#even bigger and more embarrassing secret sometimes when my head gets locked up I picture King telling me how wonderful I am and how one day

[gayboyrocklee]

See I bring stuff up and it’s like “ohhh someone to replace King/finally someone else” bc I do still talk abt King a lot and like I don’t think you get it it’s like this random guy I do not know much about is not going to eclipse my first serious relationship. Nothing ever will replace it, bc it’s one of a kind or smth. It was hellish. It was the happiest I ever was. It’s a duality. It was a mess of being sixteen. There’s never going to be anything like that again. That’s such a relief to know. It’s terrifying thinking about the unknowns after bc at least it was familiar. Idk. I also think King had a very unique position in my life and it was definitely an in the moment thing and it’s kinda stupid to think that someone will ever be able to Be That. Someone will be smth different one day, someone else who makes me say “I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you”. I won’t love them like I loved King, it’ll be different (and hopefully less sixteen!!!). I don’t think it’ll ever be the same bc it’d be boring if we loved everyone the same. The intense emotion is gonna kill me early but idk. I feel alive rn.

[literate-lamb]

can I kiss you on the dancefloor?

Steve Rogers/Reader

One year into a relationship, yet still dancing in secrecy. Steve thinks he’s protecting you.

When a civilian and a hero fall in love, anything could go wrong. But not in the way Steve would have thought.

Or how the media play with the lives of superheroes.

►word count: 7.6k

► warnings(!): slight angst, alcohol

A/N: My gift to @blue-like-barnes for the Hoelentines Fic Exchange! I’m sorry it took some time, giftee. I didn’t expect this to turn into a monster (yikes). Thank you for hosting @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes ! Dividers from @firefly-graphics​ and GIF from Giphy

On his day-offs, Steve Rogers was a man full of disguises. 

When they first started, it was the baseball cap and thick-rimmed glasses. He liked it, it was simple, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would notice. How could one not when his face was the one plastered in old war propaganda, in the museums commemorating his achievements, and even flashes on the telly when you walk past the local electronics store. 

Hence, it wasn’t a surprise when the tabloids posted a photo of him in his disguise, waiting at a crosswalk on a cold night. 

‘Captain America spotted on a midnight stroll’ came the next morning. It was taken after he was done walking you home, thankful they didn’t catch a glimpse of you.

“So capsicle, where were you off to last night?” Tony greeted him at breakfast, offending paper in hand. He unrolled it, opening and making a show of reading, displaying the front page for all seated to see. “Nice reading glasses, wasn’t aware you needed them.”

Striding into the room, Natasha came and snatched the tabloid. She gave it a critical eye, judging, before turning towards him. 

“Hmm, recycling disguises, Rogers? I’m disappointed.” 

Steve just groaned in reply.

The second time it happened, he had gone to the Black Widow herself for advice. He had expected sound advice coming from a former KGB spy who spent her paycheck on hair, but all he got was a stick-on mustache. Something about ‘needing to blend in rather than pointing the obvious’.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Steve, but at least it’s better than that nerd get-up,” she smirked.

You had liked it. Giggling every time he kissed you, the fibres tickling your lips. He had ‘a caterpillar’ on his upper lip as you called it. And Steve had learned to get used to the itch.

But it wasn’t long before his new look was the star in barbershops. 

‘Captain America’s new look takes the world by storm.’ They had caught him again in another paparazzi shot. Tony had teased him for days after.

He couldn’t shake it off easily, constantly reminded of it when he walked the streets. Seeing them on screens when he’s channel-surfing. Even when he’s training new recruits, his vision filled with a sea of unshaved cadets, their hairy upper lips a prominent fixture.

He knew he had to do something when Bucky and Sam came in one day sporting twin mustaches. 

He discarded the strip of fibre in the bin. Reminding to pay Natasha a visit.

The third time he decided, he seeked out the help of Scott Lang, who was a master in keeping out of sight during his burglary days. Scott had given him a black beanie and told him to grow out his facial hair. 

The beanie hid his golden locks and the beard made him look rugged. You loved it, your thighs quivered when it was him and you in the four walls of your room. Uncontrollable groans as he went down. ‘Beard burn’ you had called it. Whatever it was, he loved the sounds you let out.

Four months. That’s how long the disguise lasted. His longest disguise to date. 

Before he became a trend.

‘Captain America is the new style icon.’ The internet sleuths found out where he got it too. ‘The sale of Walmart beanies skyrocketed by 70% thanks to Captain America.’

Tony had bought everyone in the compound a black beanie for Christmas, including the receptionist.

“Our grandpa’s a trendsetter, who knew,” he announced. Steve had smacked the back of Tony’s head with the beanie before retiring the disguise.

Now, sitting in The Sleeping Cat, Steve had opted for aviators and a Nasa baseball cap. He still kept his beard after your pleads, and he liked the look, he admits. It was back to basics for him and this was one of the only places where he was safe from prying eyes. Afterall, it was in this very café where he had met you.

The Sleeping Cat was a quaint little thing, a hole in the wall in a quiet part of the city. Not many knew of its existence, the entrance obscure, a blink and you’ll miss it. Which made it all the more perfect for him. The baristas knew him and minded their own business, offering him a smile every time he visited. ‘You’re safe with us’ they seem to say. 

He could say the same about the patrons. Most that frequented were regulars like him, they seemed the same, looking for a place to get away from the overbearing world. They seemed to share an understanding, paying him no mind as if he was just another man they passed on the streets. And that’s how he preferred it. 

Just a boy from Brooklyn.

Ding!

The chime of the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Facing the door, he saw you, smiling as you came through.

This was the best part of his days. 

You had met Steve Rogers at the most unexpected of times.

Terminated from your previous job at a small gallery, dumped by an ex-boyfriend after a 2 year relationship, you were at an utmost low. To escape your roommates —in case of pitying or prying, but if you were honest with yourself, it was to escape your own humiliation— you left the apartment on weekdays under the guise of going to work. In reality, you were at The Sleeping Cat applying for jobs on your laptop.

It was during one of the afternoon hours when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning to your left, you were greeted by a pair of startling blues. They were bright but worn as if they’ve seen too many. Looking at the bigger picture, you took him in. Hair hidden under a cap, a sharp jaw and an equally sharp nose, and if you looked closely, you thought you could spot a few moles on his cheeks. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger to it.

Eyes fleeting to his lips, you realized he was actually talking.

“Huh?” 

“I was wondering if this seat’s taken?” He smiled, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite. He was clearly amused.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” you nodded, making room for his things. 

The following days, it became a routine and an arrangement. You would be at the café as early as the owner would allow, laptop in hand. While he would come in the afternoons in a different jacket each day, a sketchbook in hand. You would be propped up, sending application after application, praying for luck. While he would quietly sit, churning sketch after sketch, in a relaxed demeanour. 

Sometimes you would peek over your screen and watch him draw for a few minutes, lost in his strokes. When you look up, you’ll find his eyes locked with yours, and you’ll immediately reimmerse yourself behind the screen, embarrassed.

It was a comfortable routine. You came to expect him everyday. And on the days that he didn’t make it, you felt a bit forlorn looking at the empty seat. You both didn’t talk much, yet you were getting comfortable in his presence.

Until one day, he broke the silence.

“So, what is it that you do?”

You stared, dumbfounded. Looking around there wasn’t anyone nearby. 

“Were you talking to me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you’re always on your computer…” he trailed off.

“I’m an assistant curator at an art gallery— or, er, used to be,” you explained. “Long story short, I lost my job and now I’m looking for a new one, that’s why I’m here.”

He seemed to ruminate before replying, “So you know a thing or two about art?”

You both started a new routine; one with a lot of communicating. He would ask you about your mundane weekends and interests and in turn, you would ask about his. Except, he was anything but mundane. 

On the days he was absent, you learned Steve was away on a lot of ‘business trips’. When he returned, he had never failed to present you with a souvenir. From matryoshkas to sarongs, it was always a surprise accompanied by a tale.

“The pattern on the sarong is called a batik, and it’s amazing how they’re drawn using wax like a liquid crayon. It’s an interesting art form.”

Outside of your little routine, he was an enigma. You barely knew about the Steve outside of The Sleeping Cat. Sometimes he threw the names ‘Bucky’ and ‘Sam’ a lot —out of exhaustion— without giving away anything, remaining tight-lipped. While his mysteriousness should’ve been a cause of concern, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, wanting to peel more of his layers, like the shell of a matryoshka. 

The routine went on for a few more weeks, with calls of interviews and business trips in between. Before you received a phone call.

“I got a job! At the Whitney!” you squealed, shaking his shoulders over the table, oblivious to the other patrons. Steve endured it, smiling. 

“Congratulations,” he said when you’ve calmed down. “I guess this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?”

You froze, high coming down, realization settling in. After a few weeks of secret meetings, of getting to know him, of having lunch together, of sharing laughs, you’ve come to see Steve as a good friend. And maybe, there was the birth of something more.

“Let’s exchange numbers,” you said, opening your phone. “This way, maybe we can hang out again. Have lunch sometimes?”

“I’d like that.” He smiled. 

And the rest was history.

Making your way towards The Sleeping Cat, you amused yourself with past memories. Memories from almost over a year ago. 

Steve had come to give a speech at the opening ceremony of an exhibition at the Whitney. Your first exhibition as a curator. An exhibition on art from the war times. When they had announced his title, a loud ‘oh’ was the only thing you could muster. 

The ‘ding’ of the bell resounded, announcing your arrival. Heading in, you saw a head perked up, beaming, baseball cap securing his golden locks and aviators hiding his mesmerizing blues.

This was the best part of your days.

But maybe, you were getting a little tired.

If someone were to ask you months ago if you were happy and content with your relationship, you would’ve replied with a swift yes in a heartbeat. No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt. Now, sitting in the same cafe, the same one you frequent on dates, the same one you both met in, you weren’t sure of the answer anymore.

As Steve gets up to order for you both, your eyes wander to his sketchpad. It was filled with sketches of random objects; the flower on the table, the pastries on display, sometimes the patrons of the cafe, and occasionally, you. 

“You’re my favourite subject, so far.”

It was not for the lack of love or the lack of affection. Steve was the most loving; loyal in so many ways, gentle when asked, and protective to a fault. Maybe the protectiveness was the cause of it all.

Staring at Steve’s back, your mind shifted to a memory from the past week, when your roommate pulled you aside from a get-together at the ice rink.

“Hey,” she called your name, taking a hold of your elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure, what’s up?” you followed her, leading you to the sides.

Her eyes conveyed her worry. It amplified with the chewing of her bottom lip, a nervous tick.

“Are you and Steve… okay?” she asked, her brows perked. “I’m not sure if you notice, but today, it’s full of couples.” 

You looked towards your group of friends. There was your roommate’s girlfriend tying her skates, your other roommate and her boyfriend talking to another couple —their friends— and they were all holding their significant other’s hand. Oh.

“I don’t want to throw you out of the loop, but there would probably be a lot of double skating involved today,” she said, widening her eyes, looking comical. “Do you want me to talk to Steve? Maybe I could convince him to come, y’know?” 

Out of your two roommates, she was the only one who knew of your paramour. Having walked in on you and Steve making out on the couch. She was sworn into secrecy, with the promise of autographs from all the Avengers. 

“Look, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I can handle skating alone, and you know why he can’t really come here with us,” you shrugged.

“Okay, but aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around? Don’t you want to shout to the whole world ‘I’m fucking Captain America!’” she flailed.

You shushed her, muffling her mouth with your gloved hand.

Part of the secret was how Steven Rogers was an engineered superhero. A superhero with many enemies, leading him to fear for his loved ones, and that included you.

You went into the relationship whole-heartedly knowing the challenges; discreet rendezvous, kisses in the dark, minimal contact in public. You were his secret and he was yours. It was for your own good, wasn’t it?

“What’s got your little head wrapped up?” Steve’s voice startled you, bringing you back to the café. On the table, two cups of coffee and a slice of cake was served.

“Hmm? Oh, just thinking about this party the museum’s throwing this weekend,” you took your cup, blowing, contemplating your next words.“Say, how about you and I, I don’t know, go as dates?”

Steve crunched his brows. “You know that’s a hard thing for me to do, especially with your colleagues around.”

“I know! But maybe… maybe, you can go in one of your disguises this time? Remember that one time we went to Central Park?”

Steve exhaled, he remembered that afternoon. It was the one-off that you both ventured on a date in the outdoors. 

Decked in his beanie, casually strolling through Central Park with you beside him. Although he was still wary, keeping his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to hold your hand. 

No one had recognized him; not the ice-cream man, not the kids running around, not the mothers pushing strollers. No one. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You leaned forward, pecking him on the lips multiple times. “Thank you!”

“You sure this looks convincing?”

“Trust me, punk. Grade A assassin here, thank you very much,” Bucky boasted while fixing the wig on his scalp, untangling the unruly strands.

Steve had sought Bucky for help, with the belief that assassins were good at hiding in plain sight (and maybe, he just didn’t want to go to Natasha twice). Bucky was also his most trusted confidant and he knew about you, Steve trusted him not to tell. But now looking at himself in the opposite mirror, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. 

Long dangly tresses hung on the sides of his face parting in the middle, a trimmed beard leaving a bit of goatee, and to finish it off, Bucky dressed him in a checkered shirt consisting of random coloured squares. He looked like he just stepped out of the 60’s.

“Oh, wear these,” Bucky handed him a pair of large wire-framed glasses. “Done.”

Steve took a look in the mirror. A seedy pimp was the first thought that crossed his mind.

“Thanks Buck, I owe you one.”

“Sure Stevie, just bring me around next time on one of your dates, I’d like to meet her,” Bucky winked. “Or make it double.” He wagged his brows. “Like old times.”

Steve snorted.

“Okay, I got—“ Steve’s words halted when an alarm blared overhead. It demanded their attention.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, your presence is required in Prep Room six,” called the disembodied voice. “There’s been a breach of extraterrestrial energy in the airspace of Sweden.”

Steve exited and rushed through the hallways, Bucky following close behind. He made it through the living quarters, trudging to the training wing before entering one of the many prep rooms. 

“Nice costume, Cap. Halloween already?” Sam quipped. Almost everyone was present, they were equally amused.

Before anyone else could follow, Tony strided in immediately, grumbling. “Okay team, there’s been an E.T synthezoid putting holes in the ozone layer. I’ll fill you all in the quinjet. Suit up and meet me at the hangover in 10.”

Everybody gathered their equipment and hurried to leave, passing by him. Before Tony could, he took notice of Steve and did a double take. And then a third. 

“What’s with the pimp daddy get-up, Capsicle?” 

Steve huffed, ignoring the jab. “I have something that I need to attend. How important am I in this, Tony?”

“We need all hands on deck. We don’t really know what we’re up against, Fury’s still running recon,” Tony explained, squaring his shoulders. “Whatever it is you have, Cap. It can wait. Lives are at stake here.” With that, he left, not standing by for a response.

“Darn it,” Steve cursed, removing the glasses and the wig.

He left the prep room with his shield in hand. With one hand, he shot a text to you. He’ll make it up next time.

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Emergency mission

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Can’t make it, sorry

You switched the screen off, sighing. Around you, the party was in full swing. Invitees mingling with refreshments in hand, discussing the pieces on display tonight, and bidding on the pieces they find exquisite. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne were being served, brought around by servers on silver platters. You’ve been munching on them non-stop, grabbing one every time a server comes your way, needing something to occupy you.

Surrounding you, you’d see the occasional couple walking around, enjoying their time. The palms of their hands locked in each other’s as they navigate together, rarely straying afar. 

You clenched your hand, reminded of how empty it felt. 

It was inevitable, you were warned of this, you were told to expect this. Dating a superhero meant that he was never solely yours. You were sharing your boyfriend with someone, except that someone was the world. 

“Hiiii!” a shrill voice broke your thought, calling you by name. A blonde woman, followed by a brunette emerged from the gathering of art-goers, headed towards you. “It’s been a long while!”

“Hey! Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you waved, recognizing the two. 

When they reached you, you were aware of the slight tension in the air, leaving the three of you standing awkwardly. After all, these two were your ex-colleagues and you didn’t exactly leave the previous gallery on good terms. Tonight was a night with masks, it seemed.

“So, how are you two doing?” you decided to get it over with.

“We’re fine, everyone’s fine! But how are you? We heard you worked here now, pretty impressive,” the brunette —Claire— winked at you. You laughed.

“Yeah, it’s so nice seeing you again, and at the Whitney? The pay must be good, you know what I’m saying?” Hilda chimed, knocking her elbows with yours. You didn’t appreciate it but you endured.

 “Say, what are you doing over here far away? Why not you join us over there,” Hilda pointed, towards a mounted canvas at the end of the hall. It was occupied by two men in a discussion among themselves. “Chat a bit to catch up, a bit of art philosophical debate in between. What do you say?”

You contemplated her offer, not wanting to seem pretentious, but thought about the false flattery and ego-stroking that would sure ensue in their company. The thought of it drained you.

“It’s okay,” you waved them off nervously. “I have to call my boyfriend sooner, gotta check up on him and let him know I’m... alright.” You held up your phone, playing on convincing.

“Oh? He isn’t here tonight?” Claire seemed to feign worry. 

“No, he got caught up with something. He’s a busy man,” you cooked up an excuse. No one could know. 

“Okay… In that case, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe we’ll bump into each other sooner.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”

They waved before backing away into the mass of patrons. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in. 

While the interaction was unexpected, this was what you had to deal with when it came to the question of your relationship. The excuses, they became second nature to you. The lies. The deceit. Anything to protect Steve’s identity, and inadvertently, you.

Throughout the night, you mingled with any clients interested in a work of art, all the while stepping out of Hilda and Claire’s line of sight. You didn’t wish a repeat of the earlier evening.

When the crowd started dwindling, signalling the end of the night, you were relieved of your duties. You headed straight for the restrooms after, one getaway before leaving. You huddled yourself in a cubicle, locking it shut.

Seconds in, you heard the creak of the restroom door followed by the clicks of heels.

“Can you believe it? Someone like that got the chance of working here.” 

You recognized the nasally tone. It was Claire. 

“Yeah? Not like she deserves it. I mean look at her? Demure, slow. It’s like talking to a mouse. I bet she’s a prude too.” That was Hilda.

The gushing of the faucet muffled their voices, but their sharp words were clear as day, your ear catching every snark and hiss.

“And when she was talking about her boyfriend? He probably doesn’t even exist, it was just to get off our backs,” Hilda paused. “Last time I heard, her boyfriend dumped her. So, I guess she’s creating imaginary ones now.” 

They both cackled.

By now, you knew they were talking about you. Their words didn’t hurt as much, you knew the colour of their hearts beneath the masks. But was that how people viewed your hidden relationship? A facade? A farce?

Once the door clicked shut, and the tapping of their heels faded, you left the restroom, heart feeling heavier.

(y/n) [6:45 PM]: stay safe stevie ! remember to hydrate

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: punch those meanies

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: (`⌒*)⍟-(`⌒´Q)

Steve chuckled when he turned on his phone, amused at your texts. You always sent him good luck messages every time he went off for missions. Although he didn’t seem to get the emoticons that you sent, even after being taught by Peter Parker. He just didn’t get them.

Steve dialed your number, sitting on the edge of the bed as he dried his washed hair. Beeps ringed before you picked up, your smooth lilt permeating the speakers. 

“Hello? Stevie?”

Steve smiled, missing the caress of your voice after a day filled with explosions and cries.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “How’s my girl been?”

“Great, now that you called,” you teased. “But are ‘you’ fine?” you emphasized.

On the other end of the line, you mirrored his position, sitting on one corner of the bed. Picking the newspaper in your lap, you observed the front page: ‘Avengers saves the Arctic!’ 

“Same old, same old,” his voice carries. “Listen, about yesterday—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, other hand gripping the newspaper. “You have to protect the Earth and that also means me. You don’t have to apologize, I knew what I signed up for.” 

Did you? Or was it now a hollow statement to convince yourself?

“I still want to make up for it, my girl deserves that much,” he responded.

You slowly unclenched the paper. It left Steve’s form crinkled.

“If you want to sooo bad,” you exaggerated. “There’s a Valentines charity ball for our arts program in three weeks time. You think you could make it this time?”

“You know no promises, but I plan to, even if I have to do everyone’s laundry for a week.” You heard rustling on the other line. “What’s the exact date? I’ll put it on my calendar.” 

“The 16th.” Scratchy scribbling filled your ear, the sound loud in the silence. 

“Done. Can’t wait to see you all dolled up, sweetheart.”

“Me too, baby,” you said. “At least put on a nice moustache this time.”

He laughed. Your heart felt lighter. To him, it was probably nothing, but to you, it was a form of reassurance. A reassurance that what you had was real.

“Steve, you got a moment?”

The aforementioned man turned around, taking a glance over his shoulder. Sharon Carter slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. As always, she carried an air of superiority, matching that of Steve’s wavelength. Yet today, it seemed dim.

“I think we need to talk, you have time for coffee?”

Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “Sure, Sharon. Lead the way.”

She took them outside of S.H.I.E.L.D and into the chilly air of DC, navigating through streets and crowds while huddling in their coats. They chatted, breaths puffing as they caught up, the familiar scenes passing by.

He hadn’t been in DC in awhile, it felt good to be back. 

“We’re here.”

Sharon headed in first, holding the door for him. He thanked her. They ordered and got seated. A smile was shared, strained as it seemed. 

“Better just rip the band-aid off,” Sharon sighed. “I miss us.” 

“Sharon—“

“Please, hear me out first,” she insisted, showing her palm. “We probably shouldn’t have done what we’ve done after Aunt Peggy’s funeral. I just lost someone I looked up to the most, and you lost the woman that you loved. We were both grieving. It wasn’t fair to the both of us.”

“While I do miss us, I know that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued, shooting a sombre smile. “I understand that now. I guess, what I wanted was closure.”

Her hand quivered on the table between them. Steve clasped his over hers, offering to soothe.

“I don’t regret what happened in Germany. While yes, it should have not happened, it was what we thought we needed at that time. We both lost someone we held dear,” Steve explained, hoping his words reached her. “None of it was a mistake, Sharon. You’re still someone I trust and hold dear, remember that.”

Steve clutched her hand tighter, running his thumb over her knuckles in circular motions, attempting to calm and show understanding.

In his efforts, unknown to the two, the shutter of a camera went off across the street.

Something felt off. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. At first, you thought it was your own anxious mind running. 

You woke up late on a work day, burned your eggs and toast, accidentally wore unmatching socks, and your roommate was acting weird. All jittery when you entered the hall, stammering her words, and performing this bizarre dance when you walked past the living room. You gave her no mind when you passed the threshold and slammed the door, phone gripped in hand.

Loverboy [6:00 AM]: Good morning, dear 

Loverboy [6:01 AM]: [image]

A photo of Steve, sweaty after a run showed on the screen. He was smiling, shirt stained and clinging to his chest. You had taught him how to take selfies.

You [7:20 AM]: morning, handsome

You [7:20 AM]: 😍😍😍 

The morning texts were the best part of your morning commute. It made the arduous and packed journey worthwhile. Even when you almost tripped at the doors, it couldn’t take away your joy.

You made it just in time and clocked in, meeting clients and discussions with artists throughout the day. It was uneventful, although the bad luck seemed to have followed when you spilled your coffee on the concrete.

It was when you left the museum that your day took a turn for the worst.

On the ride home, the man opposite you was reading a newspaper. Nothing unusual, but at a glance, you thought you saw a familiar face printed on the corner. Before you could take a closer look, the man folded it in half and got off.

A few minutes later, you arrived at your stop, exiting the station with the fast-paced crowd. That’s when you were bombarded.

Lining the streets, your vision was filled with the scattering of a crowd of papers. Every face you saw was plastered in them.

‘The Good Captain In Love?’

‘A Superhero & A Civilian Romance?’ 

‘Captain America’s Girl? Mysterious Woman Sighted’

The sight of them left you in a panic, your anxiety spiking through the roof. Your world started spinning, everything —buildings, trees, faces— blending altogether. Everywhere your eyes deflected, a headline invaded your sight, imprinting itself on your retinas. Had they found out?

Composing yourself, you headed towards the nearest news stall, mind boggled with too many questions and not enough answers. How? Why? When?

Only, it wasn’t your face they were publishing.

‘“Oh Captain, My Captain” America in love? Spotted last week in DC was Captain Steven Rogers with a mysterious lady. They seemed to be cozy with each other, an eyewitness told Us Weekly. Story on Page 11.’

The photograph showcased Steve with a blonde woman, sitting in a café with their hands clasped on the table. Your heart shattered at the sight, remembering how empty yours have felt lately. 

Was he purposely out with this woman in public? What did that mean for you? Why were you shadowed?

“Are you and Steve… okay?”

“She’s creating imaginary ones now.”

“Aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around?”

“You know that’s a hard thing for me to do.”

“Hey lady, you gonna pay for that?”

You were shaken out of your stupor. Looking down, you were clutching the magazine too hard, ripping the image of Steve and the woman in half, right in the middle where their hands met.

You apologized to the man and paid for the magazine. Immediately discarding it in the next trash bin you saw.

“So… you and Sharon?” Sam had asked him after training.

“What?” 

“You, and, Sharon,” Sam emphasized, pronouncing each syllable. “Are together. Man, when were you gonna tell me? I thought it was over.”

Steve froze before replying, “Because it is. A long time ago.”

“Well, this seems to say otherwise.” 

Sam showed him his phone, the screen displaying an article; ‘Captain America’s Girl Revealed. A Family Affair That Transcends Time.’ On top of the article was a photo of him and Sharon at the cafe in DC, his hand atop of hers on the table. A zoomed in version of their hands were provided, fueling the tabloid’s narrative.

Steve paled at the sight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his fears manifested; his anonymity taken, his privacy invaded, but his worst fear was putting his loved ones in danger. And if it was due to their association with him, it would leave him racked with guilt. 

While the tabloids were wrong, he knew that Sharon could defend for herself. You on the other hand… 

His heart rate rose, a new wave of anxiety spiked. Steve wondered if you’ve seen this. No, you must’ve seen this. 

Fishing for his phone, with clammy hands, Steve quickly dialed your number, anxiously waiting for the beeping to end. 

‘The number you’ve dialed is not—‘

“Damn it!”

His outburst surprised Sam, shocking him. Sam gave him a look, inquisitive. 

“Sorry Sam, I have to run.” 

He left, heart in his throat.

When Steve arrived at your apartment, he was almost out of breath. He was still anxious, the ride here not doing much to his addled mind. But he was determined.

Rapidly knocking on your front door, Steve composed himself. When it opened, he was met with the sight of your roommate -- the one that he has never met before.

“Ca-Captain America?” she yelped, shocked to see him on the doorstep.

“Is your roommate in?” he steeled.

“Which one—” 

“Steve,” a voice interrupted.

The door pulled further, widening the entrance. Steve was met with your familiar roommate. She was tense, arms locked across her chest, eyes full of fury. Steve detected something else in them; worry.

“You fucked up,” she said. He winced.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m here to make things right. Can I please see her?”

She sighed, stepping in, nodding towards your room. 

Steve hastily walked in, stopping in front of your door. He knocked thrice, signalling you, before turning the knob. It was unlocked. The room was dark when he entered, every source of light switched off, except for your curtains. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed was you, figure illuminated by the street lights against pitch black darkness. When he stepped in closer, you looked up, eyes meeting his. 

Steve turned on the lights and closed the door. He took a good look at you; hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot and dry, nose red. You were the image of heartbreak.

“Are you ashamed of me?” you asked, eyes locked with his. 

“What? No, I—“

“Is it because I’m not strong?” you cut him off. “I know she’s Peggy’s niece… a-and I know how much you loved her. She was your first love.”

“She and I, it’s all in the past. She moved on and lived her life, and I… did too.”

“But did you really, Steve? Move on?” you whispered, getting up. You stood in front of him. Steve could see how puffed your eyes were from crying. “Or was I just… a rebound?”

“No. No, you were never a rebound,” he took hold of your forearms. “I care for you, too much.”

“Then why?!” you shrieked, shocking Steve. “Why the secrets? Why the hiding? Steve, you’ve never even introduced me to your friends. Shouldn’t they know?”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me from what?!” you roared, eyes full of fury. “The Avengers? If they knew about me, they would protect me. Don’t you think so?”

Steve had no words to that, his mind a jumbled mess.

“I’m… beginning to think that you’re embarrassed with me,” you sighed. “We’ve never been on a date publicly, as each other. We’ve never held hands in public. I want you to meet my friends. I want to introduce you to them, and maybe soon, I want you to meet my family.”

“B-but, I’m tired, Steve. Tired of all the hiding. Of all the sneaking around. I want to tell the world that I’m in love with Steve Rogers, not Captain America,” you sighed, shedding a few tears.

You waited for his reply, only to be disappointed. 

“You know I can’t do that.”

You saw red. All you saw was red. 

You started pushing him, swatting him in the chest. Steve didn’t fight back, letting you unleash your anger, your disappointment. He took your hits, letting you release your pent up emotions. He began backing away when you started advancing, back against the door.

“Get out! Get out!” you screeched, pushing him.

When he unlocked the door and crossed, you immediately shut the door in his face. Steve heard sobbing from inside, his heart shattering at the sounds. 

“This way, Captain,” your roommate approached him, showing him to the door.

Steve relented, shame flooding him. He fucked up.

You stopped visiting The Sleeping Cat, wanting to avoid him at all costs. You blocked his number. You immersed yourself in your work, prepping for the upcoming charity gala. 

Sometimes you find yourself thinking about him when sleep proved to be difficult. It’s when you’re laying at night that you missed him the most.

But it was for the best, you reasoned. For you and him.

The Avengers PR had pushed for a fix-it, publishing a story that spoke a truth. ‘Just Friends: Romantic Allegations Proved False’. Steve had hoped you’d seen it. 

He called you every day but found himself blocked from everything. He still tried, hoping you’d come around one day. He came by The Sleeping Cat every other day, sitting in the same spot, hoping to catch you. 

But you never came.

You clasped the necklace in place, admiring how it sat on your clavicle through the mirror. You took a step back and took yourself in, smiling at what you saw. It didn’t reach your eyes.

Today was the day of the Valentines gala and you weren’t feeling particularly giddy about it. 

Opening your phone, you stared at the one contact that stood out, finger hovering over his name. That name used to give you so many feelings, but today it was a reminder that you were going alone, again.

Sighing, you threw it in your purse and left. Another lonely night, and on an even celebrating love.

Days turned into weeks, and soon, before he knew it, the day of your Valentines gala arrived. 

Steve stared at the calendar. The heart-shaped doodle he drew called out to him, reminding him of fond memories. Fond memories that seemed like a distant dream. But then, he went back to last week, and it all came crashing.

He had hurt you. While thinking he was protecting you, he hadn’t realized he was inadvertently pushing you away. He had no one to blame but himself. 

He loved you. No, still loves you. You grounded him, gave him the normalcy that he craved. Reminded him of a distant time before he was Captain America. 

You made him feel like the boy from Brooklyn again.

While he was ruminating in his feelings, Steve was caught off-guard when the door burst open with Tony Stark coming through. From his peripheral, he could see Bucky and Sam peeking through the frame.

“Heard from the Manchurian Candidate that someone has a case of the achy breaky heart,” Tony said, smug.

“Leave me alone, Tony. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled, setting down the calendar. 

“And leave you wallowing like shit while your girl is out there probably equally miserable? I know a thing or two about women, Rogers, and it’s that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Tony snapped his fingers and from behind, Sam came in with a tuxedo in hand.

“Thought you might need this,” Sam said. 

Bucky came out behind him, with a brush and can of hairspray. “And I still know how to do hair.”

“And I have friends in places,” Tony quipped. “I can get you in.”

Steve was surprised. His friends had surprised him. You would’ve loved them. He was left speechless.

“What are you waiting for, Cap? Suit up.” Tony winked.

Swirling the glass of rosé, your gaze fell towards the dance floor. An upbeat song was being played as people flocked near the middle, letting their bodies take charge for the night. You saw your former co-workers among the throng, hands thrown around their significant others, having the time of their lives.

The gala was in full swing, if the crowd and chatter was any indication. Red and roses were the main theme, with a red carpet stretching from the grand staircase towards the main hall and roses lining every corner and wall. Taking it all in, you were proud to see your ideas visualized and work came to fruition.

You sipped your rosé, enjoying every bit of the gala as you could. From the sidelines, you spoke with a few potential clients and art collectors. Their presence made you feel your importance, and if you dared say it, a little less lonely.

It was during one of your little chats that you didn’t realize when the hall suddenly fell quiet. You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi folks, mind if I crash your party?”

Steve smiled at Tony’s antics. They both had arrived at the gallery dressed in their best, and with Tony’s connections, they were granted access. 

Stepping down the grand staircase, Steve felt all eyes on him. He paid them no mind, the thought of you the only occupant of his racing mind. Gazing over the crowd, Steve spotted you to the side, occupied in a chatter. 

Taking deliberate steps, Steve soon found himself behind you. He admired your gown and hair, it entranced him. You still hadn’t registered his presence, even when your partner had ceased chatting and was now staring at him.

With a tap on your shoulder, he was taken away as immediately as you spun around. Steve took in your whole image; your dolled-up face, your intricate dress, your styled hair. It left him floored.

You always did manage to take his breath away. Was this what he had been missing out all this time?

Taking your unoccupied hand, Steve pressed a small kiss before meeting your eyes. 

“May I have this dance?”

Giving away your drink, you took his hand as he pulled your towards the centre, taking space among the crowd. A slow number started, and before you realized, you were swept in a slow dance. It didn’t take long before you felt the sensation of his two left feet.

“Sorry, a hundred years and you’d think I’d know how to dance,” he said.

A small smile lightened your face. Steve savoured it all he could. Gulping, he took the first step.

“I’m... sorry for what I’ve done. I realize now that you were right,” he started. “I thought I was protecting you, but now I see that all it did was push you away. You have all the rights to be mad at me. I was being an idiot, a selfish one. I didn’t think about how you felt about it.”

You winced. Steve had stepped on your toes again. He murmured an apology, resorting to swaying instead.

“Can we start again? No more hiding. No more disguises,” he breathed, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “ We can meet your friends, you can meet mine. Bucky’s been pestering me to bring you to the compound, he wants to meet you.”

You laughed. How Steve had missed the tune.

“How can I make it up to you? How do you want to take the first step? A picnic at Central Park? Dinner at the compound? A trip to the beach?”

You seemed to contemplate, a thoughtful look on your face. You both failed to realize all the eyes on you two.

“How about now?”

“Right here? Right now?” he asked.

“Yes, right here, right now,” you said, determined.

Without hesitation —no more— Steve dived in, planting a kiss on your wine-coloured lips for the whole world to see. Your first kiss in public, yet it felt as if it was only the two of you there, lost in the moment. 

You both didn’t notice the gasping crowd nor the clicks of cameras from photographers nor the booming laughter of Tony Stark. You both only felt the other in your orbit, and that was all that mattered.

“Can you put that down? You’ve been staring at it for the past hour.”

You pouted, setting the frame on the side table, where it has been designated since its publication. 

“I can’t help it, I think it’s a good shot. Don’t you think so, Alpine?” you petted the snowy white cat lazing on the arm of the sofa. Its’ purrs intensified.

“Dinner’s ready!” Bucky shouted.

You and Steve left the room, joining the others in the dining room for dinner. On the side table, the framed article sat neatly, showcasing the tale of the famed occurrence that took place at a charity gala.

‘America’s Girl: The Modern Woman of The Captain’s Dreams.’

Fin.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠) 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎! 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐× 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎! 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣)× 𝚂𝚙𝚢! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝚞

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙻𝚒𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐....𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟻.𝟻𝙺

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙾𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝*𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 (𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗), 𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢.

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires

↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬↬

The lieutenant ran his fingers across his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh as he paced back and forth around the desk. His eyes would sometimes look back at the young woman sitting in the chair across the desk, arms crossed, leg draped over the other and a stoic facial expression that had been plastered on since the moment they caught her.

It wasn't an easy task. She nearly slipped out of their hands like most of her colleagues did, but not this time. This time they were finally able to catch one of their enemies and they were going to make use of it through interrogation.

The problem?

There was nothing that would make her budge. The other sergeants and officers already put her through the grueling process of locking her up in solitary confinement, used menacing intimidation and even threatened to kill her on the spot, which did result in finally getting a reaction out of her, an amused smirk on her lips.

"You're not going to kill me. You need me, no matter what way you look at it. If you finish me off, you won't be any closer to finding out what we're planning. But please, feel free to pull the trigger if you wish."

She was smart, too smart, too loyal and to stubborn to say anything other than mock teasing and sarcastic comments to all members of the police force. The chief of police was so tired and irked by her uncooperative attitude and the ineptitude of his subordinates that he delegated the task of breaking her to the two men whom he knew would definitely get the job done:

Captain Kang and Lieutenant Choi.

They both knew they were up against a hard headed individual, but even she was testing their patience. The lieutenant was already tired and ready to punch that pretty face of hers, while the captain was still sitting on the couch next to her, silently observing her every move and facial expression, or lack of one, to see anything that might give something away. But even he admitted to himself that he was quite impressed by her devotion to her gang.

He was broken out of his trance when he heard the lieutenant punch the wood desk in front of him.

"That's it! I'm sick and tired of you little vixen being so stubborn! I'll get the answers out of you one way or another!"

When he began marching over to her, the captain immediately got up and held him back.

"Jongho! Stop. We're not supposed to lay any hands on a suspect." Yeosang calmly reminded him.

"I don't give a fuck right now Yeosang! Hongjoong told us to get the job done by any means necessary and I'm honestly not above beating the crap out of a cold blooded killer like her."

The killer in question let out a scoff and rolled her eyes.

"You call us cold blooded killers, but how many times have your subordinates shot people right on the spot before even confirming it was the right target?"

Both of the men looked over at her, their faces looking somewhat ashamed.

"Exactly what I thought." She concluded her point.

Jongho was going to say something, but Yeosang hushed him.

"Let me handle this for a moment."

Jongho shook his head and went to go slump down on the couch, exhausted from dealing with the suspect after 4 long hours. Yeosang calmly went to stand right in front of her. As opposed to sitting on the chair behind the desk, he casually hopped on top of it and let his legs swing on the air.

"Y/N, is it?" He tilted his head.

"So the folder says right?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty name nonetheless."

His smile caught her off guard. He, like her, had a usually cool and collected expression, so to see him suddenly show emotion kinda startled her. Yeosang folded his hands across his lap.

"Now then my dear Y/N, you've been here for nearly 2 weeks now. I'm sure you, like most of my men here, are exhausted and utterly tired from all these....negotiations."

She held back from saying anything. She wouldn't necessarily call it negotiations if it was all very ine sided and they just seemed to throw threats at her left and right.

"So...tell me, what is it going to take for you to talk? Hmm?"

Yeosang batted his eyelashes at her, looking at her with such an intense gaze that burned a hole in her skin. She felt herself flush. He was remarkably good looking, and that formal attire wasn't helping. Noticing that he was indeed affecting her, Yeosang smirked and got off the desk.

"Tell me....is there something you want in exchange?"

His hands were placed behind his back as he rounded up behind her, eyes bearing down on her, catching sight of the cleavage peeking out from the beige trench coat she was wearing. Unconsciously, he licked his lips as a dangerous yet thrilling idea popped into his head. Placing his hands on her shoulders and rubbing them gently, Yeosang bent his head down to whisper in her ear.

"Come on doll, everyone cracks at one point or another.......so what's it going to be for you to put that pretty mouth of yours to work?"

She involuntarily shivered at his deep voice, which he purposefully lowered to produce a bigger effect on her. Dragging his lips down the side of her neck, his fingers began undoing the belt across her coat. The suspect looked down and panicked as she remembered that she wasn't wearing any actual clothes under it, only a black lingerie set consisting of a bra, panties and fishnet thigh thighs with a garter belt, a naughty little secret that Yeosang soon found out about it.

"Oh god, you kinky little girl." He chuckled as he placed hot, open mouth kisses on her shoulder.

"Ummm....Yeosang? We're not supposed to-...."

Jongho's tense voice reminded them both that they weren't alone.

"I know, not supposed to lay a finger on a suspects. But as you said, Hongjoong gave us permission to get her talking by any means necessary..."

Yeosang looked back at his partner as he began to turn Y/N's chair so he could get a glimpse of her.

"Now look at this pretty little doll and tell me you don't want to put your hands on her."

Jongho's eyes widened when he saw her undergarments on display, a tent immediately growing on his pants that made him feel embarrassed.

"Bloody hell..." Jongho bit his lips.

Agreeing with him, Yeosang turned his attention back to the young woman in the chair.

"Now babydoll, I'm going to say this once again: are you going to start talking or should my partner and I break you?"

The spy let out a dry laugh.

"You'll never break me."

Both Yeosang and Jongho glanced at each other, smirking at her answer.

"Is that a challenge? Fine. Have it your way."

Not knowing how he did, Y/N soon found herself on top of the desk in the blink of an eye, coat dropped to the floor, legs spread with Yeosang in between them. His delicate fingers held her chin up as he kissed her roughly. He slapped the bare skin of her thigh when she tried to push him away, eliciting a sharp whine from her. Moving his fingers to harshly squeeze her cheeks, Yeosang growled as he bit down on her lip.

"Open your mouth." He commanded her.

When she yet again refused, he slapped her once again on the same spot he had hit previously, this time with more force. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, one hand going to the back of her head and pulling her hair back so he could explore her mouth even deeper.

Meanwhile Jongho was squirming in his seat, hand restlessly palming in between his legs.

"Hyung....can't I at least see?" He complained as the older male's body prevented him from seeing the scantily clad woman.

"You'll get your turn eventually Jongho. I'm simply warming up our suspect first."

Yeosang dragged his mouth down her neck, suckling at her soft skin til he was sure to leave bruises plastered for the days to come. Y/N gasped when he suddenly slipped a hand inside her panties, hand palming at her folds, feeling all the arousal she had already produced.

"You're being very cooperative so far doll." Yeosang pecked her lips and chuckled darkly.

"Even if I did have to get a little rough."

Moving aside so Jongho could get a clear view, Yeosang began to strip off the remaining clothing off her til she sat there naked in front of the two men who were still in their uniforms. Feeling shy at being exposed in front of the two authority figures, she quickly clenched her thighs shut and wrapped her arms around her chest. Frowning at her actions, Yeosang pulled her arms away.

"Hey, baby, no. We're having none of that. Don't make me get the handcuffs."

She let out a shameless moan, her tight hole clenching around nothing as she pictured them bending her over the desk and binding her arms behind her.

"Hyung, I think she'd like that." Jongho didn't miss the way she reacted, a snort coming out of his nose.

"As much as I'd like that, I wanna see her be a good girl for us, cause she can be. Right doll? You can be a good girl for us right?"

Y/N wanted to do the exact opposite, disobey them and be the bad girl she knew she was. She looked over at Yeosang with a defiant look that seemed to ask 'try me', which he noticed. When she was about to speak, he quickly shushed her when he cupped her soaked heat, thumb circling her clit, causing her to let out a choked gasp.

"There now, you see you can be a good girl."

With his thumb not leaving her clit, 2 fingers began probing at her entrance, testing the waters before pushing them inside her. Y/N threw her head back and hummed erotically at the way Yeosang worked his fingers inside her, curling the tips to brush against her sweet spot.

"God Jongho she's so wet and tight."

Jongho let out a moan, the hand that was wrapped around the base of his thick and girthy cock pumping faster, thumb playing with his slit.

"Fuck. I can't wait to be inside her, I bet she'll hug our cocks very nicely." He groaned.

Yeosang sped up his movements, fingers circling in and out of her.

"I can't wait to taste her. Shit."

Y/N squeaked loudly when Yeosang dropped to his knees and attached his lips to her clit, slurping and sucking at it, tongue toying around with it as he pleased. He alternated between giving it kitten licks before covering it entirely with his mouth, tongue lapping at her bud as if it was his last meal. It is too much for her, having his long fingers pumping in and out of her at an incredible speed while his mouth was focused on playing around with her clit.

"Hyung I think she's going to cum." Jongho pointed out, fascinated by the scene taking place in front of him.

Humming into her mound, Yeosang smirked before stuffing a third finger in, effectively sending her over the edge as she began cumming on his face and fingers. He let out an accomplished sigh as he pulled his fingers out of her and spread her folds apart to place his mouth on her dripping hole, collecting every last bit of her juices.

Although she was worn out, she had no time to rest as Yeosang picked her up and began carrying her over to the couch, placing her on Jongho's lap.

"She's all yours for now Lieutenant. I suggest you behave darling, he's known for getting a little rough." Yeosang winked at her.

Y/N looked down at the dark haired male, his deep brown eyes staring at her with intense lust and want. Her eyes took in his arms, the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up past his elbows, but even underneath the fabric, she could see his muscles poking out, threatening to tear through the shirt. He was big, and it made her wonder how it would feel to have those strong arms hoist her up into the wall and fuck the living daylights out of her. Before she could even finish that fantasy, her gaze traveled further down and noticed how ridiculously thick his thighs were....

And she was straddling them right at that moment.

Noticing where she was looking at, Jongho let out an amused laugh.

"You like them baby?"

She nodded immediately, hand reaching down to grip one of them. His muscles were no joke and when he flexed his thigh, she felt herself get heated once more. Understanding what the situation was, Jongho leaned in and ran his thumb across her bottom lip.

"Wanna ride my thigh babygirl?"

Seeing her eyes sparkle at his suggestion, Jongho couldn't help but mutter to himself how cute she was. Setting her down next to him, he quickly pulled his pants down, leaving himself only in his boxer briefs. Y/N was practically drooling at the sight of his thighs. They were even better than she imagined. Jongho patted them.

"Take your pick love."

Y/N scrambled to sit up and hoist one leg over the thigh nearest to her. Jongho's large hands gripped her hips, eyes looking up at her.

"Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my thigh babygirl."

Jongho watched in amazement as she began grinding her hips down onto him, the slick of her previous orgasm coating his skin. He couldn't keep his hands to himself as they went from her hips down to cup her ass, squeezing her cheeks apart and then harshly pinching them. One hand even came up then came back down to slap her thigh harshly, making Y/N yelp.

"I said fuck yourself on my thigh. Can't even do that? Is that too much for a dumb slut like you?" He mocked her.

Her hands held onto his shoulders as she began to rut herself faster on his thigh, desperate to chase the high was fast approaching her once more. Jongho's hand slapped her ass once more.

"That's it. Just like that. Fuck yourself on my thigh like the horny little bitch you are."

He slapped her 3 more times before he opened his mouth and took one of her breasts inside it. His tongue swirled around her nipple before sucking on it. Feeling a little more sadistic, he actually placed much of her breasts in his mouth before sinking his teeth down, causing her to let out more than a couple shrieks at his rough treatment.

"Oh shut up you know you like it you whore." He said as he slapped her chest with full force, her breasts bouncing from the hit.

She never thought she'd ever get turned on by such disrespect but here she was, fucking herself on a detective's thigh as his hands were either slapping her ass or tits and his mouth left bites across her chest, slurping away at her succulent nipples.

"You gonna cum you little bitch? Cum again like the slut you are? I bet you are."

Jongho flexed his thigh as he felt her speed up her movements. His hands grabbed both of her tits and pressed them together. Dipping his head low, he sucked both of them into his mouth, unashamedly letting out loud suckling sounds as he worked her towards her second high. With her head thrown back, Y/N quivered on top of Jongho. With a loud popping sound, he released his hold on her boobs to grip her thighs and keep her from falling onto the floor. He kept pushing his thigh up into her, fucking her through her high, tears spilling out from how sensitive she was.

"You wanted to cum and making sure you cum as much as you can. Make a mess on my thigh."

Jongho watched as a thin trail of slick rolled off his thigh and onto the carpet under his feet. His hands still bounced the girl on top of him until her breathing calmed down.

"That's a good little bitch." He giggled softly, staring proudly at his work in front of him.

Turning back towards the desk, Jongho looked at Yeosang who by this time had already stripped himself completely of his attire.

"What do we do with her now?" Jongho waited for instructions.

With a mischievous grin, Yeosang beckoned both of them over with his finger.

"Bring her over here. It's our turn to have a little fun."

Getting the hint, Jongho effortlessly picked her up as if she weighed nothing. He delicately carried her over to the desk, peppering butterfly kisses on her face, getting her guard down for the moment. When she was relaxed, he immediately slammed her down onto the desk, her body jolting up from how hard she fell back. Yeosang looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Jongho, she's still a material witness. Try not to break our only piece of evidence please."

Jongho scoffed.

"We're literally about to make a mess all over her body and then fuck her dumb, I doubt there's no way we can't not break her. Besides....."

He looked down at her flustered figure, hand caressing her cheek.

"The kitten here likes it rough. Why do you think her claws haven't retracted yet?"

Giving her cheek a little pat, Jongho began untying his tie, loosening it up before throwing it across the room, his shirt soon following in the similar fashion. Y/N's eyes shot wide when she saw his buff, toned body, his arms were huge and could probably crush her without breaking so much as a sweat. Her gaze was ripped away when she felt Yeosang crawl up her body, his thighs straddling her chest as his long member slapped in between the valley of her breasts.

"Let me give you a run down of how this is going to work doll. I'm going to fuck these pretty tits of yours while you make sure to suck Jongho off real good. Got it?"

Y/N obediently nodded, more than willing to let the two men use her like a mere fuck toy. Her hand gripped Yeosang's cock, spreading a bit of precum around before lightly stroking him, working him up before he fucked her tits.

"Spit on it."

Following his orders, she spat on his cock, using it as lubricant to spread all over him. Her thumb played with the head, circling around it and toying around with the slit. They were so immersed in their little world, the man next to them fuming at being forgotten. He caught her attention once again when he hit her face with his thick cock. Y/N's mouth dropped open immediately when she saw it. It was so big, bigger than anything she'd seen let alone put inside any of her holes. He teased her by sliding the tip across her face, her tongue darting out to have a little taste but he pulled back, making her whine.

"Tsk. I knew she was a hungry little cockslut." Jongho said in mock pity.

"Don't tell me you're actually going to turn down her offer of sucking you off." Yeosang knew better.

"Fuck no. But she's not just going to suck me off. I'm going to fuck that little face of hers until her lips are red and swollen. Gonna make a mess all over that pretty face of hers." He grinned evilly.

Removing her hand from his cock, Yeosang instead guided her to cup her breasts, squeezing them together before he slipped his cock in between them. Y/N kept her eyes glued on the sinful image, enjoying seeing his head poke out from her tits. As if it couldn't get better, Jongho placed his hand on her chin, guiding her face to look up and take his cock inside her mouth, barely fitting half of it inside.

"It's so warm." Jongho held back from immediately fucking her mouth.

"Makes you wonder how her pussy feels doesn't it?" Yeosang chuckled.

Looking back down at her stuffed face and chest, the men lightly cooed at her, moving some hair away from her face.

"If you want us to stop or it gets too much, just tap on Jongho's thigh 3 times ok?"

She held up a thumbs up at their words. Once she gave them the green light, they didn't hesitate to start moving, one sliding his cock back and forth between her boobs while the other pulled in and out of her mouth. Y/N worked hard to concentrate on sucking Jongho off while keeping her breasts pressed around Yeosang's cock. She felt so dirty committing all these sinful acts with these men of power, what would her gang say if they found out she got involved so intimately with the enemy? She didn't care. She was too stuffed with 2 large cocks to give 2 damns at the moment.

"Fuck- just like that baby- Oh god yes! You're doing such a good job." Jongho hissed as he pushed deeper into her mouth, grunting when he heard her gag around his length.

Unlike his more vocal partner, Yeosang was more on the quiet side, mostly letting out blissful sighs and heavy breathing, although occasionally he let out a loud groan when he rubbed against her squishy skin in a certain way. His hands moved to keep her breasts pressed against his dick, letting her take a break and steady herself on the desk underneath her for what was going to come.

Jongho was the first one to get rough. His hands held her face in place as he began furiously fucking her mouth. Y/N hollowed out her cheeks as much as she could, saliva pouring down her cheek and chin from how hard Jongho was going. She began releasing a series of whimpers which were occasionally choked out when he forced her to deep throat his entire length, her nose touching and inhaling his large balls.

Yeosang soon followed suit, his thrusts becoming more sloppy, voice now becoming louder as he felt himself cumming any minute now.

"Fuck! Oh my-"

Yeosang dug his nails into her skin from how tightly he was gripping her tits together, he began gasping as he tried to fuck himself over the edge. Jongho noticed and couldn't stop the shit eating grin on his face from appearing.

"If only you could see Hyung's face right now kitten. He looks so pathetic, whining like a little brat trying to cum all over your tits."

"Sh-shut up!" Yeosang stuttered, eyes clenched as he felt himself on the brink of his high.

"You ready to have your tits all covered in his cum? Hmm? I bet you are, Hyung is just dying to paint all over them."

No longer able to hold back, Yeosang released his hold on her breasts, one hand coming up to finish jerking himself off as his cum spurted all over her chest, some of it hitting her chin. Y/N moaned erotically when she felt his hot and sticky liquid coat her boobs. Pulling Jongho's length out of her mouth, she began to pump him to get him to spill himself as well.

"Cum on my face Lieutenant, please. Make a mess on my pretty little face."

Unable to resist her begging nor her mouth opening wide, tongue sticking out to catch his semen once it did come out, Jongho cursed loudly. His hips stuttered and Y/N closed her eyes when his cum began to shoot at her face. Her hand didn't cease to pump him until she made sure she had milked him out of all his cum. Swirling her tongue around her lips to collect more of his cum in her mouth, her hands went to her breasts, groping them and spreading more Yeosang's cum across her body. The men were left speechless at her actions.

"Holy shit." Yeosang stared in shock while Jongho snickered.

"Told you she was a dirty little slut."

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at his words.

"Guilty as charged."

Struggling to sit up, Yeosang kindly helped her out, his arms wrapping around her waist as he stared at her with loving eyes.

"You know, even with all that cum on your face, you're still very beautiful." He complimented her, giving her nose a tiny peck.

"Don't fall for her yet romeo, we still need to get her to talk and frankly...I'm not done with her yet."

Yeosang looked back at Jongho.

"Ok, so you wanna go first in pounding her sweet pussy?"

Having another idea, Jongho had a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Actually.....I was thinking about stuffing my cock inside her ass."

Y/N whipped her head back at the strong male, Yeosang also looking at him with an incredulous look, but Jongho simply shrugged.

"What? You got a thing for tits and I have a thing for ass. Who are you judging? Now if you're not going to do anything else, hand her over to me and I'll handle her."

Yeosang thought about it for a few seconds. Still holding Y/N, he picked her up and moved her to the couch, whispering something in her ear. She blushed at his suggestion, making Yeosang giggle.

"If you don't want to, that's ok." He assured her, lips kissing across her temples.

Y/N looked at Jongho, who was waiting impatiently for an answer. Cupping Yeosang's face, she kissed him softly before pulling back and nodding. Feeling content with her answer, Yeosang pointed to the spot next to them on the couch.

"Sit."

Although he was taken aback by the sudden order, Jongho nonetheless went over and sat next to the rather lovey dovey couple. Yeosang carefully lifted Y/N up and placed her on Jongho's lap.

"Be extremely gentle when entering her behind ok? It doesn't work the same as the other hole."

Jongho furrowed his eyebrows.

"Are you seriously about to give me a sex ed class right now? I know what I'm doing man."

Wetting one of his fingers, Jongho circled around Y/N's rim, gently testing at first. Slipping his finger in, he payed attention to her body movements and breathing, stopping whenever she squirmed too much or when she inhaled too sharply. Once his finger was in, he stilled in there for a few seconds before proceeding to stretch her hole out. It was a foreign sensation to her, and although it ached for a fat minute, Y/N soon found herself loving the feeling. And soon Jongho's finger wasn't enough and she craved more. Her hand reached back to grip his arm.

"Please.....more.." She pleaded with him.

Slipping his finger out, Jongho quickly positioned his thick cock at her ass, slowly sinking her down onto it. Y/N lost her voice, the noises that were supposed to come out of her mouth becoming mute as she felt overwhelmed by Jongho's cock ripping through her virgin ass.

"Easy there. Give her time to adjust." Yeosang reminded him, his hands going to her hair to caress her scalp in a tender way.

Y/N took deep and steady breaths, letting her body become adjusted to the intrusion of Jongho's cock. She lifted herself up and sank back down, experimenting for a moment to check if she was ok. Twisting her neck, she caught sight of Jongho's eyes which were silently asking her if it was all right to proceed. She nodded and with that, his hands lifted her up and sunk her back down onto his length.

"Jesus. She's so tight." He rasped out, wanting to bounce her as he liked but held back until he felt she was ready.

Y/N soon got adjusted to having him hit her from the back, but she felt like something was missing. Her hand reached down to play with her clit, but even that didn't prove to be as effective. Turning to Yeosang, she looked up at him with glossy eyes.

"Yeosang can you-?"

He looked towards where she pointed at. Getting the hint, he guided her to lean back against Jongho so it'd be easier for him to push inside of her. Locking eyes with her, he slammed his length fully in her with one swift roll of his hips, making both of them moan at that.

"H-hyung! Even I felt that!" Jongho blurted out, his hips snapping up and making Y/N bounce on his cock.

"Good. I want you both to feel as I fuck and claim this little pussy."

Draping her arms around his shoulders, Yeosang began a rather fast pace as his cock stroked deep inside of her. The room was filled with nothing but the lewd sounds of their skin slapping against one another, squealching noises from their previous spurt of liquids and the harsh breaths and pants coming out of their mouths. Jongho had his head thrown back against the wall, hands digging into the sides of Y/N's waist, swears coming out of his mouth so many times it'd put sailors to shame. Yeosang either kept his eyes glued towards where he and Y/N were connected or back up at her face, watching her face contort with pleasure as she was being fucked past her limit. Kissing her once again, he muffled both hers and his grunts, hand reaching down to rub at her clit. Y/N whimpered uncontrollably as she felt her third orgasm for the night wash over her, body shaking and quivering wildly. If she wasn't being held up by both men, she would have surely collapsed on the floor. Her walls tightened around Yeosang's length, inching him closer to his second orgasm.

"Is it ok if I cum inside you doll? Will you let me do that? Please?"

Through tears in her eyes, she quickly nodded nearly combusting for another time when Yeosang coated her inner walls with his cum, a chant of her name coming out of his mouth as he continued to thrust inside her until he came down from his high. Jongho was not far behind. Feeling her thrash on top of him and seeing Yeosang cum served to push him over the edge as well. He slammed up against Y/N as he fucked his cum up her ass, some of it leaking out and spilling onto his thighs.

"Oh god oh God Oh god!" He cried out, hips stilling when he finally stopped cumming, his body desperately gasping for air.

They all stayed quiet for a moment. Yeosang was the first to recover. Pulling out of Y/N, he then lifted her off Jongho. She grimaced at the dull sting she felt after having both of her holes used and at ached at the empty feeling afterwards. Yeosang carefully laid her on the couch while Jongho went to go get some wet tissues and hand towels they kept in the room to clean themselves and her up. After making sure she was wiped down thoroughly, Yeosang grabbed one of his coats that were hanging in the room and covered her in it. His hand lightly patted her head, fingers delicately running through her hair, a fond smile was plastered on his face. Knowing that look too well, Jongho shook his head.

"Hyung, don't get any ideas. She's still a suspect and we still have a job to do."

Getting brought back to reality, Yeosang let out a defeated sigh.

"I doubt she'll still want to talk though."

Opening her eyes, Y/N finally admitted something.

"It's not that I don't want to, it's that I'm scared."

Both men looked at her with concern.

"If I open my mouth, I know they'll come hunt me down and do god knows what for opening my mouth." She explained.

Finally understanding what she meant, both men sat down beside her.

"Y/N, you don't have to be afraid. I give you my word, not only as captain of the police force, but as me, Kang Yeosang, I promise that I won't let anything happen to you should you choose to cooperate with us. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Lifting her hand up, he placed a tender kiss on the top of it.

"I'll make sure to keep surveillance on and around you at all times and you can stay with one of us until we bring the criminals down." Jongho added as well.

Looking into their eyes, she felt comforted and safe enough to trust them. Sitting up, she clutched Yeosang's hand tightly and gave them both a dry laugh.

"Guess you guys really did break me huh?"

Both men laughed along with her.

"What can we say? We're just too good at our job."

They both sent each other a mischievous wink and smirk, before returning their gaze back to the female on the couch, ready to start listening to her story.

[appavevo]

ok ...........ok.........so like i said before i could never consider eurus canon and that is true, for many reasons. like 1. its completely out of nowhere like even though they “hinted” at it in hlv with that line this is still......completely out there. 2. its dumb lol ? 3. it doesn’t make sense with the rest of the shows plot? like at all. maybe this is the same as 1 but whatever. 4 IT DOES A HUGE DISSERVICE TO SHERLOCKS CHARACTER??? i mean his whole thing in tab was “i made me” and now its this? also like, one of the best things about the show is the relationship between sherlock and john, whether platonic or romantic, its the TWO OF THEM, the dynamic, which is the reason its so fuckin popular (i guess that might be subjective) but like, theres that post talking about how sherlock is more ordinary than he seems and john is more extraordinary than he seems and that’s !!!!! that’s it!!!!! i love seeing john, who everyone things is regular and bumbling and all that be aggressive and dangerous and smart and all that. and i love seeing sherlock, the person everyone things is mysterious or unfeeling or robotic or whatever, and seeing that he has a sweet tooth, or likes the smell of lilac, or that his parents are actually kind of normal. like i think its pretty common with characters like that, characters that hide a lot of their “human” side??? characters that are usually known for being severe and moody and very detached, characters like hotch from criminal minds and (i can’t think of another example rn but i know there are many). its endearing when characters like that show some kind of ordinary/human side and this whole thing with eurus??? 

it just felt like something i wouuld think of as a kid??? like ok jeez not to be embarrassing but when i was like ~12 i was SUPER into the nanny, and like part of the nanny is fran being herself and some people thinking shes annoying or dumb, and that made me mad bc she was great so i would sometimes come up with these scenarios where she had this crazy dark past, or something nuts that she went through and people would find out and by like :0 wow now we need to take her seriously, like shit like that was ALL OVER my brain when i was a kid and this feels like that, shitty plot and all lol.

like having this crazy secret sister doesn’t make sherlock more interesting, it makes him less so, and that’s like.........infuriating

ALSO

MORE RANTING

okay so like in s3, his parents are shown to be normal but also like......not terrible? like obviously sherlock is like “my mom doesn’t understand me” a few times, but they love and him understand who he is and what he does but want him to be safe, and like......idk its really weird to think of them being in this kind of crazy secret in which their 6 year old or whatever needs to be locked away. and them telling mycroft that he should have done better when he literally would have been a child himself when all this started :/ like come on . they really did make mycroft a baffoon in s4 i know i’ve said it before but all the redeeming qualities theyve givin him over the last 3 seasons just vanished bc he said sherlock doesn’t have emotion and he fucked lady smallwood. like where was the mycroft that was like “take care of him” to john on the plane? i guess he died or somthing smh..

don’t get me STARTED on mary

and don’t get me STARTED on the whole redbeard nonsense. the whole redbeard being a kid thing is  more like trying to make sherlocks back story as CRAZY AS POSSIBLE, and that’s just like..............BAD WRITING? IDK CALL ME DUMB TELL ME I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT I’M TIRED OF BEING NUANCED. JESUS CHRIST. 

and like, the first 3 seasons weren’t PERFECT, there were things in there that were a little iffy plot wise but like......it didn’t matter bc the bigger picture waas good but now its like just shoot me in the head idc

[littledreamybeth]

Our little secret

A/N: Happy new year, everyone! Let's make the first post of 2020 a fluffy one! I hope you like it! I haven't properly proof read everything, so I apologize for mistakes beforehand. Comments are highly, I stress highly appreciated.

Picture does not belong to me. Credits to the owner!

“Are you ready?” It was not impossible to overlook how nervous the young couple was. Trembling fingers interlocked, they looked at each other’s faces, searching for confirmation, or even doubt. Harry couldn’t recall being this nervous. An uneasy feeling had settled in his gut since he was sitting in front of the camera. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t really do what they were about to do, however, he also knew keeping this secret forever wouldn’t help either, because at the end somebody was going to find out anyway- as usual. He had promised Y/N he would do this, and they had talked everything out. They had taken drastic precautions, doubling their security guards and placing cameras almost everywhere in their home, so he wouldn’t be worried anymore.

“Only if you are, love,” His raspy, deep voice filled the room.  

The young woman, his partner, soulmate, wife- his love, nodded.

“Alright, here we go…” She gave her sister-in-law, Gemma, who was standing behind the camera, permission to start the recording.  The brunette woman held her thumbs up, smiling assuringly and encouragingly at the couple. Harry squeezed Y/N’s hand in comfort before he let go of her. He knew she was going to articulate with gestures. Besides, he needed to calm down himself. He was sitting there, his body in a tensed form. He had to relax. Breathing deeply in and out, the British man and his wife stared into the camera.

Here goes nothing...

“Hello everyone!” It was Y/N who spoke first. She was going to speak more since it was mostly about her. “Welcome back to my channel! I know it has been a very long while since I’ve posted anything, and I’m aware that many of you guys were concerned for me. I just vanished out of nowhere after all.” Not that anything bad had happened, no- she had a reason for all of that. But one thing after another, right?

“I highly appreciate your worry, guys. I know I owe you an explanation, and here I am, finally giving you one.” Harry’s wife had started a YouTube channel after they got together, uploading videos so that his fans could get to know her better. She was the person who rather spoke through actions than words. The amount of love she received was mind-blowing. She had never expected the support. Her videos always reached millions of views. Some of them were even with Harry and her doing couple stuff or challenges. If it wasn’t for his love, Harry would never agree to things like this. He’s private as we all know.

“First things first, I’ve seen many people speculating that Harry and I allegedly divorced, but as you can see, Mr. Styles is sitting right next to me and I’m still wearing my ring.” She pointed at the diamond ring on her finger. “I’d like to happily confirm that your assumptions about us were wrong.” She leaned over to give a kiss on his cheek, sensing how tense he was. She whispered “It’s gonna be fine” into his ear, running her hands through his brown locks before she focused on what was in front of her.  

“I want to get to the point quickly,” She stressed. “The reason why I disappeared, why I never have accompanied Harry to any special event for the past year, why I wasn’t active on social media, is because something has happened that changed our lives forever. Today, we want to share it with you.”

It was Harry’s cue to stand up, walking behind the camera to have Gemma handing him over something, or even better, someone. When he came back and sat down, he had a bundle of joy in his arms, wrapped up in a pink blanket. The tiny human being underneath, who was sleeping before her father came to get her, let out a little whimper of protest for interrupting her sleep. Harry weighed her back and forth, shushing her softly. “It’s okay, angel.”

Harry’s eyes were full of love for this little miracle. Everybody could see it. He basically had her name written in them. Whenever, their baby girl was mentioned, his eyes lit up and a large smile covered his lips. What could he say? He was a proud daddy.

Y/N blended out the camera for a second and reached out to play with her daughters tiny fingers, then directed her attention back to it. Flustered, she said, “World, meet Olivia Rose Styles. Our daughter…”

She could imagine the amount of confusion and shock their announcement would create. People for sure wouldn’t stop talking about this for weeks. (Online) Magazines and newspapers would report about them. And Twitter? Twitter was going to freak out. She chuckled at the thought.

“It’s true, people,” Harry confirmed, his attention tightly fixed on baby Styles. “We’ve become mummy and daddy.”

“Yeah, we’re parents.” Y/N nodded her head. “That’s why I disappeared. Because I was pregnant. We wanted to keep it a secret.”

It was pretty easy to hide her baby bump in the first couple of months due to the fact that she wore and always loved to wear oversized clothing. Her entire wardrobe consisted mostly of oversized shirts and pullovers, and a few of Harry’s belongings. But the bigger her belly became, the harder it was to cover up the evidence. So, she decided to step out of the spotlight and enjoy her pregnancy to the fullest without any factors that stressed her out. Y/N belonged to the category of people who were easily stressed over the tiniest things; reading negative articles or tweets about her alone was enough to drive her insane, and because she knew that everything stressing her out would also affect the baby, Harry and her had agreed that she lived somewhere else with a better environment; a place where people wouldn’t chase after her and follow every step she did. Not that they would ever admit it, but Harry had bought an island for his Y/N as a wedding gift before they got married (he even ordered to build a house there), and that’s where she had retreated to for the rest of her pregnancy.  She really loved nature. Lying at the beach whenever she pleased felt so refreshing. Knowing that no one was going to snap pictures of her made her feel at ease. Being out of civilization, far away from negative influence, was very therapeutic for her. She attempted to use less social media, or media in general, only requiring it if she wanted to watch a certain event that Harry attended. Of course, she wasn’t all alone. Her husband would never let her. Instead, Harry had bodyguards around her that kept watching her and made sure she was safe when he wasn’t around. Anne and Gemma also kept her company. Harry, on the other side, couldn’t spend much time with her as he hoped, because of tons of work. He at least tried to leave the weekends unoccupied so that he could be with his wife. When it came to the control checks and appointments, Y/N was flown back to the city, with strict measures taken in order to keep her hidden. Or sometimes, her doctor would pay her a visit.

“This was my first pregnancy, and I wanted it to be a memorable experience. I wanted to be at peace, and vanishing seemed the only solution for me.”

Gemma’s voice behind the camera rang. “Explain why you’ve never been seen at a hospital.”

“Oh yes! I almost forgot about that. I gave birth at home!”

Harry, diverting his attention to the camera lens, added, “And it was truly an amazing experience.”

The day, Y/N delivered her baby, both of their mums, Gemma and a midwife were present. Their fathers were waiting outside the room, because Y/N found it embarrassing to give birth in front of her father, or in front of Des. It was painful and exhausting, robbing all strength in Y/N’s body. Harry couldn’t bear to see his poor wife in pain; he felt completely powerless over the situation, only holding his love, encouraging her and eventually, crying with her. He even blamed himself for putting her through so much ache. But, the moment they heard the shriek they were desperately waiting for, the young man completely broke down. When he held her for the first time, his heart felt so full and complete.  She looked like a copy of him, a baby version of himself. And her eyes… a shade of bluish- green.

“For the last three weeks, Harry and I have argued back and forth whether we make a wise decision,” She explained. “We discussed the advantages and disadvantages, and to be completely honest with you; even though the cons overweighed, we still decided to share out little secret with you before some strangers have the chance to release unpermitted information.”

Now that Y/N returned back from the island to their home, the chances of being discovered with a stroller was high. Besides, they didn’t plan on keeping Olivia in between four walls; they planned nice family trips for the future, so addressing their secret was the best.

Harry added, “We are in constant worry about her. You cannot really expect what people can do with an infant, especially if it’s my child. I hope you can understand that we don’t want anyone, except for family and friends, around her.” His expression became hard, his eyes transforming into an intense shade of green and his voice deeper than ever. “I may be kind, and don’t address certain things, but even I know how to destroy people’s lives, so be warned. If you come any closer to my daughter, I’ll end you.”

His statement startled Y/N. She had never experienced him like this before. Overprotective.  She looked at Gemma, who shared the same emotion as her. Y/N pulled herself together and continued talking. There was another point she aimed to address.

 “Please, don’t expect me to pull out the Kylie Jenner card and release a pregnancy journey video after all of this, because it’s not gonna happen,” Y/N informed, shrugging her shoulders. “Sorry, not sorry guys. The past couple of months have been the most joyous and adventurous period of my life, something very special and intimate, and I don’t want to share it with the world expect for the people involved- our family and friends. That’s why I ask for acceptance and understanding.”

Indeed, Y/N had every moment recorded. Sometimes, she would even send a video to Harry while he was at work, mocking him for how much he was missing out. One day, she had sent him footage in which baby Styles had kicked for the very first time, and it had Harry almost jumping out of his socks. It had been in the middle of a meeting with his band when he had received the message. He had gasped loudly, covering his mouth in shock which had attracted everyone’s attention and having them stare at him confusedly. Harry, on the contrary, had tears pooling his eyes. And being the little show-off he is, he went around and proudly showed everybody what his unborn daughter was capable of doing now- not forgetting the occasional ‘That’s daddy’s girl!’ leaving from his pink lips.

“We don’t want anyone to expect too much from us. We are against the idea of sharing pictures online until she has reached a certain age, and we insist that this should be okay for everyone.”

The baby in Harry’s arms slowly became restless, a cry escaping her throat. Everyone took this as a signal to end the video. “Thank you guys for watching this short announcement video. Take care of yourselves, and please don’t overreact too much, okay? Bye!” Everyone winked at the camera, and the recording was done.

After the video was cut and properly edited, Y/N posted it on her channel. Not a even a minute had passed before it had scored thousands of views. Scrolling through the comment section, Y/N chuckled at the fans’ reactions.

Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr… every social platform was a mess. She received lots of comments on her accounts. Famous artists and influencers reached out to her, congratulating them for the new addition to the family.

It was just as Y/N expected; the world was going crazy…

[thewritingginger]

Fluff Alphabet - Mammon

Thank you Anon fo your request you are actually my first request :3

And I’m really glad you enjoyed the one I did for Beelzebub, I hope that you like this one just as much too. ^_^

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A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

- Loves window shopping with his s/o 

- Many dates have consisted of walks around the mall or different pop up shops 

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

- He admires their wallet their adventurousness, likes that they are willing to go along with his wild/stupid ideas and loves him even if it fails.

- He thinks your heart is the most beautiful thing about you, everyday he wakes up still bit surprised that you had found a spot for him in your heart that will never go away.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

- Doesn’t know what to do when he sees you crying but just defaults to asking you what's wrong and cuddle you till you’re ready to talk abut it.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

- He wants a well paying job so he can afford the things he wants but also so he can support you and your future family.

- Doesn’t want you or his future kid(s) to worry about financial stability.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

- He thinks he’s the dominant one in the relationship. We’ll just leave it at that 😂

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

- Very pouty 

- You kinda have to amp him back up to not be 

- but will forgive even if reluctantly especially if he is in the wrong 

- Might be a bit embarrassed to apologize 

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

- He didn’t realize how much he needs his s/o in his life until there was one fight they had that ended up with his s/o storming out with out saying anything

- He made sure that he showed how much he loves and appreciates his s/o after that

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

-  He’s quicker to share or more so boast about things to you 

- Now the more embarrassing things make him more reluctant 

- And if you confront him about something you'll know the truth cuz he’s not a great lier.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

- His s/o kinda helped him become more honest, his record to stealing/ attempting to steal has decreased (not interlay well cuz ... it mammon we are talking about).

- Made him want to work harder to be the man you deserve.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

- The easiest out the brothers to get jealous

- Be one to wrap his arm around you

- Will be mouthy to the person hitting on or talking to you, but more of a bicker than fighting unless comes to that point

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

- Was questionable at first, during the first kiss b/w he and his partner he when in being confident but his true feelings of anxiety and nervousness poked its head out when he accidentally head butted his s/o coming in for the kiss.

- Once the first kiss was done his usual cocky self returned and denied the head budding ever happened. 

- Is a good kisser 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

- A blushing mess

- Still trying to be cool but just ends up making him more flustered 

- Mammon would try and bring it up in a casual, nonchalant way 

- Just slipping it into conversation while you guys were alone

- “Heh, wouldn’t it be crazy if I loved you?” he scratches behind his neck nervously.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

- Didn't think he would ever get married, “Why would I want to give someone half my money” 

- But that seemed to begin to shift when his love between him and his s/o began to grow and became a bigger part of his life.

- He proposes acting like he's doing you a favor “ Hey, so asking this is gonna seem bit redundant because the answer is pretty obvious but wanna marry me? I mean why wouldn't you, The Mammon is offering to share your life with him.” 

- Even tho he said that, you knew what he was really feeling but was too embarrasses to be ask in a mushy way.

- Marriage w/ mammon is not bad but in the beginning finances and budgeting was a constant discussion but after the first year him and you have figured out a balance you can work with for the most part.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

- Nicknames you have for him: Mam, | Dough boy (dough as in money huh?),| Mr. Money Bags (used to tease him mostly, says he hates it but secretly doesn't), |

- Nicknames he has for you: Babygirl | Babe | My ‘Lucky Charm’ |Goldie 2.0, |

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

- Very tsundere 

- Will say he does stuff for you cause you made a pack with him first and he doesn't trust his other brothers to do it right for you cause he’s “the best at everything.” 

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

- In the beginning he would be a bit shy, playing it off as “well I just don't want to make you guys feel jealous.” and such 

- Once the relationship isn't so fresh he is more relaxed in the act of PDA 

- Not making out on the dance floor kinda relaxed but just Having his arm around you, kissing you a bit in a semi private area.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship. 

- The ability to get into shit but somehow able to make it out of it relatively fine

- IDK I really couldn't think of anything 😅 what do you think?

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

- On a scale from 1-10, Mammon would be clocking in at about a high 3 low 4

- It’s not that he doesn't think to be romantic, it’s just that he doesn't really know what to do (not really his strong suit)

- When. he tries to be suave and romantic he usually will mess up and break something or fall, which in turn will make you laugh 

- When you do he’ll get all blushy and pouty about it but then you kiss him and it is suddenly like it never happened OR like he meant to do that on purpose (we all know he usually doesn't)

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

- Of course he believes in them and they “will defiantly be able to achieve their goals with The Mammon on their side”

- But really, he does support them and tries to help as best he can even tho it doesn’t always turn out right, but his heart is in the right place.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

- Likes to try new things 

- It keeps things interesting

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

- Mammon jokes around a lot and cracks jokes but when it really counts he does try to understand to the best of his ability 

- Sometimes he doesn’t get it but he’ll just try and be there anyways.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

- His s/o really ended up being more important to him than he initially thought would be possible.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

- One time when you and mammon were basking in the afterglow of lovemaking, with your arms wrapped around his torso, his fingers gently playing with your soft locks. Your rhythmic breathing slowly rocking him to sleep, he professes “I wouldn't trade you for all the money in the world! I don't know how a guy like me got you.” Your heart swelled hearing those touching words. Gripping him tighter, you pressing a tender kiss on his chest before drifting off to sleep filled with content.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

- Very affectionate borderline clingy sometimes, loves being tangled up with you in bed talking or watching a movie 

- Never in front of others, especially his brothers so he doesn't get ragged on

- In front of his brothers he just plays it cool, will put his arm around your shoulder, might kiss your cheek or neck

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

- He may not want to admit it but he is a bit needy at times 

- He’ll send them messages “I’m bored, when are you coming back to entertain me?” “How much longer till you’re back?” 

- Any time his brothers or others ask if he misses his s/o he just shrugs it off, but secretly not so hidden secret really misses them and cant wait to envelop them.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

- Before his you Mammon didn't really prioritize relationships, they were just there when he was bored/ needed to be around others that art his bros

- But you, you were different 

- Surprisingly to him you ended up being a person he would give everything for, even his precious Goldie He would cut that bitch in half.

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

Thank you for reading my work, hopefully it was at least a bit enjoyable.

To anyone that is reading this I hope you have an amazing day!

And if you have any suggestions of what I should write next just shoot me a message and ill try my best :3 

  💛 ~

[angelkurenai]

Imagine getting married with Jake in secret and revealing it during an interview with him after lots of hints and teasing from your friend, and costar, Ryan.

“Hello. My name is (Y/n) (Y/l/n) and I'm here to read... your memes. The ones you've made for the movie “Life”. And comment on them.” you started saying looking at the camera before adding with a grin “Shoot this has to be the most weird and awkward intro you'll ever have on this section, I swear. And you chose me to make the first video- oh wow it will be such a success you guys! Just wait for-”

“No, no! Nope, hold up! Just a minute! 'Xcuse me! Excuse me, coming through! Coming. Right. Through. I'm-” you heard the familiar voice of the man you loved more than anyone in the world and no longer than a second later you saw Jake, holding a chair, quickly made his way towards you. Setting it next to yours he sat and smiled right back at the camera before he finally said “Here.”

“J what are you-” you started in surprise “You- you're here to read memes too?”

“Yeah, I mean why not?” he looked at you with an adorable smile “It's gonna be cool! Besides, they're about the movie, aren't they? We could have some fun!” he looked back at the camera but you gave him a funny look.

“You don't even-” you started, blinking rapidly before shaking your head with a laugh “Jakey come on, do you even know what a meme is?”

“It's- Uhm it's- Something that should be-” he started stuttering, his smile fluttering a bit as he looked with the confusion that you were only able to find adorable; he then looked between you and the camera as if asking for help “Something that we... can read. And put on cards, sometimes- you know, big enough like these and- and we-” and then a small noise came from his throat that just made you burst in laughter.

“Ok, ok I'm old and totally clueless. This is not my thing ok? I just-” he shook his head “Bear with me please.”

“Oh Jakey” you couldn't hold back your giggles, especially as he pouted a bit “Alright. Alright, see, you actually didn't do that bad. Technically not all memes can be read, as in not all of them have words, but the ones we have here do. So it was a nice try there! But uhm-” you paused “I'll give you an example. See, you come across memes even without knowing it on a daily basis. But there are some living ones too like-” you paused when you heard someone walk right behind you but pause when they realized they were into the shot “Ryan. Ryan is the perfect example!”

“Oh hey, look at that! This is were you guys are at?” he tucked his phone back in his pocket.

“Yeah, we- we're kinda in the middle of filming to be honest so if you'd-” Jake started and he nodded his head.

“Oh yeah yeah yeah of course, I get it.” he nodded his head with a grin and small casual shrug “Wait, lemme just go grab a chair!”

“No, no Ryan we-” you started but didn't get the chance to complete as he very fast was able to get a hold of one and place it on your other side, he took a seat.

“We- Man, we were kind of hoping this was gonna be a bit more... different.” Jake started, trying to explain a bit awkwardly “It's- We'd prefer if we were left, well, alone. Like, just (Y/n) and I, you- you know?”

“Alone?” Ryan raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-movement “You mean the kind of alone you insisted on having this last night and showed up this morning, three hours later with hickeys or the kind of alone you would have on set and we couldn't find you for, like, two hours and somehow the closet on the set was locked? Or- wait, maybe you mean the kind of alone you had that time when-”

“Alright!” Jake's eyes were wide and he rushed and exclaimed so that he'd cut off Ryan before he could say any more than necessary “Memes. Let's read some memes!” he grabbed a couple boards from you, giving you a look when you couldn't stop laughing and mumbling “Stop it!”

“It's not my fault!” you shrugged innocently, still impossible for you to control your giggling even though you did try for him.

“Well, hey, ain't my fault if I'm perplexed here guys! I mean-” he looked at the camera “Is it suddenly my fault if they tell me they want to be alone and the first thing that comes to my mind is how last time they told me they wanted time alone, the wiped cream we had on set went missing? No!”

And as if you had not been already laughing to death, this was bound to make your stomach hurt “W-well, in my defense-” you looked at Ryan then back at the camera “It's only cause Gyllenhaal has an exquisite taste in-”

“Ok, ok! We're not going to go there. Not gonna happen!” Jake cut you off but you only grinned mischievously.

“Oh don't try to play innocent on me here, Jake. You and I both know the truth and besides-” you glanced at the camera saying “I was only going to say bed. Don't know what-” you turned to look at him “You had in mind, Jake.”

“And why won't you tell us what you were really thinking about, huh Jake?” Ryan only joined in, looking at his friend with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Only for Jake to shake his head and laugh in embarrassment as he looked down. He nearly hid behind the cardboards but you could definitely see the blush creeping up his neck. This was a sight you'd never get tired of.

“Alright, alright.” Ryan raised his hands in surrender “I'll try to keep it as PG rated as possible. But, before we get to the memes, let me ask this one cause I'm curious: how did you mean that alone with all these cameras around? Or maybe you've already tried doing this whole thing before and, for one, shame on you because I wasn't part of it and two-”

“Ryan!” you squeaked out, eyes wide but still you couldn't keep yourself from laughing at your friend's words. He was one of the few people who knew about, not only your relationship, but actually wedding which he had attended too as Jake's best man while Blake was your own maid of honor. It was inevitable after six years of friendship with the woman anyway. You had tried to keep your relationship, engagement and now wedding a secret for very long because you liked your privacy and loved being able to enjoy your relationship tot he fullest – hence why it had lasted so long – and truth was you didn't know if you were entirely ready to speak about it. However, it was still one of the funniest things seeing Ryan teasing your husband about the two of you and now taking advantage of all the photos and with the help of the fans shipping you, he was really putting his A game.

“Hey, I mean I don't know what kind of kinks he has, who knows? Recording and watching afterwards could be it. Or maybe something else- Hey, how about we talk about that huh (Y/n)?” he asked with a grin, resting his chin on his palm as this time you laughed and hid your face behind your hands.

“Someone please get me out of here.” Jake said in a small voice “Or at least make him shut up. Make him stop.” he peaked up from behind the cardboards “Please?”

“Aw but why? We're having so much fun here!” Ryan teased him and despite your giggles, you placed a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

“You have to admit, this wasn't what you thought you'd go through when you signed up for the movie, did you Jake?” you asked with a smirk and he scoffed loudly, eyes big as he gave you a look.

“You think?!” he asked sarcastically before facing the camera “Come join the cast, she said. Ryan's part of the movie, she said. It will be fun, she said!”

“Alright, alright.” you cleared your throat, giving him a soft smile “Let's get to the memes before Jake blushes all shades of red there are out there.”

“I'm not.” he mumbled, looking down afterwards “Alright maybe a bit.” he laughed too, and you frankly couldn't understand how he could hold back for so long and not burst in laughter at what Ryan said “Anyway, I'll go first!”

“Ok” you nodded your head, handing Ryan the cardboards with the memes that were actually meant for him to read and comment on.

“This is- Oh wait, this one is of me. And you, (Y/n). This- it's from an interview I remember. Ok-” Jake nodded his head “So it says 'When you've practically just called her your soulmate and she friendzones you. For the thirteenth year in a row.'Oh wow- this-” a chuckle left his lips as you and Ryan too laughed.

“Look at that face! Just look-” Jake said with a snicker, pointing at the photo “I didn't even know I was making it. I swear!”

“Oh my gosh, look at him!” your and Ryan's laughter doubled when he flipped the card and showed himself with pursed lips, looking down in deep thought and looking equally sad.

“It's like-” Jake spoke “Like I can hear the music playing 'Hello darkness my old friend' right there in the background, you know?”

“That- that should be your next profile picture Jake, just that right there, on instagram!” you said in between your own laughing.

“You know why it's funny? Because it's true! And I haven't even watched the interview but I know it!” he said in between laughing as your husband nodded his head.

“Well, for one, she's been friendzoning me for fourteen years because that's how long we've known each other. And oh yes, it just keeps getting more painful!” he nodded his head sadly you knew as soon as he said the words that the fans were simply not gonna let it slip “And in my defense-” Jake looked back at the camera “This is only my last two brain cells, trying to figure out how I was going to survive my next interview which was with Ryan right afterwards. So of course-”

This one made Ryan laugh even harder “Is it weird that I totally believe that?”

Jake chuckled “Not at all. Because as expected, right after our interview the last two died as well!”

“Now I am not shocked!” you giggled “Alright, Ryan you go next!”

“Ok, let's see-” he looked down and his smile got even bigger “I remember this one, alright: 'When you're stuck thirdwheeling with them... and they end up calling each other “friend”.' and this could never be more true!”

And the second he flipped the card, you and Jake lost it at the look he had on his face in the photo. He was staring straight at the camera with an exception that practically said 'Get me out of here.' while you and Jake were right next to him and laughing.

“Look at that face!” you clasped a hand over your mouth as you laughed “Bytheway are these all about Jake and I, what the heck, I wanna embarrass Ryan too!”

“It's like he wants to shoot himself but he's actually contemplating something about it. Yes, it's- it's between killing us or himself!” Jake pointed out with a grin.

“Truth is, I wanted to kill myself . But on the other hand I was probably like that meme that says- And now kiss! But-” he shrugged “Cameras were rolling and it wasn't part of the script. Not to mention that if I said everything I really wanted to about these two, I wouldn't alive this day to read your memes.”

“True. So true.” you nodded your head “Alright, next up is me. Let's see uhm, ok this is like a collage of Jake and it says 'Get yourself a man that looks at you the way Jake Gyllenhaal looks at (Y/n) (Y/l/n) on the set of 'Life'.' oh dear-” you giggled when he grinned “This is so adorable and by the way, I didn't even notice it until now- it's the same look every single time, what's this Jake?” you looked at him with a smirk and raised eyebrow as he couldn't control his own laughter. You looked so serious it only made his laughing get worse.

“Heart eyes, that's what it is!” Ryan exclaimed and you giggled.

“Alright I'll admit I've seen memes like this before, but this one's golden. To whoever made this, I have an answer for you my friend: I agree. Go get yourself one. Because I did. And he's sitting right next to me and he put a ring on it!” you took hold of his face and gave him a loving kiss, your wedding and engagement ring showing perfectly for everyone to see.

.

..

...

“Alright, I gotta admit-” Jake grinned “That was so smooth!”

“Dude it was smoother than you have ever been with her! Especially when you asked her out for the first time! Watch and learn Gyllenhaal!” Ryan chuckled.

“You know what's worth looking into, next? Ryan's face during this kiss. Go make a meme out of it before... the internet breaks down because of this I guess.” your husband grinned at the camera.

“Meanwhile Jake and I will have our alone time.” you added with a final smirk and wink at him.

[fandom-smut-shots]

Hello! Is it possible that I could have an NSFW alphabet with Finn from Adventure Time? Thank you and I hope you are staying safe during this pandemic!

Thank you for your concern! I hope you’re staying safe as well!

So Adventure Time requests, for future reference, will be written with a sort of modern twist in mind, so they’ll have like cell phones and sex toys and things. 

Oh! And the reader will default to female unless you specify otherwise, because body parts are kind of a crucial detail for sexual encounters.

Also, third time is evidently the charm! I tried to write this twice, with minimal inspiration, but my browser kept crashing and deleting it. I sat down this time and wrote out everything, with longer answers than I had previously! Woo!

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It takes him a little bit to to get a rhythm down, but he’ll soon figure out the gentlest way to clean you up and hold you so that you’re not too sore. If you want, he’ll draw you a bath with bubbles and a bath bomb and climb in behind you to massage your head and back while you relax.

B - Body Part (their favorite body part of yours)

Your fingers. He completely loses his mind to feel your fingers dancing across his chest or feel them tangling in his hair. 

C - Cum (Anything to do with it)

He’s not usually easily embarrassed, but his inexperience causes him to shy away at times, so he tries to make as little mess as possible. He’s very clean after sex, disposing of condoms and towels and anything else that was used as soon as his legs allow him to stand again. 

D - Dirty Secret

He saves every single thirsty text and naughty photo you send to his phone, for private use later on.

E - Experience

You’re his first awww.

F - Favorite Position

Sitting up or laying back while you ride him. Holding your hips so he can thrust in time with you, pressing kisses along your neck while your hands tangle in his hair, gazing into your eyes and watching your face contort when you climax.

G - Goofy (how serious are they in the moment)

Boy’s a goofball, come ON. He’s giggly and uncoordinated and it takes a few tries to align himself with your entrances, but once he’s inside you he’s a whole new Finn and you better hold on.

H - Hair (how groomed are they)

He never really cared about that until you came along, so now he tries to keep himself shaved (or at least trimmed) because nobody wants a noseful of pubes when they’re trying to go down on you. speaking from personal experience

I - Intimacy (how romantic are they)

He tries his hardest to be a romantic. He lights candles and throws petals on the floor and sets a playlist of “mood music” to make you comfortable and content. Sometimes the petals are wilted and the candles burn out and the playlist acquires a stray rap song that disturbs the ambiance but you usually don’t mind.

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

When he’s alone for too long, that’s when his collection of photos and texts come in handy. He prefers to actively text you while he strokes himself, but if you’re busy, he’ll make do with the naked pictures he saves to a locked photo album on his phone.

K - Kink

Bondage. Surprised the hell out of him, too. Tying you down. Being tied down. He loves it either way. Relinquishing control to you was a bigger turn on than he ever anticipated.

L - Location (favorite place to have sex)

Your place. Jake has interrupted one dozen too many times for him to even want to get down and dirty at his house. If he’s gonna love you like you deserve, you’re gonna be secluded the entire time.

M - Motivation (turn ons)

Seeing you in lingerie is an immediate mood changer. Lace especially - cupping your breasts, lining your lower lips, and if you found some crotchless panties, heaven help you.

N - No (What will they absolutely not do)

Any sort of pain play. No knives, blood, whipping. He doesn’t want to risk hurting you.

O - Oral (skills, prefer giving or receiving)

He gets shy about receiving, but he’ll cave if you really want to. And honey he’s a master at giving. Boy’s a people pleaser, so he’ll listen to every single thing you tell him to do to make sure he’s flicking his tongue or sucking your clit just the way you like it.

P - Pace (slow and sensual, fast and rough, etc)

Slow and sensual, usually. He likes to take his time warming you up, stretching you out, making love to you rather than just fucking you.

Q - Quickie (how they stack up against proper sex)

This is where just fucking you comes into play. If you’re busy and don’t have time for the full endeavor, he can work quickly. He’s good with any kind of sex, really, if he gets to be with you. He’ll rip off your panties and fuck you against the wall before you have to go somewhere.

R - Risk (do they like to experiment)

He’s willing to try anything you want to do, but he’s hesitant as everything is new to him and he doesn’t entirely understand ball gags or unconventional positions.

S - Stamina (how long can they last)

Long rounds, but not many of them. He makes your orgasm last for hours, but he can only fuck you a couple of times a day.

T - Toys (do they like/use toys?)

If you want them, you’ve got them. He likes getting you off with his own tongue, fingers, and cock, but if a vibrator or something else will make your orgasm stronger, he’ll give it a shot.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If he’s feeling playful, get ready for edging. He learned that he loves hearing you beg and whimper, and the tighter you’re both wound, the more powerful your climaxes are. 

V - Volume (how loud they are)

He was quiet at first, but the second you told him you wanted to hear him, the whole ass land of Ooo could hear his moans. Boy is loud. And high-pitched. And a little whiny. 

W - Wild Card (random dirty headcanon)

Sports hickeys with pride. He won’t point them out, but if someone happens to notice, he preens like a peacock. “Oh, this? Yeah, my girlfriend did that. Isn’t that great? She’s really hot.”

X - X-ray (what’s in their pants)

Size doesn’t matter, baby - it’s how you use what you’ve got. He’s not partciualrly large or thick, but he can rock his hips like no other.

Y -Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

All day every day. He can distract himself with missions and adventures and whatnot, but if he’s left to his own devices, he’s thinking about you, thinking about fucking you, thinking about sneaking out to your place.

Z - ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep)

At night, he falls asleep pretty fast. Pleasing you is a workout, okay, and he’s a tired boy. If it’s during the day, it pumps him up, and he usually needs a fuck or at least a handjob to go to sleep.

[gold3nberry]

Everything Is Fine

Well, hello, everybody! I’m alive, and I apologize for the hiatus. It wasn’t planned, it just happened. After four years of writing about my adored Demetra and our dashing Commander, life happened. I missed this fandom a great deal, but I needed time to recover (spiritually, let’s stay), rest a bit, and focus on my career. I hope you’re all doing great, and if you want to chat, you know where to find me, now that I’m around again! Hugs!

———————————————————————–

Demetra Trevelyan x Cullen Rutherford NSFW-ish (nothing too explicit).

Ao3 here

———————————————————————–

Demetra sauntered, her shoes dangling lazily in her hand. The grass kissed by the moonlight was pleasantly cold under her bare, sore feet, and the hem of her silk dress rustled gently against the lawn. A smirk escaped her lips at the thought that Vivienne was likely going to kill her. The Inquisitor ruining her dress, walking around barefoot and with her hair half - down wasn’t exactly the picture the mage wanted others to perceive. Demetra sighed heavily. She had been so offended when she first heard Orlesians snicker about the Free Marches nobility. Provincial. Uncouth. Uninteresting. She had been bothered because those words had been repeated enough during every Trevelyan’s reunion. At the time, they were directed to her parents and all their children until Demetra’s mother had had enough and decided to simply skip the unpleasantness entirely. After that, they received the blame because they were shaming Trevelyans in front of all the Marches not sitting at their places during Satinalia’s banquets or weddings or birthdays. As if the Trevelyans really mattered outside Ostwick. As if Ostwick really mattered outside the Free Marches. And she, Demetra Sòphie Trevelyan, the fat and chatty youngest one, was the most worthless of all of them. Her sister was famous for her diplomacy, beauty, and grace. Her two brothers were brave, beautiful, and with a career on their own - at least until Gavin married an elven woman - but Demetra only had her brain. For the main branch of her family, it wasn’t that much to be proud of. Her parents told her to ignore them, but it wasn’t always easy. Now, as the Inquisitor, the Orlesians were doing more or less the same. In their eyes, the Inquisitor Trevelyan lacked too much to be respected. Yet, they still needed her. They knew that she knew they knew, and they despised her behind smiles and masks even more for that. Demetra shook her head. She came to the beautiful garden to get rid of unpleasant thoughts, not to pile up them. With the Maker’s help, tomorrow at sunrise the Inquisition delegation would leave the chateaux and return to Skyhold. 

Maker, she was tired. The exhaustion of chasing Red Templars or killing ferocious giants was nothing compared to the waltz she was forced to dance in Orlais. If she missed her shot, wars could start, and alliances get broken in a blink. Giants at least didn’t force her to smile until her mouth felt blocked. After another evening spent walking and dancing on heels that had no right to be that nice and that painful at the same time, Demetra was eager to put them in her wardrobe for a while. Her shoes were like this last mission: lovely to see, but horribly painful to have around for an extended amount of time. The garden around her was silent, and the estate on the background asleep. The marquess who hosted the Inquisition’s party in her chateaux had made sure they didn’t have a moment of quiet in all the weekend. A courtesy that, the noblewoman had made it pretty clear, she wanted to have repaid with the Inquisitor’s support in the imperial court. If the woman hadn’t signed a contract with the Inquisition providing soldiers, supplies, and a kind word with the rest of Orlesians noble houses, Demetra would have been pleased to tell the Marquess were she could put her demand of support for her little social climbing. Instead, Demetra had spent four days strolling around with the Marquess and her equally vain friends, letting Varric enchanting them with the tales of their adventures, and smiling and nodding until she had felt her head was going to fall in one of the fountains. She yawned quietly, too tired even for sleeping. She walked, unaware that she was a lovely vision, a sort of romantic spirit gracing the night with her presence, or so Varric would have probably told her if he wasn’t drunk asleep in his luxurious suite. 

Nobles were the ones who disconcerted her the most. Despite being herself a noble, her family was so atypical that she wasn’t prepared to challenge a world as nuanced and complicated like the Orlesian ones. Beyond sickening sweet smiles and glares as sharp as knives, they laid at her feet requests for help, for blessings, for an alliance against bandits or other people who had the disgrace to not being in their circle of so-called friendship. None of them seemed willing to consider that Corypheus was gathering his troops, sneaking around in the darkness, ready to bring ruin and desperation upon them all. She suspected that partially this was because the thought of the end of the world glooming over them was too terrifying to deal with. Much better turning the head in the other side, pretending that everything was fine, that Red Templars weren’t ransacking villages or Venatori summoning demons. With all the faith they proclaimed in the Maker and Andraste, they didn’t have that much hope in the Prophetess’ chosen one. They only saw a fat woman, jumped out from nowhere, and she could have understood that. But then they decided that their troubles were more important than anything else, that their pretense was more important than the reality of a world on the brink of extinction, and Demetra couldn’t forgive that.  The Inquisitor walked a bit longer until she arrived at the little lake - a little bigger than a glorified swimming pool -  that the Marquess has shown off to her that very afternoon. Demetra wanted to put her feet in the cold water, but she didn’t expect to find someone else there. ”Demetra!” Cullen called, surprised, but not displeased, it seemed. He chuckled, rubbing his neck “I would have invited you to join me if I had known you didn’t lock yourself somewhere with Leliana and Josephine discussing this visit.” ”Don’t you think I would ask my military advisor to join us?” she replied quietly, not wanting to break the silence around them. He shrugged, smiling gently “I have no purpose here, beyond making sure you’re safe and protected. This is Leliana and Josephine’s territory, after all. Leave me the battlefield. I’m fine with that.” They didn’t spend that much time together, in the past two days, both busy with their tasks, and with Cullen spending a lot of time patrolling around. In her generosity, Josephine had maneuvered to have Demetra and Cullen placed in two close bedrooms, insisting that he was her bodyguard. However, Demetra knew that her Ambassador was planning to use the inevitable gossip to the Inquisition’s advantage. Leliana hadn’t disagreed. It was the worst kept secret in Thedas anyway, she had shrugged, ignoring Cullen’s embarrassment during their last meeting in Skyhold.  ”But leave the furniture alone,” the Spymaster had commanded with a sly smirk. Cullen swam near her, walking slowly when he found the point where he could touch the sand under the water. Despite having to be with him for quite a while, Demetra was always surprised by the intensity of her attraction towards him. She loved the way he laughed - really laughed - when he was amused, the wrinkle between his eyes, the way he frowned when thought that something was silly. She adored the way he hugged her, intense and unrelenting, how much he trusted her, the glint of pride in his eyes after her triumphant return from a mission. They got along together well, so well that sometimes she was scared to lose it, either due to lyrium, war, or he changing his mind. She fought valiantly towards these thoughts, knowing that they both wanted to be together and that the love they found was something worthy of fighting for, but sometimes she didn’t believe she had been so lucky to find him. When she had finally shared these thoughts with him, her surprise had been enormous hearing his admission that he thought he was the lucky one in their relationship.  Cullens’ voice was gentle as always “What are you thinking?” “That my feet are sore and that I love you very much.” He blushed delighted. It was enchanting, really. Since their first time, they had been intimate uncountable times - and in many, many different locations than his or her bed. Yet, he, the man who once took his Inquisitor against a wall and that woke her up with his mouth between her thighs more than once, still blushed every time she voiced her feelings.  “Come here, love,” he murmured, his honeyed eyes soft and his words darkly alluring. Any other time, she would protest that she wasn’t going to undress where anyone could surprise her, but this time was different. She wanted to feel him, skin against skin, having his lips pressed on the top of her head, and his arms sheltering her from the outer world for a while. Demetra needed him, and Cullen knew it. And he was waiting for her. He would always have. The thought alone made her heart pump faster and full of joy. She let her shoes fell on the grass with a gentle thud, and quietly blessed the simple corset of her ballgown. Letting the precious embroidered silk falling in the grass, she shredded her undergarments as well. Cullen was staring at her, the water gently skimming around his trim waist. He was looking at her with equal love and desire, and when he motioned her to enter in the water, she didn’t hesitate any longer. She had always thought nobody would appreciate her body outside herself. She was glad the Maker had proved her to be wrong.  “You’re beautiful,” Cullen murmured, holding her against his chest. Demetra chuckled. She hardly thought she was beautiful. Pretty, maybe. Tonight, she was wearing heavy makeup and all the beauty that money could buy thanks to expensive clothes and jewels in her hairstyle, but she wasn’t going to fool herself. Cullen sighed, “I’m sorry I’m not better with words.” She winced, looking at him, wanting to tell him that it wasn’t his fault if Orlais had left her overtired and sad. It was a place that always made her feel as if she was the youngest lady Trevelyan, back at Ostwick. All the love of her parents and siblings hadn’t been able to shelter her from disapproval and mockery. Ostwick had been hard, but in Orlais, it was even worse because she had felt alone. However, Demetra was aware that it was just her tired mind suggesting those considerations. She wasn’t alone for real. Tiptoeing, Demetra pressed her lips against his “I believe your sincerity, Cullen. I’m just… I don’t know? Overwhelmed?” “Orlais,” he nodded, kissing her nose, her cheeks, and her lips, making her laugh. He took his time, lingering against her skin, pressing and curling over her. Demetra sighed, relaxing in his embrace. It was a lovely moment. The water murmuring around them, the magnificent starred sky, the warmth of Cullen’s body. She could endure Orlais’ unpleasantness if it led to moments like this. They swam for a while, giggling like children when he playfully splashed her, and she returned him the favor.  The water was pleasantly cold, but when Cullen realized that Demetra was shivering, he wrapped her in his arms. Weightless and content, she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I would like to give you a real holiday,” he murmured, rocking gently. She chuckled, pressing a kiss on his chest, right where his heart was beating, and an angry scar marked his skin “Save the intention for after I defeat Corypheus.” He nodded. She was grateful he didn’t voice his terror at the idea of her facing that monster again, but she noted how he held her tighter than a moment before. “Where would you bring me?” she asked, pushing away a wet curl from his forehead. Cullen’s answer was quick, “The South Reach if you don’t have other suggestions.” She looked at him, surprised, and he smiled, hesitant “I know it’s not a popular place, but I thought… after everything is over, if you want, that’s it, I would like to present you to my siblings. If they’re willing to speak to me, I mean.” “According to the letters Mia sends you, they’re more than willing.” “I haven’t been fair towards them,” he warned her, stiffening slightly under her touch, “I thought the money I sent while in Kirkwall was enough. That cutting out everything that could remind me… the Circle, and all that was before was the only way to survive.” “Look at me, Cullen.” He was ashamed by himself, and his torment was evident.  “Cullen, I would be glad to come with you and visit your family. It would be an honor, actually. You own them an explanation, that’s true, but I think they got an idea about what happened. Maybe not the full extent, but I’m pretty sure they know, and they understand, love.” He was still unsure, still frightened facing the idea of having failed his own family. Demetra loved his sense of duty, but hate it when it blinded him towards the possibility that mistakes could be forgiven, if not repaired. He was harsh towards himself, harsher than anyone Demetra had ever known.  “Come,” she said, pulling him gently “let’s go to bed. It’s late, and tomorrow I want us all to leave as soon as possible.” They dressed slowly, Cullen peppering her skin with a kiss here and there. She adored the intimacy of having him buttoning her dress and murmuring compliments. “You’re going to sleep with me tonight,” she declared quietly, while they walked hand in hand towards the house. He smiled, “I missed you.” She kissed his jaw and let him wrap her shoulders with his arm, echoing the sentiment. Dechoing the sentiment. During a mission, they didn’t usually have a lot of time to be together. It wasn’t only about sex. They both missed sharing the goodnight kiss and greeting each other in the morning. Or having a moment to joke about something funny happened that day. Or reading before sleeping, her nested against him, his hands absently playing with her long braid. When Cullen slipped with her under the blankets, she hugged him from behind, kissing his nape. Cullen grabbed her hands and murmured a tired “Goodnight,” adhering against her body with a satisfied sigh. For once, he fell asleep sooner than her. Demetra stayed awake, listening to his regular breath. A moment before falling asleep, she smiled and snuggled closer to him. Everything was fine.

—- As always, let me know what you think of this tiny thing!

[arthurmorganthings]

Surgeon and the Scientist.

Pairing: Javier x Painter!Femreader

Summary: “But don't trust the surgeon with your heart, She's drunk and sips from poison cups, and don't you trust the scientist, He says "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink like secrets all across your dress.”

Explicit Content: +18

Hands stained with tertiary colors and the soft bristles of your brush, you practiced realism with the help of Flat Iron Lake, Clemens Point offered you peace when you weren’t off doing chores for Miss Grimmshaw. Your tent filled with journals of rough sketches with studies you’d find upon each travel. The study of outlaws napping aimlessly in saloons, working girls reeling in potential clients—your favorite person of interest to draw was him.

Javier Escuella. His soft features enthralled you, when he played his guitar with such passion, beckoned you. Though you’d been riding with the Van Der Linde boys for quite some time, you hadn’t said much to him. Occasional hellos, and small talk perhaps—but a full fledged conversation? Never sparked. You craved interaction so bad, you started to think perhaps you weren’t his type after all.

You knew the type of man he was, the men he surrounds himself with. There were times he wouldn’t come back until the crack of dawn—Javier laid with women. Charming them with his native tongue, into the soft sheets he’d lay his head on.

Jealousy found you quickly, gripping the brush tightly as you paint the undertones of the sky. Perhaps it was a silly dream of yours, but someday you’d be a world renowned painter, with suitors from every continent feigning to see your beautiful art.

A girl could dream. But until that time, you’d continue to paint until your hands grow brittle, and weak. You sensed a body hover behind you, “What chu’ paintin’ there?”

Oh. It was Arthur. You pivot with your back foot as your hand still gripped at your brush, your easel wobbles. “Hello. Nothing too important, just figured I had some free time, so here I am.”

He chuckles, rubbing freshly trimmed beard. “You kiddin’ me? It’s beautiful—err, it’s like a picture.”

He always had such a way with words, or none at all. His quirkiness was apart of his cowboy charm. You laugh wholeheartedly. “Thanks. I suppose.”

“You got time to spare?”

You blink. “I mean I-“

“Have a drink with me.”

His forwardness came as a surprise, one drink wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

“I should put my easel away then.” You respond softly but Arthur beats you to it. Kentucky Burbon in his hand, you assume is from his Satchel. Handing it to you, you hesitantly take the liquor. The sharp smell of whiskey in filled your nostrils as you winced before taking a swig.

The taste was—well, repulsive to say the least as you return Arthur his bottle. “I can never get used to Burbon.”

He laughs, before taking his swig. “You and I both.”

You continue talk of the old days, when the gang was set on helping folk and less on the idyllic greed for money—it seems when Micah joined, was when the root of all the gang’s problems arised.

Two shots of bourbon became three, then four, then the whole bottle.

Throughout the day, you and Arthur tell tales of drunken banter such as today. It was wholesome. He’s like a big brother figure, you wished to spend quality time with but knew his role within the gang.

Arthur was their support, Hosea was the anchor.

Nightfall crept as the two of you sat near the campfire, the fire cackles as you hug your knees—thoughts of him flooding your mind. Javier had yet to return from his Homestead job with Sean, unless he was pent up in some hotel inside of a whore, they’d camped out somewhere—your cheeks flush at the thought of him doing things unimaginable.

Arthur senses your unease. “You okay kid?”

Your head perks up, staring into his. “It’s nothing.” Your words slur, dejectedly. “I’m just conflicte—Javie—shit, Arthur.”

He sees what’s going on now. “You like ‘im.” He states.

You wanted to slap yourself for setting yourself up for inevitable teasing, but you frown instead. “He doesn’t like me. I’m plain-looking, Javier likes exotic women, and I—well, I’m, me.”

Tears on the brim of coming out as Arthur sighs, “You must be a fool to sell yourself short. Javier is an even bigger fool.”

Before you can argue with him, the faint sounds of horseshoes grazing the mulch of the woods could be heard. Lenny, who was on watch calls, “Took y’all long enough to get back.” It was him.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as Javier hitched his horse. Arthur pats your shoulder reassuringly, “Remember what was said.” As he shuffles to his tent. Javier writes his name in the ledger before placing the undisclosed amount in he camp’s donation box. You felt like a lamb, watching as its prey nears closer.

Removing his clunky boots, Javier grabs his guitar from his tent before shuffling towards the campfire. He was surprised to still see you up, as most of the gang was either asleep or in town. You placed your chin onto your knees as your arms hugged the shins. Javier sits himself next you with his guitar.

A tense beat of silence ensued, almost awkward, but Javier had the first say, “You’re never up this late.”

“You aren’t ever at camp to begin with.” Thank god for the alcohol to enable your bold behavior. You would have never said something like this if you were in a sober state of mind. Javier sniggers, tuning his guitar. You took the time to observe how his fine fingers caress his guitar so smoothly. God, If only he’d do the same to you.

“Yeah well, duty calls my love.”

My love.

You suddenly felt a warm pool at your core. Javier was a man of many skills so it would seem. He strummed beautifully, the tunes releasing from his acoustic. He paused, glancing at you, causing you to look away smoothly before he could notice.

“How’s your painting coming along?” He inquired.

“It’s coming along well,” you respond sheeplishly. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow, shaking his head. “I observed everything. “The drawings, how you stick your tongue out when you’re focused on the details of your paintings, how you look at me.” Your thighs squeezed together from underneath your skirt, Javier was no fool to know what he does to her.

He could never be with her, she was too good for him. But he’ll make her feel things she’s never felt before. Closing the distance from where he sat, wrapping his arm around you, Javier says,“I know that you’re mad at the man that I am, the life I lead.”

“I never said I was Javier. It’s just—I feel like a ghost to you, but I’m no fool to know that you sleep with women. And for the longest time ever, I asked myself—why couldn’t I be the one you have your way with?”

The alcohol was definitely taking its toll, what a story will this be in the morning. Javier’s expression was masked underneath his hat, but responds nontheless.

“Because I respect you too much to.”

You blinked, perplexed. “Javier, sleeping with said person shouldn’t equate the amount of respect you give someone. Dutch has his fair share of women but you hold him to such a high level.

“You shouldn’t speak on things you don’t know girl, it’s incessant.” He mumbles, throwing mini twigs he toyed with on the ground, into the fire.

“But I know, Javier.” You pause. “I know your type, I know you. Even if I’m invisible sometimes.”

You weren’t going to wait for his response, you simply removed yourself from his grasp, shuffling to your tent, near the lake. You opted for more privacy. It was larger than most, filled with old pieces and sketches scattered across the floor. Suddenly the flaps of your tent opened, causing your head to perk near the entrance. It was hard to see during the night but knew who it was.

Closing the flaps, Javier grabbed you by the neck softly. “You think you’re invisible to me?” He questions, his voice not the same from the fire, it was husky and deep. The callouses toying up and down your arm now filled with goosebumps.

“You would rather want me to fuck you like a whore instead? On your back like some working girl?”

Your innocent eyes widened at his crass language, the shift of character only turned you on more when his chest was against yours. Javier was short, but you was shorter by a few inches. His lips found the shell of your lobe.

“Come on. I want you to say it.”

“I, want you.”

He tightens his grip, illiciting a moan. You knew what he wanted you to say. Your soft fingers pressing at his hand. “I want you, to fuck me, like a whore.”

He chuckles. “On your knees then.”

You place yourself in front of him, knees kissing the ground you walked on as he unzips the seams. Your face flushed once graced with Javier’s girth—larger than you’d expect.

It’d be foolish to say he wasn’t a man that was well-endowed. His unconscious incompetence at times was rather amusing when observing him around camp. But when it came to laying with a man you’d yearned for.

This was completely different.

“Come on girl. His hand gripped at your cheeks, as he forced you to look up at him from your compromising position. “We don’t have all night.”

You waste no time taking his length into your mouth while staring up at him doe-eyed. The taste of precum ensued. Watching him groan before you brought a warmness to your stomach before staining your bloomers with an embarrassing amount of essence sure to show once they were removed. Nothing at this point in time mattered as you took him in some more. His pelvis thrusted forward as he gripped your locks of hair, forcing his cock down your throat—the movements followed continuously as you gagged.

Your eyes watered, saliva stained the sides of your cheek as he removed himself from your mouth to avoid from cumming. Javier did not want to miss his chance of getting to be inside of you. He growled, “Take these off.”

You followed suit, removing your plain blouse and skirt, followed by your chemise and bloomers. He pushes your onto the cart, on all fours. His thumb grazing your wet cunt with content upon touch.

You gasp, pulling at your lips softly as he rubs in circles.

“I’m gonna need you to keep quiet, princess.”

Your heart fluttered at the pet name as you nod, taking that as a confirmation. Once lined at your cunt, Javier sucks in a breath, the tightness of her walls would make any man groan in pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”

You grip at the edge of the cot tightly, biting your lip, you wiggle your way further into his cock. He watches as it disappears and reappear again—it takes a lot out of him not to grab at your hips and fuck you. The squelching sound of your wet heap wasn’t making it any better either. It was embarrassingly loud it wouldn’t be a surprise if anyone from camp could hear the sounds of coitus.

Covering your mouth with your hands as Javier speeds up his pace by grinding his hips agains your back side, it grew difficult to stay quiet. How, when you wanted to let the world know the man of your dreams was fucking you with raw, unadulterated passion? The tiny squeals, and pants could only be heard by said lover as he lets out ragged breaths.

He whispered in your ear, “How bad do you want to cum?”

So goddamn bad. The precipice was near as you knit your brows together and nod in your mouth. Fearing the sounds that could come out of you removed them. He thrusts harder, his grunts increasing in volume while he pistons into your cunt—your face flushed, squealing into your palms while your body seeps into the cot.

“I said, how bad do you want to come?”

He wanted you to answer, in such a compromising position like this. You remove your hands briefly before replying, “So bad.” Your voice higher than last time as he grunts.

“Where do you want it?”

God if he was making her choose, she’d easily say inside. Despite what that may cause in the inevitable future.

“Anywhere, haaa.” She moans loudly, abosoloutly careless of her shameless inhibitions. Javier clasps his fingers across her mouth, digging at the cheeks—sighs of his own orgasm ensuing. His thrusts grew slopper, his jaw tightened with ragged breaths. Your walls convulsed before seeing white.

Eyes fluttering closed, mouth in a silent gasp as Javier’s seed fills your womb. You fall limp onto your cot before the overstimulating feeling of Javier remove himself from inside of you before adjusting himself back in his pantsuit.

A beat of silence followed, the only sound heard was the ragged breaths of both lovers. Feeling of realization hits you.

“Shit.” You curse. “I forgot, my canvas by the board walk. My paints are probably all dried out by now.”

“I’ll go get it for you. You get some rest.” Javier replies as he leaves for your tent. You call out to him before he does, causing him to turn around.

“Can we do this again?”

He smirks before pondering. “You know, my mom once said, don't trust the surgeon with your heart, She's drunk and sips from poison cups. And don't you trust the scientist, He says "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink like secrets all across your dress.”

You furrow your eyebrow, “The Surgeon? Javier what does this even m—“

“In due time, you’ll know.”

Upon his exit from the Tent, you lay back down onto your cot with a quilt covering your indecency, the line still engrained in your heart.

The surgeon, and the Scientist.

-

BTW THE SURGEON AND THE SCIENTIST IS MY FAVORITE LA DISPUTE SONG <3 FOR @famderlinde @jungle @mollyohshea 💗

[cchellacat]

Dinner and A Movie

Love All The Marvel Ships Challenge 

Day Three ~ Watching A Movie

Darcy Lewis had a secret.  An embarrassing, mortifying secret that she would admit to no one, ever.  Ever since the eighth grade she had had the hugest, most ridiculous crush on James Buchanan Barnes.

There had been love hearts and flowers doodled in her text books next to his picture and she had even managed to get her hands on an original Bucky Bear, which, to this day, still slept in her bed with her.

When the news had broken that her girlhood crush, was in fact, still alive and well and looking just as fine as he did in 1945, it was like dream come true.  She had followed every news article avidly as the whole story unfolded and her heart broke for him.

The whole thing brought back her crush in full force.  Then, barley a year after she and Jane had moved into the Tower to work for Stark, James Barnes, Bucky, had come back to the USA.  All the legal troubles had been cleared up, he’d been exonerated for his action while in Hydra’s control and Tony Stark, even if still a little bitter about the whole Steve lied to him thing, had given them a floor in the Tower while the Avengers got their shit back together.

The last eighteen months had been torture.  She couldn’t ignore the guy after all, but it was increasingly difficult to be around him.  Her crush just got bigger and bigger.  Like Steve, he was always unfailingly polite, but he was also a smooth son of bitch that flirted like other people breathed.  Not for a second did she ever take him seriously when he flirted with her, that way lay madness.  So, she endured and tried not to look like she was avoiding him, while she avoided him.

The down side was, that with him constantly in her head, the thought of dating anyone was pointless, so she’s had a pretty long dry spell.   All she’s done for months is work.  She’d not stepped outside the Tower for anything other than grocery shopping or science conventions in over a year and she was bored and dying from the isolation.  She had to start getting herself out there again.  She couldn’t wait around to get over this silly crush, she had to go out and meet people.  Preferably no one that worked for Stark, because that would be all kinds of terrible when it didn’t work out. She needed a wing woman and a night out dancing.

It had taken a week to convince Jane to take a night off from work and just relax and Darcy had been adamant that they needed to get outside for bit.  Darcy should have known that nothing could possible be so straight forward.

First there had been a Tower wide lock-down which meant all residents had to have their bio-metrics re processed.  Then one of the interns had broken one of Jane’s deep space telescopes, and then, when Jane had finally finished re-calibrating it, once the new pieces had been installed, the data it had started running off sent her into science spree.

“I’m sorry, Darcy, really, but I just can’t wait, I have to start working through this right now, there are numbers here that just don’t make sense, we could be on the verge of a huge discovery.”

So here she was, all dressed up and no where to go.  But fuck that, if Jane wouldn’t go out with her, well, there was no reason she couldn’t go by herself.

Except…  except.  She really didn’t want to go sit in a bar on her own… ugh.  Why couldn’t she just catch a break?

“Hey Doll, why so glum?”

Darcy looked up to find Bucky Barnes, aka, The Winter Hottie, frowning down at her, from where she was slumped on the couch.

Just what she needed, the guy she crushed on looking at her with pity when she explained how pathetic her life was.  Would there be no end to this torture?

“I’m fine.”  She muttered grabbing her bag and standing.  There was no point being here when she could be curled up on the couch in her own apartment with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and a bottle of wine.

“Hey, don’t be like that, come on, tell me what’s going on.”

The worst part is he really sounds like he cares, and she knows it’s unfair, but it just makes her feel worse.  There’s no way a guy like him would ever be interested in her.  She wasn’t a super cool ninja assassin like Natasha or smart like Jane or a CEO power goddess like Pepper Potts, she was just Darcy.  Short and what could generously be called curvy, with a gap in her teeth and frizzy hair that never stayed where she put it no matter how much time she spent with product and a straightener.  The truth was, spending time around him was almost painful, she wanted to hug him and run her fingers through his hair and…..  yeah, she was getting away from herself again.  She sighed, there was no point being rude, she’d tell him the truth and accept the pity and obligatory pep talk and be on her way.

“Jane stood me up, we were meant to get dinner and maybe go clubbing for a bit, but she went all science on me and now I’m a lame single on date night with out even my platonic go-to girl.”

“I’m real sorry to hear that, Doll.  Pretty girl like you shouldn’t ever be stood up.”

His eyes crinkle when he smiles at her and her thighs clench, she’s pretty sure every panty in a ten-mile radius just dropped.

“Thanks, Barnes, be sure to tell Jane that if you see her before I do.  I’m just gonna go home and wallow in my misery.”

She gave him a crooked smile and made her way out of the room, aware of his eyes following her till she stepped into the lift.

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

Bucky watched her go, shoulders slumped and defeated.  A pretty dame like Darcy shouldn’t be alone on a Saturday night, she outta be out having fun and kicking her heels up.  Hell, if he thought she was interested he would have asked her out months ago, but she never responded when he flirted with her.  Didn’t eye him up the way the other women in the Tower did, didn’t bat her eyes or smile coyly.  She was always sweet and kind and would go outta her way to help if she could, but she was just being nice.  He sighed in frustration.  

Being free to get back to some semblance of life had been a relief but actually settling into the fast-paced modern world was a little more complicated than it looked.  Things were different.  People were different.  Sometimes it seemed like he’d landed on some alien planet.

Truth was, the only person other than Steve that made sense to him was her.  She was exactly his type of girl, with her soft curves and pouty lips and the dark chocolate curls that seemed to have a mind of their own, just like she did, she was everything he dreamed about.  She had a mouth on her when she was in temper, stood up for herself and didn’t take shit form no one. But he had no idea how to approach her when she never seemed to let her guard down around him.  He figured she was nervous around him at first because of his part, then over time when she still didn’t relax completely and still didn’t respond to any of his pick up lines he’d come to the conclusion that he just wasn’t her type.  But that didn’t mean he had to let her be miserable on a Saturday night.  He could still be a friend.  He wasn’t exactly comfortable in large crowds these days, but maybe she’d still like to get dinner, maybe see a movie after.

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

Darcy had barley got through her front door when there was a knock on it.  Who the hell could it be?  Opening the door to find Barnes on the other side was the last thing she was expecting.

“Hey…. Ummm… did you need something?”  she asked feeling confused, her head tipping to one side as she looked up at him.

“Yeah… uhh.  Look, I know you’re not interested in me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be your friend Doll. The reservations for your dinner still good?  Figured if you want some company, I’d be happy to go with you.  Can’t really go clubbing, but we could catch a movie maybe?”

Darcy blinked….   She knew her jaw was on the floor and snapped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth, but the apparition in front of her was still there.  Had she fallen asleep somewhere and was dreaming this?  Had Jane made the lab explode and she was now in a coma, a very nice coma, where handsome super soldiers asked her out on not dates because she wasn’t interested? What planet was he living on?  Not interested?  Wait a minute…

“You like me?”

Bucky frowned at the disbelief in her voice.

“Well I wasn’t exactly subtle about Doll, I’ve been flirting with you for months.”

“You flirt with everyone….”

“No I don’t…”

“Yes, you do, Jessica in accounting was practically in your lap in the cafeteria last week.”

“I wasn’t flirting with her, she stopped to ask me the time.”

“Well, Tracy from acquisitions was feeling up your arm last month in the stairwell and you had your arms around her.”

“She nearly fell down the damn stairs in those stupid heels she wears, I caught her before she broke her neck.”

“But…..  you like me?”  she asked, quieter now, trying to work out if he meant it.

“Doll, you drive me outta my damn mind.  You have to know you’re the prettiest dame in the state of New York.  But you’re kind too, and funny and the way you smile makes me crazy.”

Darcy bit her lip hard to keep from grinning as her cheeks flushed red.

“So…. If I was interested… would this be a date?”

The smile he gave her was blinding and she couldn’t help but return it.

“Dinner and movie sure does sound like a date sweetheart.”

“I’ll get my coat.”

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

“Then what happened?”  Jane asks her demandingly.

“We went to dinner, had a blast and then we watched a movie together.”

“What movie?”

Darcy shrugs a little helplessly.

“I can’t remember.”  She hisses.

Jane gives her a knowing look.

“Was the movie any good?”  Jane tries again as Darcy feels her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“It was great.”  Darcy crosses her arms defensively, then relents. “We had a great time not watching it together.”  Jane squeals in glee and giggles.

“Did he do the thing?”

“What thi….  Oh, the thing!”  Darcy smiles wildly and sighs with a mock swoon.  “He was so smooth, full ten points for style and execution.  The yawn and stretch in all it’s traditional perfection.   But then I’m pretty sure he probably invented the move in the first place. He did it so well it wasn’t even cheesy.”   In Darcy’s defence she had tried to roll her eyes when he’d pulled it off, but the wink and grin he gave her was so hot she had just went with it and snuggled in.

“So, are you seeing him again?”

“Yup, we’re going to have dinner tonight in my apartment and watch some Netflix.”

“Watch?”

“Shut up.”

Jane shakes her head in amusement, her eyes bright as Darcy potters off to her office.

When Steve had cornered her last week and told him about Bucky and his unrequited crush on Darcy she had been lost for words.  Between the two of them they had plotted out the whole thing.  Steve got the tower into lock-down so Bucky couldn’t go for his usual walk about.  They had had movie posters in every advertising space in the building and she had paid Leona to break the telescope just in time to pull off her rather complicated science emergency.  Getting Darcy to meet her in the common room before breaking the news to her had been timed down to the second so that Steve could make sure Barnes walked in at just the right moment.  Neither of them would have appreciated her or Steve meddling so it had been more complicated than it had to be.

“Not bad Foster.”  Jane nearly jumps out of her skin as Natasha appears beside her.

“I liked the touch with the dinner reservations, the table was in the best position to offer Barnes a comfortable line of sight.”

“They can never know.”   Jane says seriously.

“Know what?”  Natasha shrugs as she leaves, a tiny smirk at the corner of her mouth.  It was good when a plan came together.

NEXT

@captain-rogers-beard

[satire-please]

Play is the Work of the Childhood

Summary: I once saw a fanart of Hua Cheng snuggling a kid Xie Lian. Therefore this fic was spawn.

Perhaps Xie Lian should have seen this coming.

After all, in his 800-year experience, what goes around, comes around. What misfortune you see and witness will eventually happen to you.

Life enjoys being fair in that aspect.

Still, he didn't expect to be in this position as a wave of green smoke bellows from the mouth of the monster he and Hua Cheng just fought, just slain, it rushing at him and encasing him in a smoggy fist.

For the vile creature's last attack, it shakes Xie Lian like a child throwing a tantrum before throwing him across the cave.

He smacks into the stone wall, the pain makes him gasp...and the smoke rushes into his mouth.

It burns.

His lungs, his head, his bones twisting, his skin shrinking.

"Dianxia!" Xie Lian hurts, his brain rattling in his skull but he can still hear the desperate panic in Hua Cheng's voice, the ring of steel clashing in the background. "Are you alright? Answer me!"

Xie Lian coughs a few times. His ears ringing, he collapses down the rock face disoriented and forces his eyes to open. Hua Cheng's form is blurry but he can tell the man is sprinting towards him. "I'm fine–"

"Your voice! What's happened to you?" What was wrong with his voice? Well, it does sound different. The tone is off. Higher, younger.

Oh no.

It couldn't be.

Xie Lian puts a hand to his throat and rubs it. He tries to prioritize. "It was just the monster's deathblow, a curse I think–"

Hua Cheng swears loudly.

"–But I'll recover, will you destroy the body? Its remains could still harm any that come across it. It would be unfortunate if the villagers still had trouble after they worked so hard to get us for help."

"Yes. It won't ever bother them or Dianxia ever again," Hua Cheng declares vindictively. "Where are you? I can't see you, the smoke refuses to clear."

"Here. Over here." Xie Lian calls. He tries to get up, but his legs catch in sometimes, he looks down to see what's the matter and finds entire lower body trapped in his robes. They tangle over his limbs oversized...why are they so big?

He knows why. Yet please allow him to deny it a little longer. The clues of his voice, his clothes and the small hand he brings to his face are obvious and sooner or later he must accept reality.

He's been changed.

The curse turned him younger...much, much younger.

"There you are! Let me take a look at you, we'll figure out the contents of the curse and break it to–" A red tunic fills the corner his vision and Xie turns toward it.

But his friend, no his companion, freezes in place.

The man is not even breathing. True neither of them need to breathe but Hua Cheng has always been very courteous to do so in the past, so it’s alarming for Xie Lian to see him stop. The demon king is a statue harder than any stone.

“San Lang?” Xie Lian attempts to free an arm from his tangled nest of fabric, but the large sleeve flops over his wrist. Hua Cheng is so tall. Then again everything is so much bigger from this point of view. “What's wrong? Did the creature hurt you too?”

Hua Cheng moves fast.

One moment he’s a few feet away, the next he’s crouched in front of Xie Lian, hands cupping his cheeks to verify that this image is no illusion. Xie Lian notes the coolness of that skin and how those fingers reach the back of his skull easily.

He blushes and glances to the side. Hua Cheng’s hands are one of his favorite things about his man.

“I am blessed.” Is the first thing the demon king says in a minute. His one eye drinking in every change to Xie Lian’s form, his head cocked to the side. “Huh. I never knew I wanted this.”

“Wanted what?” Xie tilts his face or tries to. In Hua Cheng’s tender hold the action has him leaning into his palm.

Hua Cheng makes a trapped sound at the back of his throat. "You're so little."

Xie Lian should take offense, but honestly, he is...little. He had always been a terribly small child once upon a time, or he supposes in the current present. He attempts to calculate his age based on appearances. He'd barely come up to Hua Cheng's hip, his arms are chubby, oh dear, he must be around five or six and his–

"Your hair is so short. Is this how you felt when I was transformed against my will?" Hua Cheng muses, fingers twisting in the dark locks that fall right below his chin. "I have every inclination to lock you up and do all that I must to protect you. You're beyond precious."

“Ah. Now I understand why you were so embarrassed. This is humiliating." Xie Lian murmurs in reply. Xie Lian view’s blocked by a curtain of black hair and there’s a cold press of lips on his forehead. “San Lang!”

“Sorry.” But then he feels the same sensation on his temple. “Excuse me.”

Xie Lian’s cheeks are not left alone. A pepper of kisses rain down on his nose and his eyelids and Xie Lian is going to die if his face gets any redder.

“S-Stop!”

“Must I? Very well.” Hua Cheng finally leans back on his heels, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. However, he keeps Xie Lian trapped in his embrace, especially as he stands up. Xie Lian’s tiny hands scramble for broad shoulders as he’s basically manipulated to sit on one arm, the other moving around his back protectively. “I apologize, I truly can't help myself, Gege. You are honestly the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

"You were just as cute. No, cuter!" Xie Lian pouts.

"I doubt it."

"You were!" He insists. Xie Lian watches Hua Cheng reach into his red coat for the dice. He tosses them up absentmindedly before the portal opens to the Paradise Manor.

“Nonsense, most considered me to be a vile and ugly child. They called me a feral cat.”

“I didn’t’!”

Hua Cheng smiled. “This is true. Only you.” And he kisses Xie Lian on the cheek again to end the argument.

The hallways echo with the sound of Hua Cheng's heavy boots before they enter the bedchambers, the closet.

It's larger than four Puji Shrines put together and a whimper leaves Xie Lian before he can stop it.

“Now let’s see what we can do about your clothes.” Good cheer has never been so menacing.

During the length of an incense stick or two Xie Lian is tortured with good taste. The large robes replaced with a barrage of outfits Hua Cheng fishes out of the abyss of the wardrobe.

It takes a while before Hua Cheng plants the new child in front of a mirror to work on the final details. The demon king is pleased to find that even a scowl on the younger face is adorable

“Is this really necessary?”

“Now, Dianxia it’s only fair and just. I recall when I was forced into child form, I couldn’t leave your arms for at least a day. You kept carrying me around and playing with my hair.”

It was soft. Who could blame the martial god?

"You were a treasure,” Xie Lian mutters.

“Yes, and now you’re mine. So enough objections and stay still enough to let me put this on.”

Well, Xie Lian can’t stop Hua Cheng from doing anything, not really, therefore he sighs and keeps his arms up as Hua Cheng fixes his sleeves. “I meant the clothes. This is a lot of work for a temporary situation. Where did you even get these?"

"Secret."

Xie Lian wrinkles his nose. The reflection shows the spitting image of his five-year-old self. In fact, he believes these are the exact same hair ornaments his own mother placed into his hair so long ago. A bright golden dragon with ruby eyes, glaring at all, perches on his head to keep his hair half up and out of his face.

All so Hua Cheng can cup, squeeze and poke his cheeks better.

Which he demonstrates.

Quite often.

It’s as if there’s a time limit to how long those fingers can stay away. Thirty seconds or less.

The mirror reveals a victim draped in layers of the finest silk, pictures of flowers and fighting scenes race across the fabric in dark heavy thread. His feet have matching slippers with twinkling small bells to give away his location immediately. He hates them. He shifts minutely and they ring. They sing. It’s been a long time since he’s been decked in such ridiculous finery.

Hua Cheng loves it.

“So this is how you were as a child.” Hua Cheng coos. Dressing him has taken over an hour, yet much to Xie Lian’s dismay instead of complaining, he seemed to relish picking out every single detail from what sash goes best, the golden one of course, to the bracelets and rings that cover Xie Lian’s fingers. He hums happily, “How did they ever let you out of the palace?”

“They didn’t.” Xie Lian was only allowed to start making public appearances at thirteen. And then only by his father’s side or securely placed in his mother’s lap. Just like how he's in Hua Cheng's now with a tug on the back of his robe so he falls right perfectly into the bowl those crossed legs make.

“I’ve been incredibly fortunate to see so many sides of you.” Xie Lian closes his eyes, Hua Cheng reflection is beaming. It’s unbearable. “My luck just keeps getting better and better if I get a chance to see you like this too.”

“San Lang, please! Do you ever tire of making me look like a tomato?” Honestly. Consider Xie Lian’s poor blood vessels.

“No.” Hua Cheng snuggles up to him, smugly rubbing his face into his soft fluffy hair. “Never. Tell me how you were like as a child?”

Xie Lian’s brows knit together in thought and then he answers honestly, “I was a brat.”

Helpless chuckles are muffled into his hair. “Oh really?” Xie Lian picks at the leather boots under him in retaliation, yet the arms around him just tighten.

“I was! I had rooms of toys–”

“And of swords?”

“Yes, and of swords too, they were separate chambers. I made castles out of gold leaf cards and demanded to continue sleeping with my mother far after it was considered appropriate.”

“Now that's a request I would never reject.”

Xie Lian smacks Hua Cheng’s arm with his tiny palm. It just makes the chest behind him shake more with glee.

“What else did you like to do?” Hua Cheng nuzzles the tiny god, the hair jewelry poking dangerously but he doesn't care. He adores how Xie Lian fits completely in his arms with this new size.

It's a good size. He loves this size.

Xie Lian chews on his lip. It was a long time ago. That part of his life barely a blur, a wisp of light if he concentrates too hard it'll flicker away. “I remember I used to like playing on the...swings.”

Hua Cheng’s whole posture straightens. “I need to find a swing set immediately.”

“That’s not important.”

“I assure you it’s suddenly very important. To me. I need to push you on the swings.” To Xie Lian's absolute dismay, the man gets up and his own feet dangle as Hua Cheng settles him over his shoulders. Like a father with a child. The dice reappear and rattle as they land in Hua Cheng's palm.

"Shouldn't we care about finding out how to break the curse first? That should be our first priority!" He's careful to rest his hands on the crown of Hua Cheng's head, making sure not to jostle the eyepatch.

"Later."

Xie Lian sighs and plops his chin on top of his hands exasperated. The moment Hua Cheng has left the Manor when they hit the street, the eyes of every nearby ghost bulge and pop.  

No one can resist not saying anything.

"MY LORD WHEN DID YOU GET A CHILD?" The phrase has more heads whipping in their direction.

Over at a vendor, a ghoul squints and then screams, "WAIT, IS THAT GRAND UNCLE?"

Xie Lian doesn’t have any time to swear. Not when a twitter of painted ladies screech and bombard the pair, "LET US TOUCH HIM. HE'S SO PRETTY. HOW DID HE GET SO SMALL?"

"A curse," Hua Cheng says. "And no. You do not get to touch him."

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly more merge with their group, it becoming in a strange parade as the curious trail behind them. There are hunched goblins with moldy green skin that run a few paces before giggling at the sight. Ghost flames that hover playfully darting here and there. From the willow female sirens to the largest ogre they fall in line with brightest horrible grins. A few offer Xie Lian odd sweets made from rather questionable ingredients.

"TRY THIS LITTLE GRAND UNCLE, MY SUGAR SPIDER WEBS ARE THE BEST!"

"NO HE'S TOO SCRAWNY, HE NEEDS MORE MEAT ON THOSE BONES. HERE. HAVE MY ARM! I DIPPED IT IN CARMEL FOR YOU."

Others wave an assortment of meat buns as close as they dare since no one has forgotten that one time in the gambler's den.

“COME ON, EAT SOMETHING PLEASE! OH, YOUR FACE IS SO CUTE. LOOK UP FOR US SOME MORE." Xie Lian firmly buries his face into Hua Cheng's hair and shakes it back and forth.

"Make them stop." He begs. “Please.”

Hua Cheng hums. "Now, now don’t ruin their fun Gege. We've become a proper Ghost Parade by now. Why I don't think I could stop them even if I tried. You know how they get when you 'visit,’ you're just that popular."

Xie Lian groans.

"WHERE ARE WE GOING, MY LORD?"

Hua Cheng's eye twinkles. "Your dear Grand Uncle has told me he used to like playing on the swings, so we are on a quest to find them. Any idea where we may find some nearby?"

The colorful crowd goes wild. "SWINGS? DOES ANYBODY KNOW ABOUT SWINGS?”

“NAH!”

“NO.”

“I’VE GOT AN IDEA. WE CAN MAKE SOME. RIGHT NOW. DON'T MOVE."

In seconds what used to be a simple plaza becomes the weirdest playground Xie Lian has ever seen. The 'swings' are made from chains the large monster butchers carry around and they connect to three or four large thighbones tied together with pretty silk ribbons.

Xie Lian hopes those bones are not human.

Let him hope.

Hopes are dashed when they tell him they were very enthusiastically donated.

Hua Cheng slowly settles him on swings and makes sure his fingers are wrapped around the chains securely. He fusses before pulling the swing back with a few steps. The crowd cheers.

Xie Lian wants to die.

He feels another kiss to his temple and huffs with a twist to his lips. He guesses he should let Hua Cheng have his own fun and amusement at his expense. He did when the demon was a child. And perhaps he shouldn’t ruin the entertainment the ghost inhabitants somehow crave. As lame as it is. Who wants to watch a child being pushed to extreme heights on a gory swingset?

But he did...really like the swings.

“Are you ready to fly, Little Prince?”

"Are you going to let me touch the ground anytime soon?"

"Nope."

And Xie Lian should have seen that coming too. Oh well. They’ll find the cure to this aliment...eventually.

“Then let’s see how high you can make me go. Can you make me ascend a fourth time, San Lang?” He dares.

Hua Cheng’s fingers tighten on the chains above his, a wicked smile in voice. “There’s only one way to find out, Dianxia.”

Only the ghost city witnesses the figure in white and silk fly so high but their master never lets the small boy fall.

Not once.

Not ever.

[unityghost]

Utility

Part 13 of my angstalicious series Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels. Finals are over and I have a holiday installment coming up, then a bunch of prompts. Time to be Author McBitch.

Daytime was getting to be more manageable. But Gabriel’s patience wore thin as the nightmares continued to harass him almost every time he closed his eyes, more than half a year since he’d come to stay with Sam and Dean at the bunker.

Gabriel had been so sure that as his grace gradually returned – a process still ongoing – and he needed less and less sleep to function properly, the bad dreams would become shorter. Less vivid.

But almost every night, they did what they had since his rescue: broken up his sleep, made him need more sleep, and ultimately hindered the replenishment of his grace.

Practice made it easier to keep from disturbing other people – people who had already done too much to try to hold him in one piece. He grew accustomed to waiting out the rest of the night alone. It was now almost instinctual to lie in bed instead of collapsing to the floor, to roll over and throw up into the trash can instead of on himself, to wait patiently for any impending abuse instead of trying to fight back.

But sometimes Gabriel wasn’t successful: he would succumb to a fit of panic, sobbing for help; he would vomit all over the sheets; he would grew desperate enough that he ran out of his room and stumbled over his own feet, pitching to the floor and inevitably waking someone up.

Castiel was usually the first to notice Gabriel’s distress, since he was the only one among them that required no sleep at all. He never reacted with alarm or confusion, and never asked questions. Instead, he simply did what he could to get Gabriel through the worst of it: sitting with him, quietly insisting that he was no longer in danger, holding him steady while he got sick, remaining patient as Gabriel gave in to memories that refused to remain memories.

Gabriel appreciated his brother’s assistance. In those moments of terror, he was grateful for a reassuring presence.

Still, it was no secret to any of them that Gabriel had an extreme preference for Sam.

It was Sam who had coaxed him out of insanity shortly following his rescue. Sam had seen him at his worst, worse than what the others thought was the ugliest he could get. Whereas Castiel, too, had witnessed the immediate aftermath of Gabriel’s liberation, Sam had been the one to press on Gabriel’s vulnerabilities just hard enough to show that he knew where they were, but not with enough force to increase the pain.

Gabriel had responded with the first of many violent seizures of fear and sickness, and Sam didn’t leave. Nor did he squirm or look away. He did what he could to make touch seem a little less damning, to furnish at least the illusion of safety.

So at this point, especially now that this same process had taken place at least once every couple of weeks since that first episode of self-debasement, Sam was the only one Gabriel really wanted nearby in the fallout of a nightmare. It helped to have someone else, anyone else, because of course the alternative was being alone; but having Sam there was different from not having Sam there.

So there were times when Gabriel could cope by himself, and times when he was compelled to seek assistance.

And then there were times when the source of help absolutely had to be Sam.

Tonight, the dream dragged on for a long while before Gabriel woke up. When he did, the darkness felt thick, warm, and sour. Images from the dream clattered through his mind in pieces and he strove to identify exactly what it was that had caused him to feel so …

In fact, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. His reaction to the dream, like the dream itself, took some organization. In any case, he was sweaty and trembling.

Then, as if in sync with his wild heartbeat, pictures and voices began to come together.

“He’s right here.” Gabriel recognized Dean’s voice.

“Where’s Sam?” Gabriel. That was Gabriel.

“Just hold him down, Dean.” Castiel. “He won’t fight.”

The floor of the hall was slippery, so that Gabriel couldn’t stand without struggling and was unable to focus on anything other than maintaining his balance. He had no way of knowing how close the voices were.

He slipped, spilling onto the floor.

Gabriel shivered. He no longer tried to recall the nightmare; he was now powerless to slow its return.

“Dean, are you sure we should be following these orders? I don’t want to give in to Asmodeus if I can help it.”

“We tried, Cas. Gabriel’s a pain. I told you that. He’s taking too long.”

“Well, I suppose at least Asmodeus will find him useful.”

Gabriel tried to get up from the floor but was pushed back down – not violently, but firmly – and recognized the pressure and tightness of the hands as Dean’s.

“What are you doing to me?” Gabriel screamed. “Please, please, get Sam!”

A knife through his back, pinning him down, forcing his breath away, stinging as he flailed and choked.

“Asmodeus told me this trick always worked. Come on, Cas. Let’s go see if he’s ready yet.”

Gabriel tried to speak, tried to ask what Asmodeus was ready for, but managed only a whisper and lost more breath.

Gabriel sat up in bed, trying to shut out the rest. But it flooded him.

Taking quick, shallow breaths, Gabriel leapt out of bed and, only half-aware of what he was doing, sprinted to the door.

After that nightmare – images of which still crawled through his conscience – Gabriel felt that he had no dignity to sacrifice, not when he’d just been locked to the floor with a knife through his spine, waiting for Asmodeus to drag him back to Hell.

Gabriel didn’t care what happened next. He only knew he couldn’t remain lying prostrate in the hall, stabbed and suffocated by people he had thought - foolishly - he might be able to trust.

Do you trust Sam? he asked himself, and the answer was a mess. He did trust Sam, but felt that he shouldn’t; and yet he didn’t trust Sam, even as he desperately wanted to. He was sure now that Sam would never intend to cause him harm, but he was also convinced that Sam didn’t have the grit to keep helping him.

And this - was this a mistake? Running to Sam in the dead of night, risking punishment and further humiliation?

Instinct overrode analysis.

Gabriel didn’t even pause to knock on the door. Immediately, Sam switched on the bedside lamp, gun raised and aimed directly at Gabriel. Perhaps Gabriel should have expected it. Even so, he threw his arms over his face and stumbled backwards.

He heard the weapon being lain on the bedside table, and then Sam climbing out of bed and moving towards him.

Sam pried Gabriel’s arms away from his face. “Hey hey hey, I just didn’t know it was you. You’re all right.”

The gun had given Gabriel such a shock that he now shook hard enough to make standing a challenge. He thought again of falling to the floor before Dean shoved him into submission.

“Sorry,” Sam said, bracing both hands on either of Gabriel’s shoulders. “I’m sorry; I left because you fell asleep.”

Sam had taken to staying with Gabriel until Gabriel was no longer awake. Sam had been the one to suggest it, and while Gabriel had initially scoffed and reminded Sam that as long as he was playing nursemaid, Gabriel was never going to regain even a fragment of his former self, he didn’t try to argue a second time.

Now, Sam guided Gabriel to the bed and helped him sit. “You look pretty riled up.”

“Yeah, I …I’m sorry, Sam; I couldn’t help it.”

“No, don’t worry. You’re okay now. It’s all over. Oh, hang on - ” He went to the closet and brought back a plastic bucket, which he placed in front of the bed. “Figured it was better to keep on hand than the trash. Just, you know, if you need it.”

Gabriel blinked at the bucket. “You have bigger things to worry about. But I guess there’s less chance of me puking all over your bed.”

Sam took a seat beside him. “Tell me what’s up.”

.Gabriel lowered his gaze to his lap. “Stupid nightmares being stupid.”

“I figured. The usual? Or something new?” Sam knew that there was no shortage of fresh material.

Gabriel’s flesh crawled as the dream broke through once more. “I’ve never had this one.”

“Must’ve been pretty bad.”

“It - yeah.” He tried to meet Sam’s eyes and immediately looked away again. “Your brother. And my brother. They - they, uh - ”

“You don’t have to tell me if you feel like you can’t.”

“No, I’m fine.” Gabriel steeled himself. At this point he had settled down just enough to feel embarrassed. The least he could do was give Sam an explanation for why he had intruded upon his much-needed sleep. “Dean and Cas rammed a knife through my back so that Asmodeus could get to me. I was held in place - on the floor - like it was a stake or something. Left me feeling a little …” His throat tightened. “I mean, I woke up and you were the only safe person left.”

Sam rested a hand on Gabriel’s back. “I’m here. You wanna lie down?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Might fall asleep. I’d rather stay awake and pity myself than listen to Dean and Castiel talk about how hopeless I am.”

Sam frowned, letting his hand slide off. “Is that why Asmodeus was coming back for you? Because Dean and Cas decided you were a lost cause?”

Gabriel grimaced. “You put the pieces together fast, don’t you? Yeah. That was why. They said they’d tried to help me but it didn’t work, and Asmodeus would at least find me - ”

But the word froze on his tongue.

“Would find you what?” asked Sam.

Gabriel pulled his knees up to his chest. “‘Useful.’”

Sam seemed unsurprised. “You don’t have to be useful. In any case, you’ve been great with the translations. But we wouldn’t give you back to Asmodeus. Of course we wouldn’t. We’d rather keep you here.”

“That’s nice of you,” Gabriel muttered. “I - I just - if I’m, you know, expendable, then why should I stick around?”

“‘Stick around’?” Sam sounded wary.

“Stick around in the bunker, I mean,” Gabriel clarified, because he knew that if he said what he really meant then the conversation would shift course. “You could throw me away any time you want. I mean, look, it scares the everliving shit out of me, but when I really consider the big picture, Dean and Cas weren’t actually incorrect. Not saying you’d feed me to Asmodeus - just making note of the fact that I was useful to him and now I … I’m not useful to anyone.”

Sam stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t have to be useful to be worth something.” He thought for a moment, then added, “People pay out the ass just to be able to put sparkly rocks on the shelf. And what good to they do? People just want to have them there.”

Gabriel gave a hollow laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’m just your standard boulder. The kind you trip over. The kind with bugs crawling around underneath.”

“Okay, well, giving bugs somewhere to live is way more helpful than just looking pretty.”

“Sam …” Gabriel tried to take a deep breath and found he couldn’t. “It isn’t being useful that matters. It’s that being useful is the only thing that makes me matter.”

Sam looked distressed. “Don’t say things like - ”

“Grace. I’m good for my grace.” Gabriel felt his throat tighten and coughed to clear it. “So long as I’m here, just waking up to throw a fit, I don’tmatter, okay? And when I was with him,” Gabriel plowed on as Sam opened his mouth, “I wasn’t anything; I was … I was nothing. But I mattered. Because I could supply something that mattered. And now …” He swallowed. “Now I can’t even do that.”

“Gabe, come on.”

“Can’t think of a solid excuse for that one, can you? Good. This is just how things are, Sam. I’m worth my grace and I barely have enough to heal a bruise. Or maybe I’m good for a fight here and there, or - or whatever anyone wants to do with me, you know? Lay me down, play their games - I’m useful for that.”

Sam looked nauseated. “Gabriel, stop.”

Gabriel raked his hands through his hair. It felt greasy. Sam was right; he needed to clean himself up. “Sometimes I think it’d make sense. Scares me, but you guys might as well ship me off somewhere I actually have a purpose.”

“Gabriel, don’t. Please.” Sam gripped his shoulder. “You’re in a bad place and you need to get better. This isn’t the time for you to be useful, okay? This is a time for you to listen. So listen to me. What if it were Cas? What if he was in pain and told you he thought we should only keep him around for servitude?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not trying to tell you I don’t appreciate all the TLC. I’m just saying that the dream hurt, but it wasn’t wrong.”

Sam tightened his grasp. “I don’t understand why you’re putting yourself through more abuse.”

Gabriel shrugged, half-expecting Sam to let go of his shoulder. When he held on, Gabriel looked up at him. “I know what I’m good for. And at the moment I’m good for bulking up your daycare resume. I still think you’re going to learn the hard way that you’re spending time on a project that can’t be finished. But if working on it right now makes you happy, then … well, I’m glad to be a part of that.”

“Jesus Christ, Gabriel.” This time Sam did release him. “Come on. Don’t hurt yourself like that. Here, lie down for a second; you can just - ”

Gabriel recoiled. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not.” The sensation of the knife through his back sullied the security of Sam’s presence.

“All right.” Sam spoke softly. “But you know none of this is real, don’t you? You know Dean and Cas would never do something like that, right? And Asmodeus is dead, but even if he did try to take you, we’d put up a good fight. He’s not getting anywhere near you. Mostly because he’s gone, but also because even if he wasn’t, we’d keep you safe.”

Despite Sam’s words, Gabriel began to shiver more forcefully. “But what if - ”

“No. There’s no ‘what if.’”

“If they - I think - ” He drew a shaky breath and looked up at Sam. “If Dean or Castiel decided they’d had more than their fair share of a psychotic archangel, that’s their right. They never said anything about wanting me. But if - if you - ”

“Don’t.”

“If you were the one to shove a knife through me - ”

“I said don’t!”

“I’d never tell you you shouldn’t, but - ”

“You don’t have to tell me! We’ve been through this; I’m not gonna throw you onto the streets or into the pit just because you’re not at a hundred percent right now! What, you think Dean and Cas should’ve done that to me?”

“No!” The thought was enough to turn Gabriel’s stomach. “But that’s different. You guys are family. You’re family in a way that even Cas and I aren’t.”

“But Cas cares about you. So does Dean. And Jack. And you’ve made it clear that you think I shouldn’t care, but I do. Quit waiting for the other shoe to drop. Gabriel, your job isn’t to stand sentry until one of us gets fed up; it’s to leave Asmodeus behind and start trusting us when we say you shouldn’t have been tortured. None of us wants to see you like this, and all of us want you to get better. For your sake, not ours.”

Gabriel shifted his eyes once more to his lap, not sure how to respond. Finally, he managed to say, “This is a no-win situation. I don’t heal, I mooch off of you guys. I get better, it’s time for me to go.”

“What? Who told you that?”

“Just makes sense.”

“We’re not getting rid of you.”

“No, it’s okay; you should. I don’t mind; I just …” He curled his hands into fists, and felt a tear spill down his cheek. “All right. I mind. But - I also understand.”

“Dude, will you stop making plans for us? You can stay as long as you want.”

Gabriel lowered his head further, trying to shield his face, sick of crying in front of Sam. “I feel like - like I’ve got to prepare myself.”

He felt Sam shift closer. “You spent over eight hundred years with Asmodeus, preparing yourself for his next move. Don’t you think you deserve a little time to relax?”

Gabriel choked on a muffled sob. It was as though he still lacked autonomy, as though everything he’d faced was still trying to wrestle itself out of him and the desperate ferocity of its efforts kept Gabriel himself from getting free.

He swiped at his face with the heels of his hands. “I think you and your brother should train me to control myself.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said quietly. “You know you’re allowed to show me what’s going on.”

“And you’re allowed to mix ectoplasm into a milkshake, but that doesn’t make it a good idea.” He straightened up and looked at Sam. “We both need this to end. Sooner or later it’s just going to get worse. Habits are hard to break, and I can’t say I’m proud of losing my shit every time we’re in the same room.”

“Take it easy. Now’s not the time to worry about saving face.” He touched Gabriel’s arm. “You’re sick, Gabriel. When you’re sick you’re not supposed to care what other people think. All you need to do is rest up and let us take care of you.”

Almost unaware of what he was doing, Gabriel seized Sam’s hand. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause it hurts, man. I don’t know what to do with it. I’m scared I’m gonna mess up and change your mind.”

“What could you possibly do to mess up that bad?”

Gabriel clutched Sam’s hand, feeling stupid but desperate. “Like this. Waking up and harassing you. Clinging to you like a squid. Spilling my guts when you have your own memories to deal with. The Cage, and … and whatever you haven’t told me. I know that some of what I say to you hits close to home, Sam. And eventually it’s going to be too much.”

Sam squeezed back. “No, that’s not going to happen. I’ve had time to handle my own crap. Besides, the more I know what it’s like, the more I want to help. You aren’t making anything worse.”

“But Dean said - ” Gabriel hesitated. “Dean said you get like me. That’s got to make it hard to drag yourself through everything I tell you. Everything you have to watch.”

Sam looked discomfited. “Dean told you that? I wish he hadn’t. Uh - yeah, I have the occasional bad day. But - you know - even the worst aren’t what they used to be. Not as often. Not as intense. I promise you aren’t making things more difficult than they need to be.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, I still promise.”

Gabriel stared down at Sam’s hand, big enough to swallow up his own. “You think Dean would ever go for that? You know, if I did something to really bug him?”

Sam’s eyes widened in horror. “What? Pin you to the floor with a knife?”

“He’s not as patient as you are. I could see him giving me up if the opportunity arose.”

“My brother would never do something like that! Even if he tried - he won’t, but supposing he did - you think I’d just step aside and let it happen?”

A tear splashed onto Sam’s knuckles. “I hope not.”

“Gabriel, please don’t worry so much. It’s bad for you. It’s not gonna help.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything, just focused on the knot in his throat and tried to keep his breathing under control.

“And neither is that,” Sam added.

Gabriel glanced up. “Hmm?”

“How come you’re still so squeamish about me seeing you get upset?”

The question took Gabriel by surprise. “I’m not squeamish. I just don’t want to make it more of a habit than it already is.” Gabriel glanced at the clock. 4:32. “You should go to sleep, Sam. I’ll be okay. I just wanted to see you because I was freaking out.”

“Why don’t I come back to your room?” Sam suggested.

Gabriel climbed off the mattress. “No. I’m gonna … I don’t know. I’ll find something to do.”

“I kind of feel like you’re not done,” Sam replied.

“What?”

“Just … it seems like this is still bothering you.”

“I - ” Gabriel’s chest tightened as he looked at Sam.

Sam met his gaze, brow furrowed in concern.

“Son of a bitch,” Gabriel whispered, and broke into a quiet fit of sobbing.

“Okay,” Sam said softly. “It’s okay. Come here.”

Gabriel didn’t move, caught halfway between wanting to sacrifice control entirely and wanting to run out of the room.

“Are you afraid of me touching you?” Sam asked.

Gabriel shook his head.

“Then why don’t you want to come sit?”

Gabriel didn’t respond, only stood in place, head bent, striving for some semblance of dignity.

It was late. Or early. In any case, the wrong hour for getting worked up like this.

“Gabriel, what can I do?” Sam pressed.

Still avoiding Sam’s eyes, Gabriel croaked, “This is dumb. The guilt is making everything worse. You’re tired, I’m tired - ”

“I’m not that tired.”

“Shut up; it’s almost 5:00 A.M.”

“Well, I’m awake now. And besides, I’m used to sleeping two or three hours at a time.” He paused. “I feel like we’re not finished talking, though. Your whole thing about” - he used air quotations - “‘being useful’?”

Gabriel remained silent.

“I know what it feels like,” Sam continued. “I was never good for just being me. I was good for hunting.”

Gabriel scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. “Your old man feed you that BS?”

“Yeah. And it still rings true.”

“Jesus Christ Sam, no.”

“It does. And Cas feels that way now and again as well. He’s lost his grace more than once, and when he was human he worried about not being good enough.”

“My brother worried about that? Why? You guys wouldn’t care about his grace; he’s special to you.”

“You’re right. We tried telling him that, but I don’t think he was ever fully convinced. The point is that we wanted him here, and we want you here too.” Sam smiled. “We like you.”

“Pfft. That’s nice.”

“No, I mean it. Can’t you tell?”

Gabriel shrugged.

“Who asked you to be useful, Gabe?” Sam continued. “We just want to see you heal up. And after that, you can decide whether you want to stick around. It’d be good to have you. Even if you make the choice to move on, you’d at least have to come hang out once in a while.”

For a few moments, Gabriel didn’t speak. When he did, he chose his words carefully. “You really seem to believe you aren’t going to change your mind. I … the truth is there have been times when I thought maybe I was worrying too much. But I don’t want to tempt myself with that, because the risk of being disappointed is too big. Better to just arm myself now. Otherwise, I think I might end up catatonic.”

“There’s no use in getting ready for something that won’t happen.”

“And if it does?” Gabriel crossed his arms, folding himself in, an old reflex that was hard to abandon. “I’m not saying it will, but the fact that it might is more than enough incentive for me to start stocking up on resilience.”

Sam sighed. “Okay. I don’t think I can make you believe me. Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “Just wish you’d learn that not all of us are Asmodeus.”

Gabriel hadn't expected those words. “I don’t think that.”

“Well, maybe not that exactly, but the shit he put you through, the way he taught you to raise your defenses - it stuck. And it’s hard for me to unstick.”

“It’s not your responsibility to unstick it,” Gabriel reminded him.

Sam got to his feet. “No, but you need to shake it off. Look, whether or not I change my mind about any of this - you have to change your mind. I think you have to start telling yourself that it’ll be okay. I know that sounds like it won’t help but - ”

“Positive … self … talk,” Gabriel said, pretending to take notes. “Thanks, Oprah.”

“You could at least do a trial run.”

Gabriel groaned, battling the early sting of a headache. “His voice is too loud.”

“I know.”

“How am I supposed to shut it out?”

“I guess you just practice.”

“That ever work for you?”

Sam had to consider this for a moment. “Yeah. I guess I didn’t notice until now, but I think it’s made a difference.”

“Huh.”

“So you have all these feelings that you’re worthless, and that you’re a mess. You told me once you thought Asmodeus was right to torment you like he did.”

“I remember,” Gabriel muttered. Some time ago, Sam had taken him out for a trip to the local diner, during which time Dean had called to ask about an error in Gabriel’s translation of a Men of Letters text. Gabriel was so horrified by his mistake that he’d told Sam he was sure Asmodeus had done the right thing.

“And you have it in your head,” Sam went on, “That we should all just cut you out of our lives because you’re annoying and hopeless.”

Gabriel smiled wryly. “You’ve been listening.”

“So tell yourself exactly the opposite. It sucks, it’s hard, but Asmodeus is the one who’s annoying. Shut him up.”

Gabriel bit his lip. “The problem is that I think he might be onto something. ”

“He’s not. Make him stop talking. He did it to you, remember?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No Sam, I forgot.”

“Let him see what it’s like. Whenever that voice tries to tell you something about who you are, or what you deserve …” Sam gave a knowing smile. “Pull out that needle and thread.”

Gabriel pictured it, anticipating revulsion - but the image gave him grim satisfaction. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll test it out.”

“Good.” Sam stretched, then asked, “How do you feel about grabbing some coffee so that we can both function like normal humans?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Humans, huh?”

Sam looked embarrassed. “I meant …”

“I know what you meant. It’s fine. Sooner or later you won’t ever be tempted to make that mistake again.”

“You want a hug?”

Gabriel blinked. “I’m sorry, what? Where did that come from?”

“I just figured I’d ask.”

“When and why did you decide this?”

“If you don’t think - ”

“Shut up, I didn’t say no. Just give me a little warning next time.” He wrapped his arms around Sam, holding tightly. Sam returned the embrace.

“Sorry I’m so difficult,” Gabriel muttered, still clinging to him. “And you don’t need to say I’m not; I know that I am. It’s okay. I know this must be rough on you. So as guilty as I feel, I still appreciate you not giving up on me.”

“Yeah, of course.” Sam pulled away to meet Gabriel’s eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. And I think what you meant to say is that the circumstances are difficult.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, you’re more than just your hunting abilities.”

“And you’re more than however much grace you can supply. Let’s go get some coffee. If anything'll boost your grace levels, it’s that Starbucks stuff Dean splurged on.”

Part of Gabriel wanted to protest that partaking of their expensive coffee would be unfair, that he didn’t deserve it. But then he remembered what Sam had said to him - remembered that Gabriel had told Sam he would try and put it into practice.

I deserve the stupid coffee, he thought, feeling self-conscious.

There. He’d fulfilled his promise to Sam. At least he was useful for that much.

[sonofadeanwinchester]

Someday Darling (Part Four)

One | Two | Three

Summary: Leaving LA to go to New York to spend time with your brother might just be the worst/best decision of your life.

Words: 1,845

Student!Sebastian x Reader ; Actor!Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: SWEARING (y’all should just expect that by now) ; FLUFF & arguement flashbacks

A/N: THIS IS MY NEW STORY! WELCOME ONE WELCOME ALL! If you wanna be tagged, don’t be shy and let me know! ;) SHORT CHAPTER I AM SORRY

Tags: @221bshrlocked @potterhead1265 @shellymaesworld @titty-teetee @pawallday @chameerah @buckylicious@nerdywitch@teresaoliva20 @guera31 @i-should-probably-be-asleep-rn@hvitserksgirl @lancetucker@ssweet-empowerment @ijustreallylovezebras @amandarosemire

**GIF NOT MINE (originally posted by my girl, @lancetucker)

A knock interrupted my thought process, "(y/n)?" It was Penn, he slid open the door and sat beside me on the bed. "Hey, you feeling okay? You're crying."

I guess the memories had brought back real tears and I wiped my cheeks, smiling, "Yeah, I'm great. Just thinking about stuff." I leaned up and hugged him side on,resting my head on his shoulder. "Did Sebastian say anything about me? I royally embarrassed myself in front of him tonight."

Penn shook his head and chuckled, "Sebastian doesn't talk much but when he does, he's loud but don't worry, he never said anything to me about you. What did you do?"

I felt my face flush, "I think I accidentally checked him out and he may have accidentally seen it. Plus I... may have vocalized it." I buried my face in my hands and shook. "Fuck. What am I gonna do now? He thinks I'm some big horn dog."

Penn laughed and hugged me tighter, "I'll let you in on a not-so-secret. You are a horn dog, but he is much more of one." He laughed and stood, kissing my hair, he left the room and shut the door.

With Penn being gone, I was forced to go back to my trail of thoughts, I remember flipping Chris off and falling to the floor. 

Several hours after of just sitting there, in a pile on the floor, I heard a quite knock on the apartment door. I gathered enough strength to peek out the hole, it was him. I pounded the door, ignoring the fresh river of tears flowing from my eyes. "Go away Chris."

"(y/n), baby, listen to me. I know you saw those pictures but trust me when I say that they mean nothing to me! Andre suggested that I take Cassie out on a date or two to make the paparazzi go crazy so that the film becomes bigger. He refused to let me call you and I had to stay over Christmas. We're done shooting now and I won't be leaving again for while. Sweetheart, just please open the door and let me explain." He sounded so hurt.

I remained silent and tried to muster up the courage to open the door and face him. After a few minutes of looking at him through the peep hole, I removed the chain and stepped back. I watched the knob turn slowly and it creak open. "(y/n), please."

I stepped further away, crossed my arms and nodded. "You have two minutes." The tears were gathering in my eyes again but I blinked them away, refusing to look weak in front of him again.

He nodded, "Cassie Margaret means nothing to me. She's just a actress that I worked in a film with. I love you and only you. Please, (y/n)." He stepped a bit closer and I kept my arms crossed in front of me but not moving. "Baby, please. That kiss meant nothing, absolutely nothing. Just something for work, I promise." I nodded and breathed in sharply, "Chris, I can't forgive you right now and it's going to take a hell of a lot longer for me to even trust you again. But ... you can bring your stuff in. I'll get you a blanket for the couch." And with that, I turned away and walked to the bedroom closet.

"(y/n)? Hey, it's Sebastian. I'm just wondering if you wanted some Thai? I'm ordering in." He was knocking at the door, I was half asleep, in my head I could have sworn it was Chris so I somehow mustered a 'come in' and turned my head slightly, my face towards the door. He opened the door and chuckled, tiptoeing closer to me and shoved my shoulder. "(y/n)? What do you want?"

I shook my head and squinted my eyes at him, "Whatever you're having is good, babe. Thanks Chris." I rolled back over and felt myself drifting away.

I don't even remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I had my blanket over me and a note telling me there was some Thai food in the fridge. There was no name left so I just assumed it was Penn. I brushed my teeth and hair, washed my face and got dressed for the day. I sauntered out to the kitchen, roughly around 10:30 and found Penn sitting on the couch, with a cup of coffee. "Hey (y/n) , welcome back to the real world. Guess flying doesn't agree with you, eh?"

"Careful, your Canadian is showing." I flashed him the finger and he chuckled, bringing his mug back to his lip. I walked to the kitchen, searching for a coffee mug when I saw someone move from the corner of my eye. I jumped a bit when I saw Sebastian sitting there, coffee in hand, reading the newspaper. "Morning." I said quietly.

He smirked and flipped the page. "Morning, there is some Thai food in the fridge for you." I must have made a face because he continued to say, "didn't you get my note?" He filled his mouth with coffee and swallowed slowly.

My face flushed to a deep red, "Oh? I thought Penn wrote that note. Why did you get me food?"

He chuckled softly, "Uh, I asked you last night when you were half asleep and you said to get whatever I was having and then-" He sighed, cocking a brow at me.

"Then what?" I pulled the carton of food out and placed it neatly onto a plate.

He looked up swiftly, clearing his throat. "And then you called me babe and some guy named Chris."

I almost dropped my plate putting it into the microwave. "Oh god, I'm sorry."

He laughed, "it's okay." He looked at me and smirked, "Who's Chris?"

I nodded and bit my bottom lip, "my boyfriend back in California."

He nodded slowly and drank his last mouthful of coffee. "Well, he's a lucky man."

 He stood up and made his way over to me. The microwave was directly over the sink so he scooted in close to me. He smelt like rain, vanilla, sex and coffee. I breathed in his scent and felt something rumble in my stomach. He was close enough that I felt his breath on my skin, his arms rubbing against mine. "Excuse me." He said, our faces inches from each other.

I didn't move back and neither did he. We stood like that, looking at each other until Penn yelled out from the living room that there was some food in the fridge for me. I cleared my throat and stepped slightly back from Sebastian. "Uh, yeah Penn, Sebastian just told me."

He stepped closer to me and I swear i could hear my own heart beat rise as he came closer. "(y/n), would you like a tour of New York?" He was inches away from me again and it took all within me not to reach out and touch his face.

I felt my face deepen in color, "I'd like to have a tour but Penn is working and you have school?"

He snorted under his breath, making coffee and toothpaste fill my nostrils. "Yeah, but it can wait."

I didn't hear anything he had said, all I could focus on was his plump, pink lips. I bit my lip and stepped backwards, "okay." It came out as a whisper.

Stepping closer, he locked eye contact with me and scanned my face, glancing at my lips. Biting his bottom lip, he lifted his hand to touch my hip. He brought me closer so I was invading his personal space, majorly. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my lips, wrapping his arm around my waist. I knew this was wrong, and I knew I shouldn't be doing it but I kissed him back. I stepped away abruptly and sped walked to my room.

Sebastian followed behind me, long legged strides catching up to my short legs. I shut the door but he put his foot in the way, causing it to slam against his bare foot. "I’m sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you."

My back towards him, I nodded, "yeah"

He stepped farther into the room, cocking his to the side as if asking if it was okay. I nodded and he smiled lightly. "How long have you and Chris been together?"

My words got stuck in my throat, "uh, almost two years." I crawled onto my bed, bringing the throw blanket over my legs.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking for something to say. "Long time." He nodded to the end of the bed, obviously wanting to sit down. "Why are you in New York?"

I nodded again, and pulled my legs to my chest.  "Uh, a few months ago, Chris cheated on me with a co-star and I never really got over it. Decided to get away from him for a while so I could sort some stuff out."

He was rubbing the throw blanket with the tips of his fingers, froze he whispered, "seriously?" His lips parted ever so lightly and he licked them quickly. "What kind of idiot cheats on a girl like you?"

I froze, guilt filling my stomach, making me want to throw up. I jumped from my bed and ran to the washroom, filling the toilet with my guilt. Sebastian was right after me, knocking cautiously. "(y/n)? Are you okay?"

I laid on the floor, beside the toilet, sobbing quietly. He opened the door and saw my position. Instantly fell beside me, talking softly. "What's the matter? Was it the kiss? If that's it, I'm so sorry (y/n)."

I nodded and tried pushing away from him. "I just remembered how bad I felt when I saw Chris kissing another girl and realized that I didn't want to do that him, no matter how angry I am at him."

I skittered past him and trotted back to my bed. I fell asleep sometime between being sick and waking up to find Sebastian asleep in the chair beside my bed. I gazed at his features; strong jaw line, beautiful dark eyelashes, cheekbones to die for. He stirred and noticed me staring, "Hey." He smirked, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey." I rolled over on my side so I could sit up on my elbow. "I'm sorry for that little spell I did. You don't need to hear about my problems. I just met you." I felt my face flush and he smiled.

"(y/n). I understand how it feels to have someone betray you like that. It blows. You deserve someone who is going to respect and love you enough to never hurt you like that." A tear trickled down my cheek and I wiped it quickly, smiling with tight lips. He began to stand up but decided against it. "I shouldn't have kissed you. I knew you had a boyfriend."

I rolled back over, my back towards him again and sighed. "I know. Just don't do it again .. unless I ask."

[ff15trashgoldenslumbers]

Chocobros wants to know more about s/o's past. When they asked, only to be told they don't want to think about their past or talk about it. S/o's past being tragic. but s/o tells them one of those days they will talk about it, but not now.

I love dramatic past placed on Ocs, it where you really see how much the character has grown. It’s just hard to sometimes not go overboard.

~~~~~

Noctis

“I like spending time with your dad.” You smiled sitting inside the limo on the way back to Noctis’s apartment. “You’d think that a King would be sterner.”

“Yeah,” Noctis muttered, both you and his Father had hit it off almost immediately, so much so that you now had a few embarrassing pictures of himself as child on Behemoth skinned rug and absolutely no clothes on.

That’s when it occurred to him, that he had actually didn’t know anything about you before the two of you started dating. From time to time stories of your youth would escape while you both cuddled on the couch, yet you never mentioned anything about your family, it was also focused on you.

“What about your Mom and Dad?” Noctis found himself asking, only to instantly regret it by the look of panic that appeared on your face.

“I…I” You muttered, fingers clutching at your dress, that he had gotten you for this visit. “I…that is…”

Noctis watched as you began to softly hyperventilate, he reached out taking your hand, “Sweetie, are you okay?”

You snapped from your stupor as you looked to Noctis than away, “I…I want to tell you, but not right now.”

Noctis opened his mouth to retort, instead, he settled for pulling you, your large dress and all over into his lap. “That’s fine. I’m here when you wanna talk.”

~~~~~

Prompto

“Where did you learn to do that?” Prompto gasped, as you used a letter opener to open the bathroom door that he had somehow locked behind him.

“Oh, you know around.” You replied, walking into the room, getting ready. You had already texted the others explaining as to why the two of you were going to be late, only to get a text back from Ignis explaining he had provided you both with the wrong time so you two wouldn’t be late.

“But that’s like so cool, what else can you do? Like can you pick bigger locks? Like would you be able to pick the locks at the citadel?” He gushed stepping beside you picking up the hair gel. “It’s like you’re a spy or…Sweetie?”

Prompto stopped his rambling as he had noticed that you were gripping the sink with both hands, staring ahead at the mirror, a tremble going through your body repeatedly.

“Sweetie?” Prompto called again, reaching out to touch your shoulder as you immediately pulled away. The look of horror on your face, before you came back, Prompto didn’t think twice before pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know you don’t like to talk about your past.”

“I…I want to but…”

Prompto hugged you tighter if there was anyone who understood more it was him.

~~~~~

Gladiolus

It had been a rather long day for both you and Gladiolus. It was actually rather frustrating, as you both had been put in charge of the new recruits, he as an official member of the guard, while you were forever the same, a member yet also off the books.

One moment you weren’t there, the next you were issued a status by the King, but never official on any record, everything was done in secret. Yet you never seemed off, you ran your drills, you rose in rank, you were friendly to everyone, you even fell in love. Yet it still made some people uncomfortable that you just showed up.

“Arms up,” Gladiolus called, once you both got into the house, as he helped you remove your shirt soaked with today’s frustrations of new recruits. His eyes going to the mark on your left breast, most people might have thought it to be a mole or birthmark, yet he was one of the few that got close enough to know that it was a tattoo that was covered up.

“I’m going to go grab a shower before starting dinner.” You muttered softly.

“Babe,” Gladiolus called, as you turned. “You’ve been off for a bit, is everything cool?”

You looked to the man, going to open your mouth when you stopped, looking down, “Yeah.”

Gladiolus moved over to you, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

He turned your head to face him, “Really?”

You moved your head from his hand, “Yes, geez just stop it already.”

Gladiolus moved forward, attempting to stop you from running away, “It’s not, what’s wrong?”

“I told you I’m fine!” You barked.

Gladiolus moved to yell back, when he noticed the tears in your eyes, “Babe.”

“You don’t think, you don’t think that I don’t know that everyone stares at me like I’m so kind of freak. You don’t think I hear the staff saying that I’m obviously some type of whore, that I’m only with you for your money?” You cried your fist clenching at your side. “I’m so fucked up that I…that I…”

Gladiolus went to hug you, only for you to haul back and swing on him, he could have easily pushed it away, yet instead, he allowed for the punch to make contact with his jaw, “Babe.”

“I want to, I want to tell you everything, but I can’t…” You cried still within your follow through, “I’m so weak.”

Gladiolus grabbed the fist still pressed against his cheek, pulling it to his lips, “I know you would Babe, I didn’t mean to stress you out even more.”

“Gladiolus.” You cried, holding your out your arms, much like a child you believed yourself to behave like. Only to have Gladiolus pick you up, cradling you close to his chest, as you leaned forward pressing kiss after kiss on the cheek you hit. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Gladiolus smiled, “I’m just lucky you didn’t have your bladed knuckles on.”

~~~~~

Ignis

He wasn’t there, yet news travels quickly within the halls of the Citadel. So when it was revealed that Lord Scientia’s longtime girlfriend had jumped into and had actually taken up arms to stop a brawl in the middle of training, subduing the recruits that had gotten into the brawl, with a summoned lance was shocking to everyone as well as how well she was able to use it. The soft-spoken, mild-mannered assistant to Ignis had changed in a moments times.

Yet as quickly as you broke up the fight, you had disappeared, possibly to go and continue with your actual job of Ignis’s partner. Only for you to be summoned by the King to a hushed quick meeting. Rumors quickly spread that you were to be fired or placed in the rumored palace dungeons, yet instead, you were released from the meeting and returned back to your work.

“Darling,” Ignis called, well after work, the two of you finishing a late dinner.

“Yes, Dear?” You replied, placing the dishes used for dinner within the dishwasher.

“I wanted to speak to you about earlier,” Ignis stated, he watched as you immediately tensed, yet went back to soaking the pot before you.

“Yes, Dear?”

“May I inquire as to when it was that you were able to use the King’s magic?” He asked straight to the point.

“I have, for a while now, since I was a child.” You explained, yet you refused to turn and looked to the man.

“Why not mention it before?”

“No good has come from it.” You replied.

“Good, my love, this is amazing.” Ignis smiled.

“It’s not!” You screamed, startling Ignis, you had never yelled before. “The moment that I did, everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve earned with my own hands has flown out the window. All because I was careless for just a moment!” You cried only for the glass you were holding suddenly shatter within your hand due to the frost you had placed over it.

The two of stood within the kitchen in shock at the moment that passed between the two of you. Only for Ignis to snap out of the moment first, as he begun to clean the broken cup, it mostly seemed to have shattered into large pieces, he’d do a once-over with a wet cloth soon after, yet now to toss out the large pieces.

“Ignis…I…” You started, as you turned, wetting a cloth to get the smaller pieces, kneeling down to help him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, I should not have brought it up, forgive me.”

You sighed softly, “There’s a lot of horrid things that come with me using my powers, I don’t wish to dig up the past.”

Ignis rested a hand over your own, cleaning up the smaller pieces, “I don’t know of your past, I know you as you are today. Should you ever wish to speak of it, I will be here.”

“Thank you.”

[spideyxchelle]

So I know we've all just decided Michelle's last name is Jones but I just saw a post that asked what if it's Jameson? What if she's Jonah Jameson's daughter? Any headcanons for that?

okay, I love this so much. because, you’re right, we don’t know if her last name is Jones so the nearly ENDLESS possibilities of who she is are open and I love exploring them with you fam.

edit: hey guys, it was brought to my attention that @spideychelle-romanogers was the blog that came up with Michelle “MJ” Jameson headcanon. so go give some love over there. YOU KNOW HOW TO BE SUPPORTIVE, FAM. GO DO IT. 

their senior year of high school MJ becomes the Editor in Chief of the school newspaper and nobody is surprised. 

since before anyone could remember, MJ was seven feet deep in promoting equality and truth, and holding everyone accountable for their shit. 

in fact, she was so dedicated to her vision of a better world that every year some new york publication would print a submitted editorial think piece of Michelle’s because they were well-written, poignant and MJ had a bit of a leg up when it came to reporting. 

not nepotism but, okay, maybe just a little bit. her dad, Jonah Jameson, was the Editor in Chief at the Daily Bugle and so when MJ wrote something brilliant she knew which hands to put it in to make her voice heard. it was an advantage but she was going to play into every advantage she had if it meant raising the voices of disenfranchised people. she could give a microphone to people without a voice and, she figured, it would be damn irresponsible of her to not USE her contacts to get others stories out there. to raise people up. give them a platform for change. 

so yea, MJ was basically reporting royalty. 

SO TO CIRCLE BACK, nobody is surprised when MJ becomes the Editor-in-Chief of the school newspaper. and with her guidance Midtown Press Weekly starts publishing actual news instead of which desserts will be served at lunch time that week (although the lunch-time dessert puns do stay, even if they’re moved to the back page). 

and Peter is so freakin’ proud. he reads every article in the newspaper as soon as MJ takes over, even the shit she didn’t write because damn. everything is so good now. MJ always knew how to inspire people to do their best work. and Peter loves that about her.

oh yea, loves. that is the right word. because resident superhero Spider-man is dating Michelle Jones. 

or, well, at least he hopes he is. they’ve never really talked about it. they go to parties together, hang out at his house alone after school and makeout pretty much all the time. in his head that counted for something but sometimes MJ would give him a vague, unimpressed look when he’d crawl through his window after patrol all-beaten up and he’d worry she would decide she didn’t want to do this with him anymore. 

but if you ASKED him, Peter Parker would say that they were dating. and MJ would too but she’d be super offended you even asked about her personal life. 

but Michelle Jameson wasn’t very forth-coming with her Dad. J. Jonah Jameson could be very intense. whenever she would pop by his office downtown after school the first thing she would hear would be the boom of her Dad’s voice screaming at some poor reporter. her Dad was famous for hanging everyone out to dry. constantly. because their reporting was “lazy” or “unfocused” or “TERRIBLE, ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE”. and on a day when he was feeling less than charitable his reporters sometimes left his office in tears. 

MJ, however, wasn’t scared of her Dad at all. he was a big fluffy teddybear that loved her. and everything she did. she was his little Chelley. and only HE was allowed to call her that, OKAY??

but she would be lying if she said the idea of telling her Dad about Peter didn’t worry he a little. MJ didn’t date. as a rule. her father, who was woke as hell, did sometimes fall into the trap of the patriarchy at times. like, especially, when he said shit like she wasn’t allowed to date until she was thirty. to which she would kindly remind him that she had agency and was perfectly capable of making her own choices about her body and her love life. those conversations always made her Dad squirm. so needless to say, MJ was always trying to trap him into them for the LOLS of it. 

Peter was different, tho. she wanted her Dad to actually LIKE him. and Jonah Jameson didn’t like anything except President Obama and his daughter. Peter was not NEARLY as awesome as her or Obama. even if he was a superhero.

and that was the OTHER catch. J. Jonah Jameson hated Spider-man. like, LOATHED him. he felt like any kind of metahuman or superhero trying to enforce the law who wasn’t an officer of the law should be locked up. he was a proponent of the Accords. in fact, he went to the accords signing to cover the whole story himself. MJ had never been more terrified when she saw the room was bombed on the news. luckily, her father had been at the back of the room, furthest from the blast. AND AFTER THE ACCORDS, Jonah Jameson hated the “stupid, freakin’ Avengers” more than ever before. because the Winter Soldier had blown up the room. later, when MJ started to date Peter and was brought into the fold about Avengers things, she found out that it hadn’t been Bucky. that he had been set up. but she wasn’t going to try and convince her father of that. he was a reporter. she didn’t need her Dad looking into WHY MJ knew so much about the Avengers. she wanted to keep Peter’s secret identity out of the papers. 

of course, MJ couldn’t keep Peter from her Dad forever, especially if she wanted to keep dating him and she really, really did. 

in the end, she didn’t tell her Dad about Peter. her older brother Johnny did. John Jonah Jameson III was an asshole who STOLE HER FREAKIN’ PHONE and looked through her pictures. and he found some of MJ and Peter kissing. which, you know, she couldn’t exactly DEFEND. that was pretty incriminating. 

when he Dad asked her about the pictures, she tried to deny it. said it wasn’t serious but Johnny had gone to Midtown, graduated when she was a freshman. and he KNEW Peter Parker and, more to the point, knew that she had a crush on Peter freshman year because he always caught her staring. 

it turned into a whole thing. MJ jumped on her brother’s back and they started fighting like they had when they were babies. only their father’s BOOMING voice telling them to “KNOCK IT OFF” stopped the two from ripping each other’s hair out. 

MJ sat down at the kitchen table and kicked Johnny in the shin once more for posterity before her Dad announced, “bring him by, MJ. I wanna meet this boyfriend.” but from his tone, MJ didn’t really believe that was true. 

when she told Peter he was thrilled. his eyes wrinkled from the wattage of his smile and she wanted to kick him, so instead she pecked his cute mouth. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet your Dad,” he beamed. “don’t get so excited.” “I am excited. I didn’t really know Johnny when he went here. and…we never go to your house MJ. I was starting to think…” “think what?” “you were embarrassed of me.” her expression softened and she kissed his sweet mouth again, “loser. be there at 7 tonight. like seriously, 7 sharp. no internship stuff. you can’t be late.” “I won’t be.”

SO NATURALLY, Peter was late. thirty minutes late to be exact. and with every minute he was late, MJ could feel her father’s fury growing and growing. 

when Peter finally knocked on the door, he was frazzled and had some dirt on his face. MJ tried to wipe it off with the back of her hand and hissed, “what the hell, Parker?” “train went off the tracks near the zoo. had to help.” “you’re so dead.” “I know, I’m sorry.” 

AND THEN PETER DID THE STUPIDEST THING TO EVER STUPID. he gave her a quick kiss in the doorway. 

when they parted Jonah was standing in BIGGER ANGER behind his daughter. Peter had the good sense to pale and he extended his hand, “hello sir. sorry I’m late. my train…had an accident. near the zoo.” 

but Jonah remained dead silent and did not shake Peter’s outstretched hand. Johnny sidestepped his Dad and took the hand Peter offered, shaking it, “sup, Parker. you look a little frazzled, man.” “train accident,” Peter repeated. 

MJ rolled her eyes but suggested, “dinner?” her Dad gruffly nodded and went to sit down. Johnny snickered at her and she threw a shoe at his head. and Peter gave her the sweetest, most apologetic smile, “I am sorry.” “yeah, yeah. I know. shut up and go sit down.”

the rest of dinner was tense. Jonah didn’t speak a word. and Johnny desperately tried to fill the silence by grilling Peter about everything from his grades to his family to his opinions on social justice and politics. his answers were good and MJ had the fleeting thought that she had taught him well. 

her father did finally talk when Peter mentioned the “stark internship”. “Stark?” Jonah sat up, “as in Tony Stark?” “yes, sir,” Peter said immediately with a hitch to his voice, “I work in his-” “you know that he’s one of those superpeople, yes?” Jonah interrupted. Peter swallowed thick, “I do, sir.” “and you’re comfortable working with a man that has no regard for the safety of civilians.” “I don’t think that’s true. Mr. Stark cares very much, sir. he does what he does to protect the little guy.” “if that were true why are so many civilians dead at every Avengers site?” 

MJ saw Peter’s eyes darken in the way that they only did when he thought about the Infinity Wars. it was almost haunted. “all due respect, sir, war is messy.” Jonah huffed, “what do you know of war? what are you? 16?” “I’m 18, sir,” Peter did not back down, “and I live in New York City. I’ve experienced what happens when aliens touch down in our city.” “that doesn’t make you a soldier, boy.” “no, but I do know that without the Avengers a lot more people in New York City would have died. maybe the whole city.” “the aliens wouldn’t be coming to earth if it weren’t for these superhumans.” “I don’t believe that, sir.” 

“OKAY!” MJ pipped up, “Dad, you’re done. and Peter, I think its time you go.” “yea,” Jonah sat back, lounging, “I think that’s best.”

Peter worked his jaw but did not argue. MJ walked him to the door and started whispering to him, “he was at the accords. he got hurt. he’s got a personal stake against the Avengers. don’t take it personally.” Peter blinked, “you know why I can’t do that.” and MJ did. he was an Avenger after all. she pressed forward giving him an indulgent kiss, “I don’t care if he doesn’t like you. I do.” Peter’s tense shoulders relaxed, “you don’t hate the Avengers, right?” “no,” she shook her head, “I love one of them. so not liking them would be tough.” 

AND PETER GAWKED AT HER. because she had never said the l-word in front of him before. before he could reply she pushed him out of her front door and smiled, “see you tomorrow, Parker.” he opened his mouth to speak but she closed the door in his face.

when she got back to the dinner table, both her brother and her father were silent. she put her hands on her hips and demanded, “wanna explain yourselves, Dad jerk and brother jerk?” “I don’t like him,” Jonah grumbled. “well, I do. so get over it.” 

the next day, at school Peter approached MJ at her locker and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “hey,” he grinned so broadly. MJ rolled her eyes, “what?” “noooothing,” his grin turned to a smirk. “oh shut up,” she mumbled. Peter tugged his arm around MJ’s waist and whispered, “I love you, too, you know.”