AM drabble

A/N 2: My 50th fic!!!!! 🥳

Masterlist

It was now 2AM, and you were still awake. You sat in the war room, reading another book. Trying to find another way to save Dean, your younger brother. You sent Sam to bed a while ago, but you still decided to check. You closed your book and read the note that Dean left.

(Y/N), Sammy let me go

Your eyes watered at the thought. You sniffled and got up to go check on Sam. You knew he needed to sleep. The two of you had been up for days, looking for anything to find Dean. Two weeks after he left, a demon broke Sam’s arm. That's the last time you know that he got a proper sleep.

You walked to his room, and opened the door a crack. Instead of seeing him asleep, or walking around his room, you saw his back, and you heard his sniffling. You knew he was crying. Unlike you and Dean, Sam was very open with his emotions.

Without thinking, you went inside his room and laid a hand on his shoulder. He immediately flinched and grabbed your arm.

“Sammy it’s me.” you said.

He immediately let go of your arm, regretting his actions.

“Sorry, (Y/N).” he sniffled.

You wrapped your arm around him and have him a tight hug.

“It’s okay kid.” you whispered into his ear, calming him down, or at least attempting you.

He held you tightly and continued crying. You could feel his body shake and hear his teeth chattering. Even though he was much bigger than you, you still treated him as a baby. You rubbed his back.

“I-It’s all my fault.” he cried.

You put your hands on his shoulders and looked at him in the eyes.

“Sammy, no! It wasn't. Look, if you're gonna blame someone, blame Metatron. That fucking bitch stabbed him.” you said.

“It doesn't matter! I should've been faster! I could've saved him! A-And now C-Crowley h-has him a-and ...” Sam’s voice drifted off as he started hyperventilating.

You knew what was happening. He put his hand on your shoulder, breathing heavily.

“Sammy, look at me. Follow my actions.” you explained to him.

“W-What's happening?!” he started breathing harder.

“Breathe with me, Sammy. Breathe in.” you motioned.

“Now breathe out.” you exhaled slowly, Sam following your actions.

“Close your eyes, Sammy.” you told him.

He looked at your nervously before doing so.

“Good, now think of something else. Don't think about what's happening.” you said.

He started breathing faster.

“No. Breathe slowly, Sammy. Follow my lead.” you said, as you breathed slowly, with him following.

Sam was going into a panic attack. Dean got them all the time when he learned about hunting, and you got them too. You had Dad, and Dean had you. This was the first time that Sam had one, that you knew about.

“All I can think about is Dean!” he cried.

“I can work with that. Listen, Sammy. Remember when Dad left us at that Motel on 14th Street? Remember that old lady who was way too handsy with Dean? Remember how red his face turned?” you started bringing up past memories.

“I-I feel dizzy.”, he said. You held him tightly, as you kept bringing up more memories.

“Come on baby boy, focus on the positive. The good things. Like remember when Dean first got his permit? Remember how he drove over Bobby’s mailbox?” you reminded him.

You saw his breathing start to normalize on its own, and you saw his pulse go down.

“What was happening?” he asked you.

“You were going into a panic attack. Dean and I used to get them.” you explained.

He opened his eyes and faced you.

“T-Thank you, (Y/N).” he said.

“Anytime baby. Now listen, Dean was not your fault. Metatron killed him. A-And then he left. But we're gonna find him. We always do. We always will.” you smiled softly.

“How are you always so hopeful?”, he asked you.

“That's easy, we’ve had a terrible life. You know that. But I find it hard to believe that God’s just gonna make our life terrible forever. We deserve a win, and we’ll get one. It’ll just take time. But it’ll be all three of us. Together against the world. Like always.” you said.

“I’m happy to have you (Y/N/N).” Sam said.

You got up and got ready to leave his room.

“Happy to be here Sammy. Now go to sleep.” you said.

“Can you stay with me?” he asked, looking down.

A soft smile hir your mouth.

“Of course I can, Sammy.” you said, as he scooted over.

You laid next to him, hugging him tightly. It was just like old times. Well, you were happy to be here.

(Posted at 12:47 AM on August 29, 2019)

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wild-aloof-rebel · 5 years ago

Text

waited so long to say this to you

Five times they say "I do" (and one they don't).

- part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 -

“And now the forecast is saying there’s a thirty percent chance of rain! I know that’s not a guarantee, but it was only twenty percent when I looked yesterday, so it’s getting— What— Why are you stopping? What are we doing?”

Patrick pulls the car onto the grassy shoulder and puts it in park, ignoring the protests of his clearly over-stressed fiancé. He reaches behind the seat to dig through the insulated bag he’d managed to sneak into the car while David was ranting about all the ways Alexis has been adding to his to-do list since she got back last week, emerging with two pints of ice cream and two spoons. He hands the cookies and cream to David whose face does a thing where his eyes go big and wide with surprise while his mouth goes small and soft. It’s a study in contradictions, just like David himself, and it’s one of Patrick’s favorite looks; he cherishes every time he can manage to make it appear.

“What’s this?” David asks.

“You’re stressed about the wedding.” David scowls, as if Patrick is pointing out some dark secret. As if the pitch and cadence and length of his ranting over the last hour hadn’t given him away. “So we’re taking a break from the to-do list. Just for a few minutes,” he adds as panic begins to well up in David’s eyes. “We can have some ice cream, relax, and then we’ll go back home and tackle whatever else needs to be done tonight. So dig in before it gets too melty.”

For a moment, it looks like David might protest, but then he sags back against his seat, pulling the lid from the container. “I don’t like it when it’s melty.”

“I know.”

They eat in comfortable silence for a while, Patrick enjoying his maple walnut, feeding David a spoonful every time he takes a break from inhaling his own. Patrick loves how much David loves ice cream, loves the way his eyes close on the first bite, the way he lets it sit on his tongue for a moment before he swallows, relishing it like he’d forgotten just how good it is. Loves the way the rest of the pint disappears in exactly the opposite way, consumed with manic, childlike glee and gone before Patrick can finish a quarter of his own. Loves the way David will complain later, curled up in their bed with a bellyache, and Patrick will rub soothing circles into his skin and kiss him till it’s better.

“Why here?” David asks when he drops the spoon into his empty pint, looking out the window at Town Hall directly across the street.

It’s where they’re getting married next week. Precisely one week from today, they’ll be inside, somewhere in the middle of their ceremony, perhaps reciting their vows or sliding rings onto each other’s fingers. Patrick thinks he’ll probably be crying, whatever they’re doing. The happy tears will probably start the moment he sees David and won’t stop until sometime around their 50th anniversary. Maybe not even then.

He leans across the seat to kiss his fiancé, sticky and sweet, his cold tongue warmed by the heat of David’s, relishing the fizzy laughter he can taste there.

“Tell me about the rain,” he says when they part.

“It’s only a thirty percent chance.” The words are much less frantic this time, like David could be talking about the weather for tomorrow or some other day that isn’t their wedding day. “It’s probably nothing,” he says confidently, turning in his seat to lean back against the door, and Patrick watches the way his eyes slide over to look at Town Hall again, a soft, wistful smile settling across his lips.

“Probably,” Patrick agrees. “But what’s the backup plan if we need it?”

This is what they do. It’s what they’ve done with the store and what they’ve done in their relationship, and now it’s what they’re doing with their wedding. David handles the dreams. Patrick handles reality. It works for them. It works really fucking well.

“Jocelyn is bringing the umbrellas the Jazzagals used for that Singin’ in the Rain medley. They’re fugly and yellow, but people only need them to get to the cafe, where we can move the reception inside if needed, so it’s going to be fine.” David says the last part like he’s practiced it, and in truth, he has. They’ve gone through their plans, their backup plans, the schedule for the day, the catering menu, their song selections, all of it enough that they both have the whole of the day memorized. Patrick feels like there’s nothing they haven’t prepared for, which is just the way he likes it. Sometimes David just needs to be reminded of that.

“And what if the power goes out?”

“The ceremony will be fine because it’s early enough and there are plenty of windows,” David recites. “There’s an extra case of Jennifer’s candles in the stock room at the store if we need them for the reception. Stevie is letting us borrow that ancient”—he swallows thickly, the next word sticking in his throat for a moment before he manages to free it—“boombox from the motel, which we can use as speakers for your phone. The batteries for it and a portable charger for your phone are already in the emergency bag.”

“You develop a sudden rash?”

“Cold compress and tea tree oil. If that doesn’t work, Alexis’s makeup. If that doesn’t work, Mom’s stage makeup. Absolute last resort: Photoshop.”

“We spill something on our tuxes?”

“My backup sweater and pants are already in my bag. You’ll wear the cashmere sweater I got you for your birthday and those grey slacks that make your ass look so good.”

Patrick gives him a knowing smirk. “You always think my ass looks good.”

“What? It’s a good ass!” He laughs, bright and loud, absolutely beautiful in his happiness, before his mouth twists into something sweeter and shier. “I’m gonna marry that ass.”

The smirk on Patrick’s face grows into a grin nearly too big to be contained. “And here I‌ thought you loved me for my sparkling personality.”

“Oh, I love that, too, but your ass is the real draw here.”

He chuckles and drops a happy kiss to David’s knuckles, brushing his thumb across the four rings he’d put there just a few months ago, the four rings that mean at this time next week David will be his husband. “Is this helping?”

David nods. “Yeah, just… can we keep going?”

They have a long, frighteningly extensive list of backup plans for every worst case scenario they could think of, from the mundane to the unlikely and absurd. Patrick is pretty certain they won’t need to use their backup plan for what happens if a member of the wedding party becomes possessed by a demonic entity, but if it makes David feel better to have a plan just in case, Patrick is more than happy to give him one (isolate the possessed person in the bathroom if possible, remove everyone else from the area if not, send another member of the wedding party to the church to get a priest).

He drops his melting container of ice cream into the cup holder and takes David’s hands to run through the rest of the list. “The caterer doesn’t show?”

“We order delivery from Panucci’s.”

“The cake collapses?”

“There are mini cupcakes in the freezer at the store.”

“The heel on one of your mother’s shoes breaks?”

“Dad’s bringing an extra pair in the car.”

“The officiant doesn’t show?”

“Roland—god forbid—conducts the ceremony from the copy of the script saved on Stevie’s phone.”

“An osprey gets loose in Town Hall?”

“We— What the fuck is an osprey?”

Patrick bites back a laugh, swallowing hard to try to keep it from spilling out of his mouth. He doesn’t do a very good job of it. “A big bird. Like a hawk.”

David glares at him, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward in spite of him. “You were in charge of the backup plans, and I don’t think you made one for that. Now if an ostrich—”

“Osprey.”

“—interrupts our vows, it’s going to be all your fault, Patrick Brewer.”

Patrick grins and grins and grins some more, so incredibly in love with this man and the dramatic pout now aimed his way. “Well we wouldn’t want that,” he says, leaning teasingly across the center console, and David drags him the rest of the way in, pulling Patrick over to crash against his mouth, hard and brash as thunder. The heat of it rolls through him, echoing against tendon and bone, leaving them vibrating against one another, David stretching his fingers along the line of Patrick’s jaw, Patrick twisting his hands into David’s hair, dragging him closer, wanting more of him, wanting every good and gorgeous thing he can give him.

Unfortunately, they’re in the front seat of his car in the middle of the afternoon, parked practically in the center of town. It’s not exactly an ideal place for David to give him anything at all, so Patrick lets all of his buzzing desire settle back down into a gentle hum and reluctantly pulls away.

David watches him go, starry-eyed and slow, like he’s still stuck somewhere in the moment with Patrick’s lips on his, finally coming back to himself with a long blink. “How do you do it?” he asks, a little wrinkle forming on his brow.

“Do what?”

“This.” The rings on his hand flash wildly as he gestures at the ice cream and Town Hall and everything else within view. “How do you always manage to know exactly what I need?”

Patrick shakes his head. “You think I‌ don’t know how to love you?” He reaches across to twine the fingers of their left hands together, one of David’s rings pressing against the place where his own will soon sit, squeezing against the feeling as he tries to find what he wants to say. “Best, I’ve spent the better part of three years thinking about and trying to do little else. I mean, I’m not perfect. And I’m— I’m still gonna get it wrong sometimes.” He looks up into the deep, steady warmth of those familiar brown eyes. “But this—loving you—it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done. And I’m so glad I’m gonna get to spend the rest of my life doing it.”

Strong hands are dragging him in again before he even finishes his sentence, cradling his face so that David can kiss him long and deep and slow.

If it’s also a little wet, Patrick pretends not to notice.

“I love you,” David whispers against his lips, and then his cheeks, and then his nose. “Do you know that?” He kisses Patrick’s eyelids and his chin and his forehead. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“I do,” Patrick says, feeling the warmth of David’s smile in the kisses fluttering all over his skin. “I do.” And he reels his fiancé back in so that he can savor the truth of it on his lips.

Far too soon though, David is leaning away again, just a trace of his panic returning as he asks, “Do you really think there might be an osprey?”

Patrick shakes his head but says, “I’ll make a backup plan just in case.”

Seemingly satisfied, David tilts in to kiss him once more, laughing and joyous and light, and Patrick thinks that next week can’t possibly come soon enough.

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #david x patrick #david rose #patrick brewer #after 4 full rewrites and throwing out like a solid 5k words #this is finally done #took it an entirely different direction than i'd originally intended but it is what it is #rebel writes #wsltstty #it'll be up on ao3 in just a min if you prefer to read there #as always apologies if the cut doesn't appear on mobile #long post

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peter-parkner · 5 years ago

Note

CONGRATS ON 300!!! can a request a platonic parkner + 84? I feel like that’s the perfect prompt for two people who are the definition of chaotic energy. I can see Peter saying but I’ll leave it up to you!! ⭐️💗

Mischief Managed - Part 1

“We really can’t thank you and Peter enough for doing this tonight.” Pepper’s heels clacked across the wooden floor as she moved through the kitchen, dumping her handbag onto the counter.

“It’s no trouble, really. Besides, there’s at least ten sweet old ladies living in Peter’s neighborhood who are sure to give us extra candy tonight.” Harley was perched atop a stool at the marble breakfast bar. He was on his laptop finishing a last-minute school assignment.

Pepper walked over and kissed him on the head. “Well, we appreciate it anyway.” She stopped and looked around, brows furrowed, “Harley, have you seen my –”

“Lipstick? You left it in the bathroom.” Tony walked into the kitchen waving a small black tube between his fingers. He was dressed in a sleek, black three-piece suit.

Pepper snatched it from her husband’s hand, relief filling her features as she dropped it into her handbag. She gave Tony an appraising look before walking over to him and fiddling with his tie. Between the finger light touches and small smiles, Harley felt like he was invading on something deeply intimate.

He cleared his throat, “Um, I’m gonna go get Peter.”

Pepper nodded but didn’t respond. Harley made his way toward the elevators and down to the lower floors where the labs were. It was Halloween and, of course, Peter Parker was the only person still working through the holiday. The elevator doors dinged open and Harley stepped inside. He pressed the button for the 50th floor, watching as the number lit up a soft yellow.

“Hey Peter, are you almost ready? I just have to change and then…”

His words trailed off as he rounded the corner and entered their shared lab space. Standing in the middle of the lab was Peter, covered in prototype web fluid. Peter’s face and hair were unscathed, but his clothes definitely were not salvageable. The left side of Harley’s mouth quirked upward in a smile at the sight in front of him.

“Is that, uh, what you’re dressing up as tonight?” Harley barely suppressed his laughter behind a wide grin.

“Oh, this isn’t a costume. This is my natural state of being.”

Foam was steadily dripping off of Peter’s clothes and onto the scuffed up tile floors. It landed with a resounding ‘plop.’ Peter grabbed some paper towels in an attempt to mop up the mess, but it was in vain. Harley took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He gave the man another once over. Halloween was not going to be ruined by a chemistry experiment gone wrong.

“I can fix this.”

Harley glanced at his Stark watch; they had about fifteen minutes to get ready. He put on his game face and dragged Peter toward the decontamination shower, throwing him inside.

Fifteen minutes to the second hand, Harley and Peter stumbled out of the elevator and into the common room. Pepper and Tony were talking in low voices while they sat waiting on the couch. Well, Pepper sat. Tony was awkwardly leaning over the back of the sectional so the two could still be eye-level. He didn’t want to wrinkle his three-piece suit prematurely.

“We’re ready whenever Little Miss is.” Harley hopped over the back of an armchair while Peter filled himself a glass of water in the kitchen.

“Gotta say Underoos, that’s a bold costume choice,” Tony quipped from where he leaned against the sofa as he took in Peter’s appearance.

“Not my finest work, but I think it’ll do.” Harley also eyed up Peter’s Halloween costume while the man in question continued sipping from his glass of water.

Tony squinted harder at Peter. “Hey, Harls isn’t that the shirt I bought you when you moved to New York?”

“Yup.”

Peter was dressed up as a New York City tourist: the most cliché thing Harley could think of in the moment. He had on white socks the hit his mid-calf, red low-top Converse and Harley’s white ‘I

As if on cue, Morgan called out from behind the kitchen wall, “Are you guys ready!”

“Yeah, Sweetie!” Pepper replied as four pairs of eyes turned toward the arched doorway.

“Drum roll!” Peter started furiously banging on the marble counter top while Harley aided him using the arms of his chair as makeshift drums.

After a beat of silence, Morgan jumped out from behind the partition. She struck a pose and was met by a chorus of praises as everyone stood up.

“A bat? That’s awesome!” Peter leaned down and high-fived Morgan.

She was wearing a black tunic dress over leggings with matching Mary Janes. Black arm bracers attached to a cape turned into magnificent bat wings when Morgan raised her arms. As she smiled, fake fangs glistened in the soft, overhead lighting. A black choker and ruby red hair clips finished off the costume.

Morgan ran over to Pepper, who easily scooped her up. “We both thought she’d want to be a superhero, but nope,” a small laugh escaped her lips, “Their science class finished a section on bats for Halloween and now they’re Morgan’s favorite animal.”

Tony beamed down at his daughter while he fixed her hair clips. Peter was already taking five-hundred pictures of the family with his camera. Pepper and Tony’s million-dollar outfits sharply juxtaposed Morgan’s Halloween costume.

“Oh my God, I get Harley’s costume now.” He paused his picture taking to stare at the other man from where he now leaned against the sofa, in the space Tony previously occupied.

Harley was clad in all black: black jeans, black t-shirt, black Doc Martens and a leather jacket. The only thing that gave away what his costume was supposed to be was the fake blood dripping down his mouth and vampire fangs that peeked out when he smiled. They also matched Morgan’s pair.

“Why do you get to wear a cool costume?” Peter pouted while Morgan giggled.

“Because I’m a cool person, duh.” Harley brushed past Peter with Morgan’s pumpkin shaped, trick-or-treat bucket in hand.

After two more trips upstairs from Pepper, another round of photos and multiple phone calls from Happy, who waited impatiently in the parking garage downstairs, the quintet made their way toward the elevators.

“You have both of our personal numbers, right?”

“Yes, Pepper.”

“And you have Happy’s?”

“Yes, Pepper.” Harley’s voice was exasperated but his smile was fond.

“Peter, you have your web-shooters on, right?”

“Yes ma’am!” Peter rolled back the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt to expose his gadgets.

“Tony, are we forgetting anything else?” Pepper turned to her husband, brows furrowed.

After a moment of contemplation, Tony spoke: “Save some candy for us, okay?”

Pepper elbowed him in the ribs with her left arm while the right held tightly onto Morgan’s hand. Tony discreetly rubbed his side when the five of them exited the elevator upon reaching the parking garage level. Mr. and Mrs. Stark kissed their daughter goodbye, hugged Harley and Peter in turn and made their way toward Happy’s Audi.

“Have fun, kids!”

After the Audi drove off, Harley, Peter and Morgan got into Aunt May’s Toyota. Peter made sure everyone was buckled in and then started their drive over to Queens.

By the time they pulled into May’s building, it was seven pm. Peter swiftly parked and the trio crossed the street, eager to start trick-or-treating. They had meticulously planned a route through the safest residential area by May’s apartment. The sounds of Halloween floated through the air as the trio neared their destination. Harley’s grip on Morgan’s hand tightened when they started encountering more and more adults with their children.

Goblins, ghouls and superheroes flew by the trio while children ran rampant in the streets. Darkness had settled over Queens with only lampposts and the neon glow of front porch decorations to light their way. Harley looked down at Morgan as she happily skipped beside him in her bat costume.

“You ready to get some candy?”

Morgan shook her head eagerly and Harley let go of her hand, urging her toward the house in front of them. He and Peter followed closely behind. The front porch light was on and two large, carved pumpkins with candles inside of them sat on the steps leading up to the door. Morgan stood on her tiptoes and rang the doorbell, a wide grin on her face.

“Trick-or-treat!” Morgan exclaimed as soon as the door fully opened, revealing a young woman in her mid-thirties.

She looked down and grinned at Morgan. “And what are you supposed to be young lady?”

“A bat!” She spread her arms to put her faux-wings on display.

“Wow! That’s so cool!” The woman presented a large bowl of candy to Morgan. Her eyes lit up as her small hands eagerly dug around for Hershey’s bars, Morgan’s favorite. “You might want to take a few extras for your brothers.” She looked up and winked at Harley and Peter.

Peter beamed back at the woman when she gave a final wave before closing her front door. Morgan turned and skipped ahead of the two toward the next house, pumpkin bucket swinging back and forth. Their next destination had a front yard littered with fake tombstones. A green spotlight cast an eerie glow on the domicile as well. Harley made Morgan hang back while they patiently waited for another family to finish conversing with the elderly couple who owned the residence.

Once they left, Morgan eagerly ran to the front door and the trick-or-treat cycle started all over again.

The rest of the night flew by seamlessly as Morgan enchanted couple after couple into giving her extra candy without even trying. Her bucket was overflowing by the time the trio made it back to May’s apartment building; even Harley and Peter had to stuff some sweets into their pockets for her. Peter’s Nikon was filled with pictures of the three of them throughout the night and he couldn’t wait to show Pepper and Tony in the morning.

Though the night had started off a little rocky, Peter couldn’t help but break into a smile as he looked over at his best friend next to him and his self-appointed little sister strapped into the backseat. Morgan was counting her spoils of war inside the pumpkin bucket. Tonight was definitely a Halloween for the history books.

Part 2

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