#gotta get my scattered brain together

[deoidesign]

Adam's pose really giving woe... nonbinary be upon ye

[thepastdied]

No Filter

eddie munson x fem!reader FLUFF

18+ because some sexual themes. Overall, just fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Eddie is drunk and whiny because he's jealous of Steve. Not my gif. Would have tagged if I knew.

part 2 out now

A heavy arm clad in leather slumped around your shoulders.

You turned your head and were met with your alcohol reeking best friend, Eddie.

"Well helllllloo there, pretty girl. Come here often?" He winked at you, eyes hazy and body swaying.

"Eddie, this is my house." You laughed through your nose and wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

Music thumped throughout your house, and people were scattered in each corner. You weren't necessarily popular, but it was you and Eddie's idea to throw a party so he could make some quick cash. With the help of King Steve, of course. Seeing how he was already drunk, he must have already made his rounds. Unfortunately you had to work and didn't arrive until around 9 pm, about 3 hours into the party. Eddie was absolutely wasted and probably was on something else, too. You never knew with him.

"Steve.. the fuck is in this?" You took a sip of your drink and cringed. He laughed and shrugged, taking a sip and mirroring your reaction.

"Huh." Eddie huffed next to you, eyes narrowing and darting back and forth between you two.

"Should we whip together a new punch? May have put a little bit too much rum in this one." Steve pinched his thumb and pointer finger together, taking a couple steps back in the direction of your kitchen.

You were about to follow him when Eddie's arm tightened around you, leather squeaking against your shoulder. You looked at him quizzically when he let out a whiny groan.

"Eddie.. What's up? Do you feel okay?" He pulled his arm off you so that you could face him.

His cheeks were flushed and eyes hooded as he gazed down at you.

"Jus' want you to stay with me 's all.." He clumsily placed a hand on your waist and pulled you toward him. "You always gotta be aroun' King Steve… hmph." His lips turned down into a pout.

Your brain short circuited and you stared at him trying to piece together what's making him so mopey. Of course you were often around Steve. Though he hasn't asked you out yet, there was definitely something going on between you two.

You nervously laughed and gripped the front of his leather jacket as he stumbled back a bit. Your head was getting fuzzy yourself and you wished you were able to think a bit clearer.

"I think you should take a rest, Eds.." Your eyes trailed around the living room, pushing him toward the half empty sofa.

His fingers tightened on your waist as he was about to sit down and you pulled yourself from his grip gently. His lips turned down even more and he slumped his shoulders before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Fine. Go with your new boyfriend 'cause he's just s' cool with his cool hair and his cool coolness." He waved you off as he dramatically crossed his arms like a kid and huffed.

"Stop being a baby. I'll be right back." You gave him a deadpan expression and stuck your tongue out, tapping your shoe against his before going into the kitchen.

Steve was sitting on the counter with his arms crossed, various bottles of liquor, mixers, and other drinks littered across your island table.

"Soo.." He kicked himself off the counter to stand beside you, eyes scanning over all the ingredients.

"Is Eddie alright?" He itched the back of his neck as his eyes peeked through the doorway to where Eddie sat, still grumpy but now playing with a glowstick that someone left on the coffee table. Him and Steve were friends, actually, but he was so blasted that he was letting his feelings show a little too much.

"He's fine.." You laughed, shaking your head. "Such a big baby."

You both made the new punch and talked about random stuff, almost an hour passing before Eddie waddled in the kitchen.

"You two lovebirds done yet? I'm thirsty." He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, seemingly a little less drunk than before as he scowled at Steve.

You gave him an annoyed look at his comment before filling a cup and handing it to him, which he just took from you and set it on the counter.

He stared at Steve with his tongue in his cheek before kissing his teeth and grabbing his cup before disappearing again.

You opened your mouth to call for him as Steve put a hand on your shoulder.

"You should uh.. go check on him." He nodded his head toward the door.

You clenched your teeth as you weaved in and out of people. You were pissed, to say the least, because it felt like you were babysitting instead of enjoying the party. It took you almost twenty minutes to find Mr. Crankypants laying in your backyard. You trudged over to him, fists clenched by your sides and the water bottle you were holding crunching in your grip.

"Eddie, what is wrong with you?" You looked down at him, crossing your arms.

His eyes left the stars and met yours, widening as he stuck an arm up and pointed at you.

"Ah! My favorite star just appeared!!" He yelled, hand flapping in excitement.

You struggled to keep the scowl on your face, failing miserably as Eddie beamed at you, laughing at himself.

You sighed as he stood up, dusting himself off and eyes looking into yours fondly.

"You okay?" You stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm.

He let himself fall forward and stuffed his face into your neck, arms clenching around your waist.

"Woa-"

"Miss you, sweetheart.." He mumbled, lips brushing up against your neck.

"You're the one who ran off, silly." You hugged him tighter.

"Y-yeah but…" His voice cracked and you pinched your eyebrows together.

"Don' go with him, please." Eddie stuffed his face further into your neck when you tried to pull away.

You'd never been this close before, aside from his side hugs.

"What are you talking about, Eddie." You whispered.

He sighed, hot breath warming your throat. You pulled back and looked into his eyes, waiting for an explanation.

"Uhm.." He furrowed his eyebrows and puckered his lips.

"What're we talking about?" He quirked an eyebrow up. "Too much vodka-"

You rolled your eyes and pinched his cheek.

"Eddie. You don't want me around Steve." You blurted out, patience wearing thin.

His mouth opened and closed, lips turning downward and eyes glazing over with tears. You gasped and put your hands up.

"H-hey, it's fine- we don't have to talk about it." You hurriedly tried to change the subject.

He bowed his head down and sniffled as a tear rolled down his nose. Your heart sank when you tried to grab his hand, his whole body shrinking away from you. You said his name again but he only shook his head, huffing as more tears came out.

"Jus' wish I had a chance 's all." He hiccuped and angrily wiped his face with his sleeve, hair covering his face from your view. "- don't know how t'do this sorta thing like him." Another sniffle escaped him as he stepped further away from you.

The lump in your throat grew as you realized what the problem here was. He liked you and didn't want you to go with Steve. You mentally slapped yourself for being so blind to it.

You hopped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward you and walking further into your yard, away from the several nosey eyes that were in Eddie.

You pushed his hair from his face, all wet due to his tears. He felt so embarrassed, confessing his feelings in this drunken state. But he just couldn't control what came out of his mouth. This wasn't planned. He never intended to tell you, was going to let you be with Steve because he knew deep down he was better for you. His low self esteem was what truly kept him from actually asking you out.

Your own eyes watered when you saw his tear stained face. His eyelashes soaked with fresh tears, face red and puffy. He took a deep breath and swallowed the saliva that collected in his mouth before lifting his hand to take a sip of his drink.

You giggled when his eyes quizzically looked at his empty hand and head turned to see his cup empty on the ground. His eyes met yours again, pinching at the corners as he lazily smiled at you. You handed him the water bottle you'd been holding.

"I think we should talk about this when you're not drunk, okay?" You leaned your head forward to peek under his curtain of hair that he suddenly flicked in front of his face.

"Mhm.."

"But… don't be sad. We are on the same page here, okay? I.. I won't go to him. I know what you're trying to say." You gently whispered and sighed in relief when he simply nodded back.

You pulled him into a hug and he hummed as he let the water bottle fall to the ground, his heart hammering against your chest.

"Look so pretty tonight.." He mumbled as his arms snaked around your waist, lower than they had been before.

You felt tingles run throughout your body due to both the tone of his voice and the path his hands were on. Eddie's palms smoothed over your lower back as he pulled you in more, if that was even possible.

You hummed and thanked him for the compliment, your face feeling hot.

"-always look s'pretty. But never seen you in a dress like this before.." Your lower belly began to feel hot as his lips brushed against your neck while he talked. He could have moved his head so his chin was resting on your shoulder. He knew what he was doing.

"T-thank you, Eds.." You gulped and his eyes shot open, smirking as he continued moving his hands.

"Hmm.. love it when you call me that." You could feel his teeth in your neck now, mouth fully on your skin as he spoke.

Your breath hitched when he placed the most gentle kiss behind your ear, lips barely touching your skin as they trailed down your neck and placed another peck before he sloppily began to mouth at the flesh there. He panted as he nibbled and kissed messily all over your neck, the night air feeling cool against your wet skin.

"E-eddie." You breathed out.

Eddie grunted and laughed when you tugged on his hair, pulling his head back. Your face felt like it was on fire and you were grateful it was dark.

"S-sorry." He snorted out a laugh nervously and started to shimmy off his jacket, getting annoyed when it got stuck on his arm. " s'hot out."

Your chest raised with each breath as you watched him. How the fuck could you even allow yourself to go out with someone else after the one you truly liked confessed to you? And he went at your neck like a fucking vampire-

"Mmm.. miss you." He croaked up at you, his voice weak from when he had been crying.

You blinked down at him to where he was now sitting, arms reaching out to you.

"Please don' go back to him." He pouted again and a laugh bubbled in your throat as you sat next to him.

"Well how am I supposed to after that?" You wiped a hand over your face and sighed.

He stared at you, eyes struggling to stay focused on yours when your neck was so visible.

"Need to do this side too-" He quickly scooted so his body was pressed against yours and latched his lips onto your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth and letting his tongue dart out.

"Eddie!" You gasped loudly as you pushed him away and laughed incredulously, slapping a hand over where you know a hickey is.

"Don't… don't tell me there's a mar-"

"Uh-huh there's mos' definitely a mark." He snickered at you and clumsily made his way onto his feet, eyes filled with lust as he watched you lick your lips and squeeze your thighs together. His legs stumbled a bit as he didn't have you to hang on to and he looked toward the house. Fuck, he was so hard.

"Gotta piss- be back in like.. fifteen." He held up 4 fingers.

You stifle a laugh and nod, wanting him to leave so you can fan your face. You were fucking sweating.

" 'f I wasn't so drunk… hmph." He put two fingers down out of the four he still had up and made a V, sticking his tongue out and obnoxiously laughing when you covered your face at the gesture.

" 'm actually going to jack off, I lied-"

"Eddie! Can you please leave!!" You laid on your back and covered your face, still laughing.

"Alright alright, sorry- no filter right now, sweetheart."

Your friendship will definitely never be the same.

Next part (18+) ->

updated 5/5

[crheativity]

SUMMARY: Someone's picked a fight with Prefect! But he isn't going to let anyone hurt you anymore. Not on his watch. Part 1! Part 2 with Vil and Silver can be found here.

WARNINGS: Uhhh Prefect (you) gets hit in the face & your nose bleeds. also blackmail.

COMMENTS: I actually wanted to write this firstly for some of my moots! I was gonna write more of their favourites but it accidentally got too long to put in one post, so I'm planning on making a part 2 tomorrow. Anyway, @azulashengrottospiano and @i-like-forgs, enjoy!!

It must be raining.

You were just out in a storm. That’s all.

That would explain the crack of thunder that collided with your face and gave you a throbbing headache. The warm liquid blurring your vision and dripping out of your mouth and nose was just the rain, not some unholy mix of blood and tears. The chills that froze you where you stood was just humidity and the cold, not adrenaline and raw fear.

And yet, even with your desperate brain trying to come up with some reasonable explanation, the only thunderstorm you could see in front of you was a student you couldn’t recognise. Not with your head pounding like this. Not with the thunder in your ears.

There was something about the boy that scared you. That wasn’t uncommon - this school was full of terrifyingly promising mages. But the scariest thing wasn’t how he wielded his magical pen with deadly accuracy, or how strong he so evidently was.

It was just how much he seemed to be enjoying the mix of horror and pain, of blood and tears, that must have been so evidently and delicately splashed across your face.

His smile twisted as he raised his pen again, something in those cruel eyes of his setting off alarm signals in your aching head.

“This’ll teach you not to meddle where you don’t belong.”

The pen glowed, pure magic surrounding it as he prepared to shoot. His sadistic eyes were alight with entertainment. He knew what he was about to do. He didn’t care.

You squeeze your eyes shut and braced for the lightning.

A chuckle and an arm wrapping around your waist made your eyes snap back open.

“C’mon babe, gotta run!”

Pulling you by the waist, the boy broke into a run. You stumbled for a minute, but soon followed after. He released your waist but gently took your hand, tugging you along, urging you to be faster.

A stray spell flew between the two of you.

The boy looked back, an uncharacteristic flash of annoyance creasing his brow.

He caught your eye and winked.

“Split card!”

A second boy seemed to appear next to you. He was an exact copy of the first - the same stylishly ruffled orange hair, the same piercing emerald eyes, the same practiced, perfect smile.

The same red diamond under his right eye.

“Hey, keep ‘em busy for me!”

“You got it, king.” The second boy - the product of Cater Diamond’s unique magic - winked at you. He planted his feet, whirled around and started to cast spell after spell at your assailant.

The real Cater Diamond pulled you along, into the school building. Together you ran, through corridor after corridor, passing empty classroom after empty classroom.

Finally, he slowed to a stop in front of a classroom you’d never seen before. Glancing around and putting his finger in front of his mouth in a shushing motion, he grinned at you.

“In here.”

He held open the door for you, shutting it behind the both of you as you looked around. There were all different kinds of instruments and sheet music scattered around, along with an abandoned satchel. You saw at least one set of drums, along with two electric guitars and one acoustic, amps, even some microphones and music stands.

You supposed this was the Light Music Club’s room.

Cater winced, scratching his nape. “My bad, forgot it was so messy here. Whoever that was won’t find us here, though!” He grinned at you, his smile fading when he noticed the condition you were in.

He took both of your hands and, holding you as though you were made of glass, led you over to an amp. He gently pushed you onto it. It was not the most comfortable thing to sit on, but that was not what you were focusing on.

How could it be?

Cater Diamond was standing in front of you. He glowed like the sun wherever he went, commanding your attention and leaving you blinded.

If he ever called you, you would gladly follow.

The light faded a little as he let go of your hands and stepped away. He walked over to the discarded bag on the ground and started rummaging through it.

“There’s gotta be something… aha, #jackpot!” Pulling out a packet of tissues, he made his way back over to you. Pulling out a tissue, he smiled hesitantly. “Do you mind if I…?”

You blinked. You had forgotten about the pounding in your head, which started to come back with a vengeance. Putting one hand to the side of your head, you gestured for him to go ahead.

He stood just in front of you, one hand cupping your face, the other gently trying to clean as much of the blood off as possible. He didn’t say anything as he went about his work, but there was a look in his eyes as he worked. One filled with kindness and empathy, soft enough to make your heart skip a beat.

He stepped back and, crossing his arms as though to survey his handiwork, he nodded satisfactorily. “The blood on your shirt will be hard to wash off, but the bleeding from your nose has stopped.” He gave you a strained - albeit gentle - smile.

You nodded and placed your hands in your lap, studying them instead of meeting the gentle emerald eyes you could feel searching you.

“Prefect…” he started, the hesitancy in his voice evident. He cautiously sat next to you and you glanced up at him. “Is- are you okay?”

You closed your eyes and leaned into him. He startled a little at your touch, then wrapped his arm around you. “I am now.”

“My my, what have we here?”

“What… the hell?!”

That voice… wait, it couldn’t be-

Blinking rapidly to rid your eyes of the tears, you registered three things.

First, and most obvious, was that the thunderstorm was being contained.

Easily.

I mean, the new arrival held him as easily as a newborn kitten for goodness’ sake. He looked almost as twisted as your assailant, with pure glee in his yellow and olive-brown eyes, his wide grin revealing sharp, pointed teeth. He was evidently enjoying the student’s squirming.

“Got him! I wanna squeeze him ‘til he pops~”

The second thing you registered was the hand resting on your shoulder.

Looking up, you noticed another boy, practically a mirror image of the first. One hand was resting protectively on your shoulder, his other hiding his smile. He looked a lot calmer than the first, but his eyes - the exact opposite of his brother’s - betrayed him. The air around him was crackling with excited energy.

“Not yet, Floyd. I believe that Azul has something he wishes to say to him first.”

“Boo. Hurry up.” Wait.

Azul?

Looking around, you finally registered the third - and final - new arrival. Azul Ashengrotto, the head of the Mostro Lounge, was strolling towards the boy. There was something about him that was different. His curly hair caught the sun, making the silvery colour feel akin to pure, vivid white, as though it was glowing. From this angle, you couldn’t see the face you’d studied so many times - his enchanting grey eyes, or the beauty mark just below his mouth.

There was nothing physically different. So what was wrong?

Ah, that was it. He was angry.

“Do not fret, Floyd.” He stopped in front of the boy, directly in front of you. “You’ll get your chance soon enough.”

“Wh-… what the hell is wrong with you?!” The student shouted, twisting and scratching at Floyd’s arm in a desperate attempt to free himself.

“Wanna find out?” Floyd squeezed the boy tighter and he yelped.

“No! No thank you!”

“Well, at least you have some manners.” Azul drawled.

“What do you want from me?”

“This won’t take long.” Azul fished out some photos from his pocket and showed him. “Do you know who this is?”

“H-… how did you-?!”

“Unimportant.” He waved off the question as though it was simply one about the weather. “However, I believe that it would be in your best interests to leave the Prefect alone now.” “Hah… you’re trying to blackmail me?”

“Blackmail is such an ugly word. I am simply offering you a way out.”

“A way out?” The boy scoffed.

“Certainly. I believe if your mother saw these photos, you would be in a great deal of trouble, would you not? If I am correct, you promised her you’d be on your best behaviour this year. After all, one more incident could be enough for an expulsion, with a track record such as yours.”

“Hey-!”

“It’d be a shame for the school to lose such a promising mage. How about you meet with me in the VIP room tomorrow around 4 o’ clock tomorrow? We can discuss things in more… detail… then.”

The boy glowered but said nothing.

Azul sighed. “I’m a man of my word. As long as no harm will come to the prefect, no harm will come to you in the meantime.”

“Fine.” The boy spat.

“Very well, we have a deal then.” Azul took a step back. “Let him go, Floyd.”

“But he hurt Shrimpy! I don’t wanna~”

“Floyd. There will be plenty of opportunities in the future.”

Floyd complained loudly, but let the boy go. He smoothed his jacket, glaring daggers at you and Azul in turn. Then he whirled around and stormed off.

Three pairs of eyes now turned to you.

You blinked in return.

“Shrimpyyy~!” Floyd bounded over to you and squeezed you in a rib-cracking hug. “Did the bad man hurt you? Don’t worry, you’re with us now, Shrimpy!”

“Give them some air, Floyd.” Jade said and tugged Floyd’s shoulder, attempting to pull him away from you.

“Nooo-“

“Are you alright, Prefect?” Azul asked. He sounded worried.

Floyd and Jade exchanged conspiratorial smirks and Floyd let you go. There was blood on his jacket from where your head had rested against him.

The realness of what just happened began to set in. The pounding sensation in your head came back with a vengeance. “I-…” the world began to spin around you, and Azul grabbed you, panic in his eyes. You felt your legs buckle and he caught you smoothly. “Sorry- I just-“

“It’s quite alright. I will stay with you as long as you need.” Azul reassured you, although you didn’t - couldn’t - miss the quiver in his voice or the pink dusting his face. He pulled out a handkerchief and put it to your face. You took it and applied pressure to your nose, angling your head downwards in order to stop the bleeding, as Azul hesitantly rubbed patterns into your back to help you feel better. The sensation made you feel warm.

With a smile, you realised it wasn’t storming anymore. The sun had finally come out.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[stuckysbike]

More Than One Valentine

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Stucky x Reader, Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader

AU: you finally get Steve and Bucky together- now you need to work out what to do with yourself abs your broken heart.

Warnings: angst, smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, FWB situation, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky, Dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, switch!reader

-

Bucky and Steve finally shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day.

It was a bittersweet moment for you; you’d been trying to get them together for too long and now you had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

In a twisted and complicated situation you’d ended up as a FWB to both of them. It started with Bucky, a wet night with only his leather coat for shelter turned into desperate kissing and more. Then three months later he was on a mission and Steve had come in from a date in a terrible headspace.

You called Bucky because you didn’t know what else to do. Bucky’s advice was to screw Steve’s brains out.

“What?” You stuttered.

“He gets too into his head, you gotta’ help him clear it out doll,” Bucky said in that gruff tone.

“I - but - we-“

“Go ahead. I don’t mind sharing our arrangement with Stevie. Always shared everything with him anyway, you’re no different,” Bucky said as if you were an old coat or a favourite book.

It hurt, deep in your gut like a hand twisting it savagely, but you brushed it aside. You were just a couple of friends who tamed an itch. Bucky probably did it with lots of girls and guys. You weren’t his only one. You couldn’t be.

So you fell into a routine with them. If Steve had any reservations he didn’t share them and his mood changed, not just that night but overall. He was lighter, different like he had a plan again.

It was obvious they were in love, that they wanted each other. Everyone could see it, especially you. You spent most time with them, you saw the subtle touches, kind words and gentle gestures. You would find them making each other breakfast, or always making sure the other one was drinking enough water.

And the sex was …even? You never spent more time with one over the other. You went from one to the other than back.

Sometimes you didn’t even get to shower; after a night with Steve Bucky would drag you to his room in the morning to taste you while Steve went on a run. Sometimes Steve would come in after a long stint of being Captain America and bury his face in you pussy moments after Bucky had went to his own room.

“I can’t take it. They’re ruining my vagina,” you complained to Nat one evening after too many cocktails. The and my heart was left unspoken but you both knew it.

Nat had laughed anyway because in that moment you both needed to laugh. “Set them up.” She poured another drink. She wasn’t even following recipes any longer. It was shots of hard liquor that burned in the best way.

So you did, you made sure the floor you all shared was off limits, you lit candles and played soft music, dimmed the lights. You got your hands on some Asgardian Champagne, scattered rose petals and made sure both their bedrooms had ample supplies of lube and toys.

You made sure your own room had noise cancelling headphones, snacks and a queue of your favourite shows all lined up to make sure you didn’t think too much. Or hear too much.

You should have prepared for a broken heart.

Here they were after confessing their love and finally kissing as they stood in front of the massive windows. You were on the couch, you needed to start them off, convince them to take the leap, but as soon as they got lost in each other you stood and slipped away.

At least you tried to.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, his voice small and vulnerable.

You froze and looked over your shoulder. They were both looking your way, faces unreadable.

“To give you both some privacy,” you said quietly.

“But we need to thank you,” Bucky’s voice was equally soft.

You offered them a smile, it was genuine because you were happy for them, you just realised too damn late that you’d fallen for both of them.

They walked towards you, a pair of supersoldiers, one beefy the other sculpted. One dark the other light.

Two pairs of blue eyes burned into your skin. You felt like crying, because it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen and all they were going to do was hug you then get on with their lives.

Bucky caught your hand and pulled you towards his body but he turned you so your back was to his chest.

“Say thank you Stevie,” he growled.

Steve immediately dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his pink lips as they pressed into yours. He pulled away after the kiss that was not just friendly. “Thank you.” He had that sincere look, the honest voice.

Your heart broke a little more.

And then Bucky was turning you in his arms and looking down at you. Steve’s big hands rested on your hips as he held you in place for Bucky. Bucky was rougher than Steve, his lips pressed you harder more demanding making you weak at the knees.

Where Steve asked Bucky took.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Now where were we?”

And they started kissing over your shoulder. They moved close crushing your body between theirs, hands holding you still as they explored each others mouths.

You gasped and tried to slip away but you were trapped. You tried harder only for them to part and Bucky looked at you with hard eyes.

“Stop squirming doll, I’m kissing on my fella and you’re distracting me. You’ll get your turn.” You gaped up at Bucky but his focus was back on Steve. “Come ‘ere you.”

You could hear the wet noises of their kisses, could feel their physical reactions as you stood trapped between their hard bodies.

When they pulled apart for air you found yourself turned back to Steve and he was kissing you, desperate now as he licked into your mouth. He let out a needy moan as he lifted you and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Bucky growled. His hands were on your hips and ass and it took you a moment to realise you were moving towards Steve’s bedroom.

Steve fell back on his bed and looked up at you with doe eyes, lips parted and pure trust. And something else you couldn’t place. You were straddling his waist when the bedroom door clicked shut.

“Don’t mind me,” Bucky sat on the chair in the corner, and you looked between them. Maybe this was one last night with them, and you would make it count before they got on with the rest of their lives without you.

In the bedroom Steve was submissive. It had surprised you at first; but it made sense. Steve carried the universe on his shoulders sometimes so it was natural that he’d want to forget. So you were what he needed you to be. You took charge, took care of him, made it so that he didn’t need a plan or a rousing speech in the bedroom.

Bucky was dominant, that didn’t surprise you at all. He needed control, where he’d been tortured before now he thrived in giving pleasure in making decisions, on taking care of his lovers. You let him take care of you, you basked in and enjoyed it. You loved the attention.

And you were the perfect switch between them giving each of them what they needed.

You bit your lip, nerves running through you but you pushed it aside to try and enjoy one last night with them both.

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green!” Steve said urgently.

“Steve, take your clothes off,” you said. Steve immediately sat up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, looking between you and Bucky but you clicked your tongue and Steve’s eyes flew to you. “Eyes on me baby, you have him all to yourself soon enough.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched and Bucky shifted in his chair but you stayed still watching Steve. He folded his shirt then toed his shoes off, and as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops he looked down at you, holding it between big hands.

Bucky sucked in a breath as you nodded and Steve set the belt on the bed for later. He sat and removed his socks then his pants.

Once upon a time his cheeks would have been red by this point but Steve had gotten past that, he trusted you and with his attention on you the fact that Bucky was sitting right there didn’t even phase him.

His boxer briefs were navy blue, and it was obvious he was aroused by the whole situation. He looked at you as he thumbed the waistband.

“Won’t be much fun with them on will it Soldier?” You teased and his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink before he started to push them down. “Eyes on me.” You reminded him and his confidence returned.

And then Steve was naked, standing tall and proud and fully erect. You looked at Bucky and he was watching the two of you with something that looked like pride.

“Why don’t you get your ring, plug and the lube?” You suggested to Steve.

Bucky groaned and you glanced over at him as Steve scrambled across the bed to grab what he wanted from underneath. “Do you want to cut in?”

Bucky smiled, warm and genuine and for a second your breath caught. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not yet. I’m dying to see where this goes.”

When you turned back to the bed Steve was kneeling in the middle, eyes wide and wet lips parted. “You look like a horny puppy.” You told him and it made him laugh.

You didn’t say anything else as you removed your clothes and Steve settled down to watch you, waiting patiently with his hands in his lap.

When you got to your bra and panties you hesitated but Bucky’s soft voice rang in your ears. “All of it.”

You looked over at him, making eye contact to acknowledge you’d heard him then nodded, holding his gaze.

You removed your bra, then panties and Steve let out a gentle moan.

“On your back baby,” you told Steve. He complied immediately and lay back, spreading his long legs so you could settle between his thighs. He handed you a pillow and you thanked him with a kiss to the lips then helped him place it under his hips. “Do you want your belt?”

Steve nodded eagerly and you handed it to him. Steve lay back with his arms stretched above his head holding the belt in his hands.

“Colour?” You checked.

“Green,” Steve said.

“Steve is such a good boy that he stays like that until he’s told to move,” you told Bucky. “Well, most of the time.”

Bucky laughed softly and you drew your focus back to Steve. Bending you kissed his thighs, nipping at sensitive skin. As you moved closer Steve moaned and gasped until finally you were pressing a chaste kiss to the base of his cock.

You kissed lower until your tongue reached his tightly furled ass, and then with wet licks you proceeded to help him relax. You didn’t notice Bucky get out of his chair, not until you saw the black vibranium hand resting on Steve’s knee.

You pulled away and looked up at him. “Too much for you?”

“Christ Dolly you’re killing me,” Bucky’s voice was rough with arousal.

You giggled and got back to your task. It wasn’t long before you were sitting up and drizzling lube on your fingers. You warmed it up then pressed two against his puckered hole.

“The lube is edible and flavoured. Steve likes his asshole eaten,” you said conversationally to Bucky.

Steve whined and you grinned up at him. You shuffled closer and took the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking the pre-cum and sucking the skin as you curled your fingers. Steve cried out and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose as he filled your throat. You loved this, Steve at your mercy as you pleasured him.

When you finally felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose you pulled back and reached for the cock ring. “He doesn’t really need this, he has a refractory period just like yours but sometimes he’s over eager. He can get…messy.”

Steve moaned softly, hearing you talk about him as if he wasn’t there was driving him insane in the best way.

“You know him well,” Bucky praised. He was right behind you now looking over your shoulder, still fully clothed apart from his shoes and socks. You hadn’t noticed him taking them off.

You reached for the plug next, it was a smaller one, black, with a flared base. It slipped in easily but Steve moaned and arched his back. You turned it slowly and watched his chest heave.

“How do you feel?” You asked Steve.

He nodded and met your eyes. “I feel yeah-“

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green,” Steve practically slurred.

You chuckled and then settled back onto your haunches. Bucky looked at you curious for your next move.

“He’s all yours,” you whispered looking up at him.

A big hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you softly. “He’s all ours Doll.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you wished that were true but you pushed the hope away. This was about getting them together. Nothing else.

Bucky kissed you, his movements lazy but dominating and he gripped your soft skin. His hand slipped between your legs and you’d been able to ignore your needs until now but as soon as his fingertip brushed your slick puffy lips you sighed and leaned into Bucky. His other hand moved to your hair and he fisted it just enough to pull your head back. “I’m so proud of you. Watching you with Steve, so proud of both of you.”

You felt the blood warm your cheeks at his praise and snuggled against him.

“Now, I’m going to undress. I want you to get a reward for being so good to Stevie, what do you say Steve?” Bucky asked easily taking over the room.

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, baby, sit on my face?”

“Yeah, I want to see that. Go sit on his face baby,” Bucky kissed you again. You did as he asked, turning so you could watch him. Steve didn’t let go of the belt as his tongue dove inside your folds, lapping and sucking at your juices.

Steve moaned and Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you. “Hovering baby girl? That’s against the rules,” Bucky warned.

Steve moaned again and you chuckled, giving Bucky a bright smile. “I know he’s been good, but he has to earn it,” you teased.

Bucky smiled softly and removed his black boxer briefs and then he was kneeling between Steve’s spread legs. He skimmed his fingers along the sensitive skin on Steve’s thighs and you could see Steve tremble. You close that moment to rest your full weight on him for a few seconds, knowing he needed it.

His moans vibrated through you and then Bucky was kissing you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Bucky touched Steve and every time he cried out or trembled you rested your weight onto him, calming him.

And then Bucky was bringing the plug out, replacing it with his fingers. His eyes flicked up to you as Steve sucked on your clit.

“Cum baby,” Bucky said. You didn’t even know you were waiting for permission. You cried out as your release washed through you, making your toes curl. As you came down from your high Bucky kissed you. “Now go clean him up.”

You moved fast, straddling Steve’s tummy and kissing over his face, licking into his mouth. You were so busy kissing Steve you almost missed the deep groan he let out. Two hands, one warm and one cold lifted your hips and then Steve’s cock was sliding snugly into your soaked cunt.

“I’m going to fuck both of you now,” Bucky warned.

“Please Bucky,” you whined.

Bucky’s hand slid into your hair and he grabbed a thick fistful as he pulled you back against his chest.

“Look at you,” Bucky growled in your ear as his other hand slid around your throat. His nimble fingers trailed your body, plucking at your nipples, squeezing soft flesh, tickling your hips and exploring the area where you and Steve were joined. “Our perfect girl.”

“Bucky,” you turned to him squeezing your thighs. Beneath you Steve grunted as you squeezed his cock, his eyes never leaving you and Bucky.

“Colour?” Bucky asked you.

“So fuckin’ green!” You said.

“Stevie, baby I need you to hold onto her, make sure she has some support. Hands up,” he said.

Steve let go of the belt and raised his hands, palms up and fingers wide. “Good boy baby,” Bucky praised. You reached out and pressed your palms to Steve’s, let your fingers tangle and lock together.

Steve tested the pressure, moving you slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle as he practically used you as a weight, lowering you to kiss his lips then pushing you back to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky let out a soft laugh at the two of you and hooked his chin over your bare shoulder. “Show off,” he said to Steve. Steve, in a happy headspace blew him a kiss.

Bucky started off gentle, his thrusts going through Steve and into you. Bucky was taking his time, working out this new position as he managed both of you.

His hands returned to your body, his fingers strumming over your body. He knew every nerve, knew what made you sigh and squeal, what relaxed you and what wound you up.

With a palm on your back he pushed you forward until you were lying on Steve’s chest. His right hand gripped your butt cheek, moulding the flesh and you knew it was coming but you still yelped.

Steve grunted, you were squeezing his cock again. “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” Bucky’s voice cut through your brain fog and you nodded.

“I broke a rule,” you slurred. Steve kissed your cheek and forehead as he simply observed. “I hovered.”

Bucky grunted in agreement and a few more slaps landed on you. “You had a good reason though so I think that’ll do.”

Bucky’s hands moved over your back as he curled over you both. His right hand cupped Steve’s cheek. Kissing each other in this position would be impossible so he ran his thumb over Steve’s lips. Steve opened his mouth and sucked Bucky’s thumb in. Bucky groaned at the sight and the sensation.

“You good there Sweetheart?” Bucky asked him.

Steve’s smile was dopey, despite Bucky’s digit in his way and he nodded, his eyes shining. “Never better.”

The words were garbled but easily understood none the less. As Bucky pulled away he kissed your cheek.

Bucky started to thrust again and you moved back to sit on Steve, that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel the cock ring. Bucky must have removed it from Steve and you were grateful because you didn’t think you had the ability to remove it at this point. You were a soft Dom, you didn’t like delaying or preventing orgasms, you were too needy yourself.

You kissed Steve’s chest and face as Bucky fucked him and Steve sobbed into your mouth when your lips met. Bucky’s movements were getting more aggressive and Steve was gasping and thrashing in pleasure.

“Is he good?” You prompted.

“So good, I’m - it’s - he’s amazing,” Steve said.

“Shush, baby hush, he’ll hear you and his ego will be insufferable,” you teased.

Bucky laughed, his hand sliding around your throat and pulling you back to his chest. “So rude,” he grunted as he kissed you, his fingers finally brushing over your clit.

Steve came first after you clenched around his cock, your body chasing Bucky’s fingers, and you followed a few moments behind him. The familiar stutter of Bucky’s breathing told you he’d found his release too.

“You two will be the death of me,” he said as he kissed your neck and shoulders and helped you untangle yourself from Steve.

A warm cloth was cleaning you, hands were moving you and you realised Steve was getting the same treatment as he sighed in contentment.

Bucky got into bed on the other side of Steve and smiled softly at you both.

“I should go,” you said suddenly.

“No!” They both said at once.

You shifted. “But I- this was about you two.”

Steve pulled you on top of him then rolled over, pinning you between him and Bucky. “Going nowhere.”

Bucky chuckled. “Darlin’ we’re crazy about you, if you haven’t noticed. I know you like to talk about feelings and stuff but we’re doing this my way. You’re my best girl, he’s my best guy, we’ll work it out from there.”

You opened your mouth but your words betrayed you so instead you snuggled into their arms and enjoyed their warmth. Maybe this could work, maybe the three of you could find peace.

“Besides,” Steve yawned, “you negate our stupid.”

You giggled. Bucky slid a leg between yours and rested his hand on Steve’s chest.

Meanwhile deep inside your own chest your heart sang.

[levandright]

i need a jay x reader (can be anything really, fic/drabble/hc whatever is easiest) where he's courting the reader the filipino way to win her heart 😍 fluff plz. also please please please, add a part where he's singing us a song he wrote for us if yk what i mean ;)

THANK KEW IN ADVANCE LEV IF U MAKE IT<3 hope ur having a good day and don't forget to take care of urself pooks 💜

JAY — COURTING YOU

pairings : jay x f!reader 🎀 content / warning(s) : fluff, courting/harana, jay is a absolute gentleman, fluff, non-idol au 🎀 word count : 0.5k ・ archive ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : took me a while to do this cause my brain was out of creativity >.> hope you like this mootie <3

you and jay met through a mutual friend, and since that first encounter, he's been completely smitten with you.

the two of you hit it off from the start, and jay, with his growing and intense feelings for you day by day, confesses to you during a party hosted by your mutual friend.

you didn’t reject him; instead, you explained how you were unsure of your feelings. you knew him well enough to see he was a great guy—you just weren’t sure if you felt the same way yet.

he asks if you’ll let him court you, to win your heart through his efforts. with no complaints, you agree to this arrangement.

he makes a lasting impression the very next day, showing up at your door with a bouquet of roses in hand, asking if you’d like to join him for a date.

he takes you to a museum, where you stroll around the exhibits together, allowing him to get to know you even more deeply. afterward, he drives you home safely, the evening ending on a warm note.

that’s how the two of you fall into a routine: jay arrives at your door, taking you out on casual yet romantic dates, each outing another step in truly knowing each other.

two months pass by in a blur of shared moments and growing warmth between you. then, one fateful night, you receive a text from him, asking you to look out your window. you do just that, and there he is—your jay, standing in your front yard, guitar in hand, surrounded by flowers scattered all around, creating a scene so romantic you’ve only seen in movies.

as he strums his guitar and sings to you, butterflies erupt in your stomach, intensifying with every note. when he finishes, you head downstairs, to finally answer him.

he stands there bashfully, with his hands fidgetting behind him, waiting for you to say something. you give him a cheeky grin as you finally say what he's been wanting for you to say.

"i've gotta admit, you know how to make a girl feel special," you say, smiling. "i tried to take things slow, but you’ve completely won me over, jay. i’d be crazy not to want to be with you. so… consider this my 'yes.' you're officially my boyfriend."

jay’s eyes light up the moment he hears your answer, his smile widening as relief and happiness wash over his face.

without missing a beat, he closes the space between you, his voice soft but filled with excitement, "you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to hear that," he says, a hint of laughter breaking through. "i promise, i’ll make you happier than you can imagine."

in one smooth motion, he pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as if to make sure this moment is real, whispering, "thank you for giving me a chance… for letting me be yours."

as he pulls back just enough to look at you, there’s that familiar spark in his eyes, and with a teasing smile, he adds, "guess that makes me officially your boyfriend now, huh?"

you roll your eyes playfully at him as he repeats what you just said "yes, yes. you're now my boyfriend officially."

perm taglist.@honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!) requests. open!

©levandright

[watchtowerindistress]

for the love of ... bob? - jake seresin x reader (1/2)

Summary: Being Jake's (best) friend - sorry, Javy - proved to have its ups and downs but there was something about having him in your corner you couldn't resist. Jake and you just clicked on a deeper level. That's why you didn't get it when the Southern boy was acting so weird.-

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, Jake being an idiot (what else is new?), Jealous! + Soft!Jake, fluff

Author’s note: Just something fun I wanted to write. I kinda hate myself for not writing for Bradley first, since I love the guy. You know, Jake's fics I love to read, yet I couldn't stand him while watching Maverick. Go figure.

I haven't watched the film enough to distinguish the traits of the characters, so I can't guarantee for accuracy for the side characters. I can only include a handful of people - that's why I don't have people like Reuben in there since their character traits aren't included in the fandom page.

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @silenthappyplace @mrsevans90 @dempy @yourgirlypop (blank blogs can't be tagged)

Read me on AO3 | Series masterlist

“So, tell us all the details. Preferably, the humiliating kind,” Natasha asked with a curious air.

You smiled. “What about?”

“Hangman, of course.”

The Dagger Squad was the perfect company to be around, you decided. Jake, your childhood best friend, who you haven’t seen in years, offered The Hard Deck as the place for you to wait until he arrived. Video calls didn’t hold up to the real thing. Especially, with you two being very busy people and you finally getting out of New York to spend some quality time together.

“I need to get the embarrassing goods, at least before Hangman shows up. I mean, we have the perfect person to interrogate. In the rare instances, when he talks about something other than himself, Hangman keeps mentioning you,” she mused.

“Nat-” Bob interjected, who was sitting next to her in a booth while the rest of their squad were scattered in the bar.

Natasha turned her head. “Aren’t you a little bit curious about the depraved mind of Jake Seresin?”

“Not really.”

You snorted at their torn convictions when Mickey and Javy arrived at their table with bottles of beer.

“What did we miss?” Javy asked.

Natasha’s stubborn gaze didn’t stray from yours for many seconds. “I’m trying to crack Y/N.” Her eyes met Javy’s over her shoulder. “Tell Rooster he needs to stall him until I get to the good bits.”

You looked around speculatively. “Is this some sort of initiation or baptism by fire Jake should’ve warned me about?”

Javy offered a small reprieve. “Don’t mind her. She just wants to pick your brain. How long are you going to stay?”

“About a week. Enough time for Jake to show me around San Diego.”

Mickey took a gulp from his drink. “Good luck with that.”

Warm breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine when someone whispered into your ear, “Did I just hear my name?”

Your body jolted at hearing the unexpected voice. “Oh my God.” You turned and found a cheeky Jake standing behind you. “You little f- Don’t startle me like that!” Clambering out of the booth, you jumped into his arms, while giggling from the shock. “Hey, you,” you said, holding on tightly.

“Hey, yourself. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, darlin’.”

“You’re such a jerk,” you whispered into his neck.

Jake swayed you lightly. “You love when I’m a jerk.”

Leaning back, you pressed your fingers an inch apart. “Just a tad.” You hesitated. “Like about 10%.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Oh please. Talk about 75%. It’s part of my charm,” he murmured, stroking your lower back.

“Is this what you tell everyone here?” You teased, pointing to his colleagues behind you.

Javy’s scoff was joined by the others.

You looked back to see their reactions. “You know, I’m starting to really like your group of friends.” While turning back, you narrowed your eyes when you saw Jake glowering at the Dagger Squad before his expression turned into an innocent one.

“I’m starting to question your taste in people,” he said.

Someone snickered next to him. “That’s funny, … Hangman.”

Realizing that another person joined their company, you turned towards the man who looked vaguely familiar from the pictures Jake had sent you. Not to mention, you remembered Natasha’s remark from earlier that Jake would show up with someone else.

“Rooster, right?” You stepped away from Jake’s embrace and shook Bradley’s hand in greeting. Jake merely sighed and crossed his arms.

“Bradley’s fine.” He faced the rest of the group. “By the way, am I the only one that felt really awkward just standing here, watching those two?”

Mumbles echoed all around. “No, you’re not.” Still slightly by the display of the too-long-hug.

A sigh left Jake, who placed an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t listen to the others. And the words of the chicken shouldn’t be trusted. I hope those knuckleheads treated you right.”

You shrugged. “It was fun. I was this close to reveal your darkest secrets for a slice of a good ol’ fashioned apple pie made by … Phoenix, was it?”

“There’ll be no revealing. And no pie,” Jake interjected before pointing at Natasha. “You’ve already been in the company of Phoenix and the goon squad for less than an hour and Nat already found out your weakness for sweets,” he whispered against your neck. “At least you didn’t have to be subjected to the likes of Rooster here.” A shiver coursed through his body. “I shudder at the thought of you having to listen to him at first. He’ll probably want to talk about his caterpillar of a moustache.”

A languid smirk drew on Bradley’s lips as he stroked his mentioned facial hair. “Very funny. You jealous?”

You tilted your head at their teasing. “You have some weird fixation on Bradley’s facial hair. Didn’t you talk on the phone about-”

Abruptly, Jake took you by the hand and dragged you to the bar counter. “Let’s get some food into you. Your blood sugar’s getting awfully low. Someone’s getting tired already.”

“You’re being such a grump, Jake.”

Jake leaned against the counter. “I’m not. I’m just making sure you’re getting some nachos into you, darlin’.”

“You need to be nicer. We both know you’re more of a sweetheart than this.”

He rolled his eyes. “I have a reputation to uphold. And don’t let yourself be bribed by the others.” Jake turned to Penny. “A basket of nachos for this one, Penny?” You rolled your eyes at seeing Jake point at the top of your head.

There was something about Penny’s playful glance that warmed you upon first meeting. The woman nudged her head at Jake. “Be careful with this one.”

With mischief in your eyes, you stole a glance at him. “I know. This one … has been trouble for as long as I can remember.”

“Hey!” Jake uttered in mock outrage before he did introductions. “Penny, that’s Y/N. She’s my friend,” he said, placing his hand on your back.

“And here I thought I was your best friend.”

Jake hushed any further confessions, whispering, “But don’t tell Javy.”

You turned to Penny with a smile. “See? He’s such a big softie.”

Penny smirked. “I’m starting to. Where are you from?”

“Moved around a lot as a kid. Dad’s an Air Force pilot.” You waved towards him. “We grew up together in Texas. But I live in New York.”

Penny’s eyes lit up at the mention. “I’ll get you some cheese dip.”

“Thanks.”

Jake watched Penny wander off with a speculative gaze. “Someone’s making friends quickly.”

“It’s okay. I’ll teach you my ways,” you said only half-teasingly and stroked Jake’s arm. Your hand lingered on his muscles. Wait, were they flexing? “Woah, what happened to your arm, dude?”

Jake’s voice turned concerned. “Why? What’s wrong?”

There was something akin to awe in your voice. “Your bicep feels like it’s going to rip through your shirt.”

His shoulders were shaking when he chuckled. There was something about Jake turning his head to hide his blushing cheeks that stunned you even to this day. “You’re such a smartass.”

“I’m serious. Someone’s really working out, huh?” You mumbled to yourself, “This could make a girl feel weak in the knees.”

“Okay, you need food,” Jake said with a resolute mindset, before calling over your shoulder, “Thanks, Penny.”

He pushed the basket towards your elbow. “Get some chips into you.” Jake just watched you munch on your crispy snack. “Speaking of food, you want to join me and the group to some Barbecue this weekend?”

You barely lifted your head. “Barbecue? Special occasion?”

“Rooster’s uncle Maverick is celebrating his birthday-”

“Woah, hold your horses, Jake.”

You raised your hands. Either to stop Jake from continuing or to restart your own brain. “Come again? Maverick?” Your hands hovered over your mouth, as you mumbled, “You’re inviting me to Maverick’s birthday barbecue party? I don’t feel prepared for this.”

Jake groaned. “Oh great, I forgot your dad is such a Maverick fanboy. Of course.” He closed his eyes in a mixture of misery and defeat.

“Jake,” you breathed in deeply and covered his shoulders with your hands, mindful of not dropping nacho dust on his shirt. “Jake,” you began again, “I’ve never told you this, but this is the first time when I realized how absolutely invaluable you are to me as a best friend.”

“I’m seriously regretting telling you this.”

You nibbled on your lip. “I think I scared Jake off with my … how do I say it … domineering admiration for Maverick. I’m getting the feeling he’s embarrassed of me. You have no idea how quickly he dashed the moment we arrived here.”

Natasha appeared nonchalant at your worries while she took a bite from her noodle salad on her paper plate. “Not possible. I’ve only met you yesterday and can affirm that man couldn’t be closer to you. Hangman was probably held up by something. Or he’s just elevating his testosterone level with Rooster again. You met the birthday kid already?”

“Nope.” At the mention, your hands tightened around the food container.

A soothing smile tugged on Natasha’s lips. “Deep breaths. You can’t miss him.” She pointed outside to the backyard. “He’s the guy at the grill, in the sunglasses and Hawaiian shirt. If he has a mustache, you’ve gone too far.”

“Got it.” You exhaled quietly and reminded yourself under your breath, “No mustache, Hawaiian shirt.”

“You’ll survive, don’t worry.” Natasha looked behind her. “Rooster, take her with you. She wants to meet the birthday man in question.”

“Sure.” Bradley stepped forward and offered his arm.

Your body acted on pure instinct.

“Holding my hand, alright, that’s fine.”

You only mouthed in gratitude, “Thank you.”

They walked a few steps onto the lawn when Bradley looked around. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Nat told me he was probably wrestling in the mud with you to assert his dominance.” You cleared your throat when you realized something. “And not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever you say. Just making sure where you two stand if he sees us standing together, holding hands.”

“Jake Seresin is not my dad,” you said absentmindedly when a dark-haired man caught your eye. Your throat felt dry. “Is that him?”

“As everyone keeps telling me.” Bradley approached the man standing behind the grill. “I found someone who wants to send their birthday wishes, Mav.”

Maverick revealed a crooked smirk. “Is that so?” You could feel his curious gaze through his sunglasses. “You’re a new face.”

“Um, yeah. I’m Jake’s friend.”

“Hangman has friends?”

“I know it’s a first for everybody,” you admitted. Knowing that Bradley and Jake were at least on speaking terms, and with Jake inviting you to Maverick’s barbecue party, you elaborated, “He needs some time to let people get close.”

Bradley gasped. “You don’t say.”

You focused on Maverick. “A few days ago, Jake invited me to your birthday. Hope that’s okay. I brought you peach cobbler as a present.”

At the mention, Bradley’s head whipped around. “Jesus, why didn’t you just go with that?”

Maverick moved his glasses until they laid atop his head and his eyes were uncovered. “You had me at cobbler.” He rubbed his hands against his jeans. “Bradley, you mind taking over the grill for a bit?”

“Fine. Get me a beer along the way?”

“Sure.” Maverick faced you again when he led you towards the table filled with food. “I didn’t catch your name?”

Just being in Maverick’s company felt surreal. You tried to restrain yourself from appearing too much like a crazy person.

“Um, Y/N … L/N. You’re Maverick?” Nervously, you stroked a curl of hair behind your ear. Even saying that name while standing right in front of him felt out of this world.

“Pete’s just fine.” His expression turned inquisitive. “Did Hangman tell you stories or did I miss something?”

You swallowed thickly. “My dad’s a big fan of yours. He’s a pilot in the Air Force. Told me stories ever since I was a kid. Your flight maneuvers have been legendary.”

He smiled at the devotion in your voice. “Still are.” You adored that playful glint in his eyes still shining through.

“Definitely. You probably get this all the time.”

“Want a beer?” After seeing you nod, he gave you a bottle. “Sometimes. Although, that kind of reverie I’m not used to.”

To calm your nerves, you downed some alcohol. “Really? Okay, I’ll try to control myself. However, Iceman’s skills were far-” Your eyes widened at your blabbing mouth before you covered it. “I’m sorry, too much liquid courage.”

Pete—even thinking that name felt strange—released guffaws of laughter at your gaffe. “Hey, it’s still my birthday!”

“I know, I’m sorry. Happy birthday, Ma-Pete.”

~ Jake POV ~

“Hey, Hangboy, I need to have a word with you,” Jake heard Natasha’s hard voice a few feet away from them as he hung out with the boys. Despite that, the concept of strength in numbers didn’t make him feel safe, judging by her vehemence.

He swallowed at the dark glare in Nat’s eyes. “Vernacular?”

Natasha didn’t appreciate the humor and crossed her arms, letting uncomfortable silence fester around them.

Jake pressed his lips together. “Bad timing?”

“Someone ever say you’re a bad friend?”

Without hesitation, he replied dryly, “You. Every morning when I show up to work.”

“I had to send Bradley in Y/N’s direction because she was nervous about meeting Maverick.”

He groaned at the thought, throwing his head back. “Oh, poor Y/N. Being forced onto the company of that dull-stache? Sounds horrible.” Jake checked his surroundings, hoping to pick them up.

There was something about Natasha’s innocent eyes, with murder in her eyes, that unsettled him deeply.

“You make me want to punch you in the gut. And you know I grew up with brothers. I know how to make it look like an accident.”

Jake dropped the drink he was holding on a nearby table. “I have a plan.”

Natasha tilted her head in fascination. “Wow, your brain can actually do that? Could’ve fooled me. What does that even look like?”

He drew nearer at the sound of her challenge. “It’s called giving each other space. Did I miss something or why are you so gung-ho when it comes to Y/N? Do we need to have a talk?”

“Five minutes in her company and I already know how she’s too good for you.”

Something bitter settled in his stomach at the mere mention. As if he didn’t already know. He smiled tensely. “Thanks for the reminder, Phoenix. Do I need to save her from Rooster?”

Natasha waved a hand. “Not to worry. Y/N is having fun with Bob.”

His mind went blank, trying to process her words. Jake pursed his lips, feeling confused. “Wait—w—why—what are you saying? Bob? Bob with the glasses? Or is there another Bob I should know?”

Natasha hummed, analyzing his reaction. She chose to unnerve him further by chuckling maniacally. “Cake stand. Have fun.” And with that she left.

Jake whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes. The food area instantly caught his eye. Y/N stood with Bob and was laughing uproariously. It felt X-Files-strange to watch that anomaly. Y/N arched her back and patted Bob’s shoulder, with a plate of cake slice in her hand.

Feeling perturbed by the macabre reality, Jake imagined Y/N being into Bob of all people. He frowned at that scenario, whispering, “Bob?”

~ Y/N POV ~

You held your stomach. Your cheeks were hurting from uncontrollable laughter, as you were trying to breathe. “Oh my God, Bob, that’s so-”

Jake inched closer with a small smile on his face. “What’s so funny?” He draped his arm over Y/N’s shoulder and reached for her dessert plate, either so she wouldn’t drop it or to have a taste himself. Without looking at him, you placed it into his hands.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Why didn’t you tell me that Bob is so funny?”

Jake swallowed before coughing. “You learn something new every day. Still waters, huh?”

Bob smiled awkwardly.

Upon seeing his reaction, you spoke up, “I always hated that saying. Bob’s an absolute sweetheart.” To reinforce your point to him, you rubbed Bob’s shoulder.

Bob adjusted his glasses while blushing. “I try my best, ma’am.”

“Bob!” You chuckled in mock outrage, swatting lightly against his chest.

He nodded with a small smile. “Yes, Y/N, affirmative.”

“We’re getting to know each other. I just found out that Bob’s from Montana and his momma used to be a Grizzlies mascot. Personally, I’m more of a Saints girl, but to each their own.”

Jake groaned, with his mouth full. “I’m eating here,” he muttered indignantly. Jake swallowed his food. “What did I ever do to you? The last time we did this, we had the Cowboys/Saints-gate.”

You leaned your head back against Jake’s chest, patting his cheek consolingly. “He’s such a big baby.”

Bob pressed his lips together. “Uh, I think I hear my name. I need to say hello to Maverick real quick.”

You reached out with your arm. “Oh, do put your feelers out if the birthday guy is still fine with me after I was blabbing my mouth about g-loc and Iceman’s record stats.”

“He’s probably fine.”

“But still!” You called out against his back as he left.

It was turning out to be a quiet evening, you realized, rubbing your feet.

Jake stepped into the living room, drying his moist hair with a towel. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway, watching you. “Would you look at that.”

You were transfixed on the film playing on Jake’s TV while you snuggled deeper under the towel on the couch. “What’s up?”

Jake decided to join you on the couch and put your feet on his lap. He spread his legs comfortably. Unconsciously, warming your heels. “You know, feels like old times. You sitting on my couch, taking all the blankets.”

You covered your eyes, with a groan, and leaned your head back. “You make me sound like a mooch. I offered to go to a hotel.”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant.” Jake chuckled. You felt the warmth of his hand when he reached for yours. Before you could blink, Jake stared deeply into your eyes and interlaced your fingers together. With a smile, he whispered, “I missed this. Feels like old times.”

With blushing cheeks, you felt your skin tingling at sitting so close to him. It was moments like these that made you question the nature of your friendship. You swallowed at seeing Jake’s sage-green eyes sparkle. His soft smile was making it hard to breathe.

You whispered, “Me too.”

“You know what else I miss? And what I can’t stop thinking about?”

You swallowed thickly, licking your lips. Feeling uncertain by his thought process, you slowly asked, “Which is what?”

Jake inched closer. “How I used to do this.” He tilted his head, rubbing his wet hair into the crook of your neck.

“You jerk!” You giggled from his attack. It made him seem more like a dog than a human when he was content in brushing his wet hair against your skin.

He grumbled lowly, as his warm breath puffed against your skin. “But this feels really nice. I could stay like this forever,” he said with a hum.

Your phone emitted a notification sound. “You’re an idiot.” Slapping against his forehead to push him away, deep chuckles followed you while your focus switched to your phone.

“You hungry? I could whip up some chicken teriyaki for us? I think I got some sauce in the cabinet. I know how much you love your teriyaki.” He groaned while standing up.

Giggles left your mouth when you read the incoming messages.

Jake turned his head. “Your girlfriends miss you already?”

You bit your lip. “No, it’s Bob just being sweet.”

Blinking slowly, Jake tried to process the words you just uttered. He cleared his throat. Jake’s voice turned slightly high-pitched. “Come again?” He coughed, placing his hands on his waist. “Are we talking about the same Bob? Bob Bob?”

You hummed in agreement without looking up.

He mumbled, “Didn’t know you guys already exchanged numbers. That’s quick, … right?”

With a curious gaze, you looked up. “What do you mean?”

Jake paused. “What do you mean?” He licked his lips, backtracking a bit. “With, you know, Bob … being a total sweetheart.”

You smiled fondly at the memory of the barbecue. “Well, he is. I really loved talking to him.”

With grumbling breaths, Jake puffed his chest. “Really?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yep, it was fun.”

“As you keep mentioning,” Jake murmured.

“I did some thinking,” you spoke, “and I was wondering, how would you feel about doing karaoke night with your squad?”

At first, Jake had a look of appreciation which took a turn to disappointment. “But karaoke night is our thing,” he said, pointing between them.

“I know, but this could be like a bonding thing. You’d get to know them, I’d get to know them and we could have fun together. Win-win!”

He sighed deeply, letting his shoulders drop. “You’re far too invested in this.”

“I don’t want them to remember me as the friend who didn’t want to bother with them.”

Jake’s voice turned into a soothing murmur. “They wouldn’t dare think that.”

With a whisper, you enunciated, “Not if we do karaoke night. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

[silverzoomies]

Great Pumpkin

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, smut, kissing, porn with plot, halloween, drunk sex, halloween party, porn with feelings, use of the speech quirk "yer"

word count: 7,878

a/n: meant to finish this one before halloween. whoops !! at least november is the spook before christmas !! or halloween 2, electric boogaloo !!

some notes about this one: i wanna apologize for the needless plot. i know it's unnecessary, but i got a little carried away. if anything feels awkward, out of place, or weird? that's my bad. sorry. i was havin' too much fun writing the less smutty stuff. some other notes - think of this as an au, i guess. where erik is hiding out at xavier's for...reasons? idfk. sitcom logic. everyone's living together !! but there's tension !!

tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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All Hallows Eve.

Prior to the X-Family’s spooktacular bash, Hank whipped up a little something special. Using his Einstein brain - or wizard sorcery. Peter couldn’t be too sure - the beastly scientist conjured a powerful inebriant. He heard Peter joke one too many times about his inability to get drunk. Since the speedster’s body filtered through substances at break-neck speed. Leaving not a second’s worth of intoxication time.

No exaggeration there. Peter once tried chugging his mom’s entire stash of liquor, along with a bottle of Purple Toad wine. Some really fruity stuff. Such a mass of booze only left a burn in his throat, along with an onslaught of nausea. All of which lasted 0.2 seconds.

Hank wanted to do Peter a favor for all his hard work lately. And now, he could finally participate in what he missed out on. After all these years. As long as he didn’t use the substance for any nefarious purposes. Per Hank’s request. Whatever that meant. Not like Peter planned on playing pranks at this year’s party. C’mon…really? He’s a teacher, for Geddy’s sake! He's gotta set a good example.

Spoiler alert: he had planned on it. Keyword being had.

Until the inebriation actually kicked in. For the first time in his unconventional life, a warm buzz pooled through Peter’s bloodstream. One of the major side effects? Debuffs to superspeed. Which proved an otherworldly experience. If not a little uncomfortable. Still worth it, for a one-night-only lesson in drunkenness.

Peering lazily into his red solo cup, Peter blinked. His eyes followed swirls of neon cyan. Luminous in its irradiated glow. He couldn’t comprehend the science behind Hank’s glowstick booze. But he knew it filtered through his body at a much slower rate than other substances. The drink felt syrupy on his tongue, and tasted like - coincidentally enough - candy corn. Its effects proved weaker than Peter expected. 

Given his cells operated so incomprehensibly fast, Peter didn’t find this too surprising. So, what? He’d never get frat party wasted. Oh well. Peter came to accept that fact about himself forever ago. Still, fluorescent booze made him mellow enough to slow down a lot. Peter could totally vibe with mellow. No complaints there. Mellow’s copacetic. He definitely owed Beastie for his magic potion of slow-mo. Peter oscillated between a nice, tipsy balance. Muddled enough to let loose and enjoy himself. But conscious enough to avoid making any ultra stupid decisions.

Or, he thought so, anyway.

Hobbling around the mansion, Peter pushed through crowds of partygoers. All dressed in their spookiest, sexiest, or most low-effort costumes. Twinkles of orange and violet lights kept the mansion somewhat lit. With spoOoOoOoOoky decorations scattered amongst the school. A perfectly campy atmosphere for Halloween. Oh. And those decorations? All Peter’s doing. Of course, it’s no surprise the professor deemed him prime event decorator. He took mere microseconds to spice up an entire plot of land. Throwing forth all his effort, Peter dressed the building in balls-to-the-walls, haunting decor. 

Fake spiders with prickly fur lay strewn about in random places. Ghosts made of old, torn sheets swayed in the breeze. Skeletons hanged by the dozens. Streamers of orange and faded black dangled from the ceilings and doorways. String lights lined the mansion’s trim. Outside on the grounds, Peter even garnished the grass with inflatable Snoopys.

During his decorative escapades, he cracked jokes to the kids. Peter asked, “You guys think the Great Pumpkin’ll show up?”

They squealed with laughter, stomping their little feet. Candy buckets in hand, the kids yelled, “Mr. Maximoff, the Great Pumpkin’s not real!!”

In the midst of rearranging another Snoopy, he gasped, “WHAT?! He is too real!! Better not let him hear you say that!” 

A haunted trail veered off into the woods surrounding the mansion. It led to an old barn, stocked full of hay and populated with jack-o-lanterns. All carved by the mutant kiddos themselves. Another set of glittering lights decorated the barn, creating an autumn glow. A pair of giant speakers - Peter paid for them, mind you - roared Halloween tunes over the entire property.

Cool stuff. Talk about a hell of a set-up. Peter couldn’t help but be proud of himself. Such a slew of decorations might put even Scrooge Mcduck himself in holiday spirits.

Wait. No. What? Scrooge Mcduck? Wasn’t he more of a Christmas thing? Fuck. Peter might be more mixed up than he thought. He gazed absentmindedly into his red solo cup again. Blinking slowly, he wondered…what the hell did Hank put in this disco concoction anyway?

Whatever. By the end of the night, Peter hoped the kids got a kick out of his hard work. Not that he broke a sweat putting it all together or anything. But he wanted to live up to his awesome teacher reputation. The highest of honors, really. No way he’d let anyone else trump him on that front.

Then again… Peter nibbled his lip, grinning to himself like a huge doofus. He took another long swig of his drink. Candy corn sweetness tickled his taste buds.

Okay. So, he might’ve had someone else in mind while he decorated. Somebody he desperately wanted to impress. A lot. Or, just a little bit, actually. Like, on a microscopic level. Maybe.

That somebody? You. Except, not really. No way.

Pffffttt…he definitely didn’t do it for you. C’mon! Why would he? Think of the kids! Those precious, lil demon spawn! They practically worshiped him. They’re what it’s all about, right? Riiiight.

Peter’s holiday decorations tempted any passing trick-or-treaters to drop by. And the professor prepared quite the spectacle of treats for them too. King sized, candy bars and all. Hank and Raven - showing off their mutant glory without an ounce of shame - passed the candy out to children. 

Human children.

Magneto - still unaware he had a son sprinting around the mansion on any given day - dubbed the gesture hopeless naivety. Or something along those lines. Inviting humans to join in on a night of mutant fun? Totally bogus. Which…yeah. From Erik’s perspective? Fair enough.

“You think they’ll learn to accept you through meaningless, holiday gestures?” Erik griped, arms crossed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Raven merely rolled her eyes. She made a comment about the inherent innocence of children. Erik didn’t appear to care. He groused some more after that. But Peter didn’t hear much of it. Nor did he imagine he even wanted to. At least, not tonight. Maybe once Peter sobered up a bit, he wouldn’t mind lending an ear. If his father ever felt the need to open up about his woeful turmoil.

But Erik disappeared upstairs. Out of sight. Still in hiding, all alone. Poor dude.

Unlike his misguided papa, Peter didn’t mind human inclusion so much. One: because he considered himself a pretty open minded guy. Easy to say, since he didn’t harbor anything remotely comparable to his father’s trauma. 

And two, on a less serious note: Human girls. They gravitated towards Peter like moths to a flame.

Throughout the mansion, the theme to Killer Klowns from Outer Space rang. Conversations buzzed around Peter like radio static. Candy corn booze made it impossible for him to comprehend them. Some partygoers played wallflower. Idling by snack tables, feasting on as much junk food as their stomachs could handle. It took every ounce of restraint Peter had, not to raid those tables himself.

Peter’s Terminator costume wasn’t much of a costume at all, really. It left most of the ladies confused. He didn’t recognize half the costumed cuties who pulled him in for dances. But they sure as hell recognized him. When another pretty girl pressed herself against him - tits bouncing, and bare thighs rubbing his pants - she’d ask the dreaded words, “What’re youuuu supposed to be?” Twirling her hair and giving Peter fluttery bedroom eyes.

Peter gave the same responses every time. Covered head to toe in black clothing, wearing a pair of sunglasses; he raised a prop shotgun from his back, responding with his best Arnold impression.

“I’ll be back.” Right on the money, Peter thought in his buzzed haze. Totally accurate. One to one.

If the girlies didn’t get the reference? So be it. Peter ultimately felt like a massive dork. But he got some sexually charged groovin’ out of it. A bit of groping here or there. He didn’t mind taking the L, if it meant grabbing some ass in the process.

But as the party clamored on, Peter knew he wanted only one thing.

To find you. Just to hang out, catch up, and have an innocent time. No other reason. Seriously. Honest. Why else would he wanna find you? To mess around a little bit? Nahhh. Why would he wanna fool around with you? And risk a long term friendship? He couldn't have that.

Not when you carried enough patience to put up with his day-to-day bullshit. Always listening to his senseless ramblings. Even if he spoke too fast for you to keep up.

During his lunch breaks on school days, Peter usually spent time with you. The two of you talked in the kitchen, or chillaxed in the lounge. Those chats? The highlight of his day. As corny as it seemed. He just couldn’t resist you and your kindly wiles. The wiles of his colleague. His…very pretty colleague. His…very pretty… platonic colleague.

Someone please end his misery now.

Peter wandered aimlessly. He danced his heart out and chatted up some more cute gals. Soon enough, he found you. Leaned over a set of snack tables, you picked through sugary sweet treats. Peter noticed the way you swayed in place. A little heavy footed like him, eh? He snickered to himself, sneaking up behind you. 

Lacking any filter or restraint, Peter blatantly gawked at your ass. A fitted, white gown draped your body. Flowing in an angelic fashion, it harmonized with your every curve. Even tipsy, Peter recognized your costume the microsecond he saw it. Princess Leia. Star Wars. Episode IV. Very sexy. Beyond sexy, even.

A flirtatious whistle caught you by surprise. You whirled around with a doe eyed look on your face. A kind of gaze that made his brain turn to mush. As if the alcohol hadn’t already. You licked the frosting off a funky colored cupcake, as Peter’s gaze flitted down your body. His eyes followed the smooth creases of your gown. A tasteful peek of your thigh kept his attention locked. Until the perky tease of your nipples captivated him instead.

Awesome. Amazing. 11/10. Best night ever.

“Ohmygosh!” You laughed, reaching out to touch Peter’s chest for whatever reason. Not that he minded one bit, “Peeeter, I’m sooooo sorry! I’m a little tipsy right now! It’s really unprofessional!”

Scarlet bloomed in his cheeks, burning hot enough to make him dizzier. Peter ogled you like the last Twinkie on the planet. A dollop of frosting caught the plush of your lip. You swirled it away with your tongue. Drawing in a hitched breath, Peter blinked.

Focus. He needed to focus on anything else. Not the parts of you he wanted to be on, inside of, and all other configurations of carnality.

“And?? You wanna hear somethin’ cray-crayyy?” Peter asked, lamely slurring his words. He raised his red solo cup, waving it in a clumsy motion, “So am I, princess! I’m totally hammered. And I looooove it!” He threw his head back, belting a loud, “WHOOOOO!!” Feeling more like a free spirit than he had in years.

Moving closer, you couldn't control your laughs. You shushed Peter, keeping your hand on his chest. Patting you on the shoulder, Peter chuckled. He feigned offense, but his sizeable hand lingered on you. A thumb grazed the soft cloth of your dress. For a beat, he wondered what you looked like under it.

“Whyyyy?? Why should I keep it down, huh?? It’s a party, baby! Everybody’s yellin’!” He shrugged. Peter smirked, throwing his head back again. He shouted another, “WHOOOOO!!”

A crowd of partygoers kept their eyes on the two of you. Their gazes lingering for a little longer than necessary. You snickered again. So tipsy, you could hardly get a word in through your giggling.

“You really are drunk, oh my gosh. You’re crazy, Peter! I can’t even-” Dropping your head into his chest, you erupted in woozy huffs of laughter. Great. He loved the closeness, “Peter, sorry, I’m sooooooo-”

“Mind-blowingly hot?” Peter lazily blinked, “Because yer-...you-ohhhh, man. You look really hot. Like-” He made a meaningless gesture with his hands, shaking his head, “Like, WOW! Have you seen yourself? Someone tell ‘Ro to make it rain. ‘Cuz yer on fiiiiiiire!” He joked. Cheesy and lame, but too smashed to even care.

You scoffed, cheeks set ablaze, “Oh, please! Give me a break! Mister Terminator casanova over here. Are you trying to butter me up like you did all those other ladies?” Playfully, you pushed off his chest. Peter mourned the loss of your touch, “I saw you! Getting all handsy out there!” You said, your tone lighthearted. Still accusatory.

Somehow, you recognized his costume. That caught him a little off guard. Peter’s heart did some kinda funny, fluttery thing. Jumpy, warm, and beating beating beating in his chest. But…nah. Couldn’t be because of you. Could it? Maybe the booze did it. Yeah. Irradiated Beast hooch must’ve give him palpitations. He’d tell Hank about this side effect later.

Peter arched a silver brow, “Oh, yeah? Mmmhm. Sounds like yer just jealous. ‘Cuz the ladies find my inner Schwarzenegger, action hero totally irresistible.” Bullshit. Most of them thought he dressed as Neo from the Matrix. Wrong action movie. Peter kept talking out his ass, “I bet it drives you up a wall to see ‘em all over me like that.”

“Oh, you think? Suuure. Like Leia would ever have the hots for some dollar store Terminator.” You teased affectionately, “Likely story, Quickie.” Fuck. Quickie. He loved when you called him that. You deceived your own protests, pressing your body against Peter's.

Your nails dug into his shirt as you palmed his chest. So…you wanted to play this little game now, huh? Alright. Fine. Peter bickered back and forth with you for an indiscernible amount of time. Standing in a corner by the snack tables, away from the noisy, party bustle. Unbalanced and wobbly, Peter leaned in. Keeping you both pressed together in a way too intimate for wandering eyes.

He almost spilled his neon concoction on your dress. Exchanging giggles again, Peter lingered even closer. His lips on the cusp of reaching out for yours. But in a clouded moment of self awareness, he stopped himself short.

“D-Do you…uhhhh-” He swallowed dryly. His nerves buzzed all through his body, “Y’wanna…get outta here? Maybe go do somethin’ reallllyyyy dumb? Like-uh…maybe make a mistake you’ll regret in the morning?” Peter suggested, wiggling his brows.

You gave him another lidded look, igniting a blistering fire deep in his bones. With your body still pressed to his - bodacious and oh-so-tempting - you brought a hand up. A beat of silence passed, as you moved his sunglasses up over his hair. Silver strands fell loose. You gazed into his puppy dog eyes directly. 

“And what makes you think I’d regret it?” You asked, your voice smooth and somewhat slurred. Oh...were you being real with him right now?

Your fingers traced flirty circles over his chest. Scorching flames in Peter’s heart burned warmth through his veins. Heat gathered in his groin. Peter’s eyes widened to a planetary degree. Clutching his solo cup a little too tight, he brushed your ass with his other hand. By accident. He only intended to pull you closer. You held his intoxicated gaze. 

Peter let his lips ghost yours again, without any direct connection.

“See, that’s-uhhh…hah…that’s just the booze talkin’.” He whispered with a soft chuckle. Steadily, he pulled himself from you, “Wanna know what it’s tellin’ me?” Peter gave you another lazy grin, nibbling his lip, “Youuuuuu and meee…” He sluggishly said. He dragged you along with him. Stumbling backwards, “...should-uh…gooooo have some…adult fun, yeah? A little romp in the hay?”

Did you know he meant that verbatim? Probably not.

Moments later, Peter clumsily navigated through the party. He made a beeline for the entrance hall, holding your hand the entire way. Floundering with every step, he traversed the crowded halls. Through each doorway the two of you passed, fluttering streamers dangled above. Soft tissue brushed across your face, tickling your nose.

The streamers proved more unkind to Peter. Staggering through the last doorway, he became tangled in them. Peter tried to shake the tissue off, twisting around and flailing his arms. He cursed aloud, making a spectacle of his embarrassing predicament. Caught in a web of orange and black, he looked like a Halloween decoration all his own. The streamers wrapped around his body and arms, even covering his head.

“MOTHER FU-” He cursed, jerking the tissue down with a rough tug. Peter tripped forward in the process. But he caught himself just in time. Compensating for his humiliation, he laughed, “I’m okay! I’m okay! Allllll good, guys. I’m good. Totally good! Meant to do that, actually.” Peter cleared his throat. He averted his glassy gaze from any partygoers nearby.

One of them being Hank, who stood alongside Raven. The two shared a few drinks and quietly chatted. The big, beast of man wore torn, red flannel. His blue fur peeked out from the undone buttons, appearing frayed. His costume? A smurf werewolf. A smurfwolf. Or something. Peter couldn't tell. And Raven? She hadn’t dressed up at all. Labeling Halloween: The one time of year she chose not to disguise herself. Why? Because, in her words, "It's funnier that way."

Raven stifled a laugh at Peter’s expense. But Hank didn’t hold himself back. He roared a rumbling chuckle, “I see the serum’s treating you well, Peter!” Hank teased, cradling a drink in his fluffy paw, “Why, it certainly looks that way. You seem to be having-uhm…fun? Yes! Fun. I'm delighted to see it!"

Peter idled in the middle of the doorway, swaying a little on his feet. Forgoing the streamers, he left them tangled around his limbs. Fuck it. His costume could use some added flair.

“I’m havin’ a-uhhhhh…a total blast, Beast my mannn!” Peter slurred. He passed Hank on his way out the mansion’s entrance. And roughly patted the scientist on the shoulder, “Thanks again, buddy ol’ pal! I owe you one!”

You giggled, beaming an elated smile as Peter dragged you out the door. Once you flew ungracefully by, Hank and Raven both did double takes. They gave you cautious looks, as if to say - uh, do you think this is a good idea? A little too sloshed, you failed to register their concern. Following Peter out the door with an inelegant skip in your step, you waved the pair goodbye.

“Well, now…that’s certainly going to be awkward for him tomorrow morning.” Hank joked, looking down at his drink. He swirled the beverage, the cup appearing itty bitty in his clutch. Showing off a crowd of snaggle teeth, he yawned.

Raven shook her head, scoffing, “Oh, it’ll bite him in the ass later. That’s for sure.” She added, sipping her own drink, “You proud of yourself?” Raven quipped, arching an orange brow. Hank held up a single claw, playful in his self defense.

“Not my fault! I gave him that serum because I thought he could have fun with it! And he is! Didn’t you see him? What he does under its influence is completely out of my jurisdiction!” Hank shrugged, stating in a matter-of-fact way, “I’ll have you know, I did try to warn him!”

In hindsight, Peter should have heeded Hank’s warnings. What he did under the effects of disco liquor proved supremely stupid. The nanosecond your feet hit the grass outside, he lost any restraint he had left. Peter kissed you full on. Ushering your sweet lips into an alcohol induced session of heavy smooching. Tongues interweaving, lackadaisical and reckless, the two of you shared careless kisses. Under decorative spider webs and amongst inflatable Snoopys.

But no Great Pumpkin in sight.

You slung your arms over Peter’s broad shoulders, letting him devour you. His sizable hands slid over your hips. He pulled you closer as he stumbled like a complete klutz. Thick fingers curled into the cloth of your dress. Caught up in the heat of the moment, Peter didn’t dare consider any consequences. With no filter to hold him back, one of his palms felt for your breast. He copped a handful, before you stopped him in his tracks. You tore your lips from his candy corn kisses.

“Heyyyy! Hey, hey, hey! Not here! What are you even doing??” You laughed, giving his nose an affectionate nuzzle, “Someone might see us, doofus!”

Peter hummed, pulling you against him in a more firm grip. He stole frantic kisses, heated and mouthy. Squeezing your hips, his nails scratched across your gown to your ass. Kneading your plush cheeks with little shame.

“So what? Let ‘em enjoy the show!” Peter snickered, diving in for yet another kiss, “I’m not gonna miss out on a chance to touch you like this. Now that I finally got you…”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t seem to take him seriously. In an attempt to pull yourself away again, you stumbled backwards in the grass. Even with his reaction time outta wack, Peter managed to catch you before you fell. In one awkward motion, he scooped you up bridal style and carried you into the woods. The streamers coiled around his limbs came loose, at long last. Flitting away behind him in the wind.

He held you in his strong arms, following the mansion’s haunted, Halloween trail. The hayride already closed down for the night, leaving the trail - and the barn - open for some private necking.

Finding his way to the barn, Peter wobbled, slowing his stride. In his arms, you took a moment to admire the decorations he put so much effort into. Orange, twinkling lights lined the barn’s entryway. Vibrant in late night darkness. Magical, and kinda romantic. Through the trees in the distance, the garnished mansion appeared visible. A Halloweeny spectacle, engulfed in simulated fog.

Party music echoed from afar, faint, but clear enough he could hear. Peter perked up, overhearing a classic, Hallow’s eve tune.

“‘CUZ THIS IS THRILLLAHHHH!” Peter shouted off key, moving backwards into the barn. His steps were careless, “THRILLAH NIIIIGHT!” He sang, falling into a bed of cool hay. Strands of straw bounced in the air. You came down with him, and he kept singing, “AND NO ONE’S GONNA SAVE YA-” He cut himself off, leaning in to feast on your lips. Peter cradled you in his arms, humming Thriller amidst awkward kisses.

You laid bridal style over his legs, dipping your head back. Inviting Peter to devour your neck like a thirsty vampire. Without all the grace of Bela Lugosi. More like a hammered Nosferatu. If either of you had second thoughts, Peter couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. He left that baggage behind. In the morning, sober Peter could unpack it all. Right now, he wanted his hands on your body, under your dress.

“Ohhhh~! Oh my-” You moaned, tacking on an erotic squeal of his name. Giggling in a kittenish tone. The sound made him wanna bite you harder, “W-Wait-...Peter, maybe we shouldn’t-oooooh~! Maybe we shouldn’t be-”

His sloppy kisses cut your hesitance short. Peter nodded his head in a lazy, loose motion. Bringing more dizziness upon himself.

“Mmmm? What? No-...” He hummed, “Baby, we should. We definitely should. Don’t even worry-” Peter paused for an abrupt beat. Holding you tight, he adjusted in the hay. Uncomfortable, Peter knitted his brows, “Wait-...this hay’s so-...why’s this hay so fuckin’ itchy, man?”

At the chime of your silly snorts and giggles, Peter’s words became lost on him. Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. He couldn’t think clearly enough to recall them. Instead, he drew his attention back to you. Peter’s lips found your neck once more. Your floral scent replenished his lungs, a lifesource he desperately needed. Hot kisses peppered down your chest. In his clouded stupor, Peter buried his face between your breasts.

He loved the flustered squeal you made in response. Enough that he couldn’t help but do it again.

“Ohhhhh…hot damn, baby.” Peter groaned into your chest, motorboating your knockers. A graceless gesture. Lifting his face, his hair appeared a disheveled mess, “Yer so awesome, y’know that? Liiiike…yer really great. I know I’m pretty drunk right now, but-uhhhh…” He slurred, sneaking thick fingers under your dress, “I do mean it. No joke. I think yer really cool. Cool and-uhm…and-uh…hahaaa….I really like you.”

You erupted in more buzzed giggles, parting your lips to protest his drunken confession. But Peter silenced you with shushes, “Shhhhhhhh! Shhhhh, don’t-” He hiccuped. Your laughs were so contagious, he couldn’t help but giggle as well, “Shhhh! Don’t tell anybody!”

“I won’t! I won’t!” You chuckled, gently holding his cheeks. You pulled him down for more smooches, lips meeting in a slower embrace, “I like you too, Peter…but shhhhhh…keep it a secret.”

His fingertips danced along your inner thigh, clumsy and unsteady. Peter’s hand disappeared between your legs and under your gown. Hot digits grazed your panties. A flimsy, soaked piece of fabric awaited those digits. Breathing a low huff, Peter whispered, “Fuck.” into your neck. The steamy word tickled your skin, giving you chills.

Blindly, he wormed his fingers into your panties. Peter dipped his digits into your honeyed heat. Thick, syrupy cushions sealed around him. He focused on parting your tight walls. A little too uncoordinated to pleasure you in a more ideal way. Rough, repetitive motions curled at an awkward angle. Digging so deep, Peter could hear the squishy call of your insides - leaking wet, all for him. 

Your body tensed, knees spreading on instinct. Cool air caressed your thighs. Peering down into your lidded, baby doll eyes, he held your gaze. As your cunt pulsed around his digits, soft and constricting, he knitted his brows. Humming another groan, Peter dove down for your neck. He sucked mouthy, wet hickies into your skin. Leaving gifts for sober you to discover later tomorrow.

Speaking of sober.

Sober Peter never had trouble keeping up with anybody. Moreover, everyone else found it impossible to keep up with him. But in his buzzed daze, he could barely follow your lead. One blink, and his fingers buried themselves to the knuckle in your cunt. The next blink, you took initiative. Throwing him for a loop, you changed positions. You pushed Peter further back into the hay, straddling his lap.

As you fumbled for his jeans and pulled them open, more giggling ensued. Heated tension hung over the two of you like those glimmering, barn lights. You felt around, guiding your hand to a hot thickness in his pants. It rested in a curly bed of silver hairs, limp and untouched. Your giggles ceased, and your expression shifted.

“Peter, you’re not even-” You started, squeezing the softness of him in your hand. You gave him a few loose tugs, your voice teeming with hesitance, “Are you…are you sure you want-”

“Yeaaaahhhhh. Yeah. Yanno, it’s just-...I never thought I’d be the one gettin’ whiskey dick. Haha.” Peter joked, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. Buzzed and uncoordinated, Peter harbored little patience for foreplay. His fingers sought for your weeping heat again. He pushed them through your soft, supple pussy lips, “Sucks a lot. I was really hopin’ I’d get to-uhmmm…ahahaaaa…” He bit his tongue, laughing, “Really wanted to show you a good fuckin’ time. But this shit feels like rocket science right now, sorry…”

Eventually, through sheer determination, you worked up enough sorcery to liven him up. Waking his cock from its soft slumber. Peter fumbled, clumsily guiding his dick to your flowery mound. It took some serious concentration on his part to do so. His tongue poked between his lips, brows furrowed tight. He leered between your sweltering bodies. Humid air clung to his skin, contrasting the sharp coolness of an October’s night. The smell of booze permeated in your sweat, mingling with the scent of your perfume. 

You sank over his cock, taking the now raging length of him fluidly. He bottomed out in a single intake of breath. Peter moaned, rolling his hips upward. Your fluttery walls stretched, cozy and soft around his dick. He dropped his head back into the hay, howling a goofy shout. It echoed through the trees, catching autumn wind.

"OHHHHHHH~! THAT'S IT! WHOOOOOO~!" He yelled. Peter chewed his lip hard, meeting your bounces with sluggish thrusts, "That's it. That's what I'm fuckin' talkin' about. Hoh-fuck..."

His rhythm was a little off beat, but he blamed the booze. Clenching the fabric of your dress in his fingers, he bunched it up tight. As if to hold you by horse’s reins, arduously guiding you on your ride.

Far in the back of his mind. Like, so far, Peter may as well have been on another planet. He had his first conflicting thought. Screwing you for the first time like this - hammered and careless - struck him as kind of…wrong. Really, he should have waited it out, and done this sober. But Peter couldn’t deny himself either.

"Peter, ohhh~! Feels really good~!" Your squeals of erotic, but sluggish pleasure sounded too much like music. Now cemented as one of his all time favorite songs, "Sooo good, I-aaahhh~!"

The bubbly feeling brought upon by Beast liquor made his body burn with ecstasy. His cock throbbed inside you, loving the tight embrace of your walls. Pleasure burned to an incomprehensible level of intensity. 

Even your dress felt unreasonably soft on his skin. Peter moaned again, drilling your cunt in unsteady surges of carnal bliss. He breathed thickly, the air between the two of you now sweltering. Choking on air, he kept his slow pace. His cock dug tunnels through your walls at a slacking speed. Completely unnatural for him. But overflowing with intoxication, he thrived in it.

“N-Not gonna-” Peter laughed. His voice a rough, breathless mess of incoherency. Sticky heat flushed his cheeks, and his tone wavered, “‘M not-...god…not gonna last. Fuck. Oh my fucking-” He swallowed another groan, suffocating on it. Peter’s hips rolled, their movement leisurely, “Sooooo tight. Feels like yer tryna-...like yer gonna-...aaaahaaaaafuck.”

Playing with your pearly clit, you squealed. The swollen nub burned, tingling as you circled it. With difficulty focusing, Peter brought his head up. He watched your little fingers while you pleasured yourself. His lidded, dark eyes stared, so spacy, so clouded. A growl caught in the back of his throat. You toyed with yourself a little longer, spreading glossy slickness under your fingers.

Your whines stayed at a respectable volume. Quiet enough, no one outside the barn could hear. But Peter refused to keep his enthusiastic voice down. He dug his big hands into your hips, fingernails clenching your dress. Scratching rough lines into the white cloth.

"Fuck, you gonna-...you gonna keep touchin' yourself like that? Gonna cum for me?" His words slurred. Peter used his immeasurable strength to hold you in place. Stuffing his cock through your pussy’s luscious, spongy grip. He fucked you in lethargic, but needy ruts, "P-Please-ohmygod-...please cum for me, baby. Lemme hear it, please?"

"Noooo~! Pe-ahhhh~! Peter, I cannnn't! Someone might-...Peter I can't-" You whimpered. Swirling your clit, you pushed yourself even further towards climax. A delightful, oncoming wave of scorching pleasure surged in your body. Sizzling through your veins, "OH, FUCK, QUICKIE~!" A sharp squeal bounced from your throat, as Peter surprised you.

"FUCK!! Yeah? You sound so fuckin'-Ah-...Yer so fuckin' good for me. Don't hold back, baby. Wanna-ohhhh~! Wanna hear you scream. Don't you fuckin' hold back-" Moving suddenly fast, he slammed his cock in deeper. His cherry red dick shattered your poor cervix. Burying himself to the brim, he slapped your mound hard with sharp pounds of his pelvis, "Mmmmmmfucking-...gonna fuckin'....aaaahhaha..."

Peter’s body tensed. His heels scuffed along the ground, crushing hay under his boots as he braced his feet. More loose strands tickled his skin where his shirt bunched up. Making him itchy again. But his intoxicated rutting never dwindled. He whined again, his voice cracking. Ruthless, quickening grinds of his cock knocked you hard. Sending you straight into a dimension of overwhelming, euphoric pleasure.

As tremors hummed across your sweaty skin, bliss ruptured deep in your core. At that moment, Peter forgot to consider any further risks. He burst with a hot, white pop of gluey heat. Rocking your sore cunt in sloppy, shallow thrusts. Peter soaked his dick in your sweet, inebriated love. The scent of booze and sex simmered in his nostrils. Lifting his hips, he met you in one or two more reckless, offbeat bounces.

Barely conscious of reality, Peter panted. Lying with you in a clumsy heap, he shared lazy kisses and steamy breaths with you. Had he been anymore sober, Peter would’ve rushed you off to the nearest bathroom. In dire need of a minute’s recovery, he laid there. Splayed out, Peter’s limbs rested loose and flimsy. The seconds passed, and he sobered up quickly. Post-orgasmic haziness began to clear.

You snuggled up next to him, grazing his cheek with your nose. The scent of alcohol lingered on your breath. Remind Peter that, unlike him, you were probably still a little drunk.

“You okay?” You asked out of the blue, tickling his neck with a giggle, “What are you thinking about? You’re not second guessing yourself already, are you?” Your fingers toyed with the zipper of his jacket. Which he gave you to wear in the cold, shortly after fucking you senseless.

In the distance, the faint roar of the party continued on. Rustling from inside the mansion and seemingly endless. Peter stayed silent, before snickering. He turned his head to the side, returning your nuzzles with a kiss. His lips met your hair. The smell of your conditioner made his heart skip a beat for some reason.

“Nothin’. It’s not-” He shrugged, turning his head again. Peter stared up at the glittering string lights hanging in the barn. His coffee bean eyes jumped from twinkle to twinkle, “It’s not super important. Kinda weird to be thinkin’ about it after-uh…” His voice trailed off again. Peter cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks flush, “Seriously, no big deal.”

You rolled onto your back, watching the lights sway in a cool breeze, “You sure?” You laughed, humming an, “Uh ohhh!” Before you continued, “Did somebody sober up and realize he made a dumb mistake? Hehe…” You teased, though he could hear the sliver of hesitance in your tone. A beat of silence passed, and you hugged his jacket closer.

“Regret wh-...huh? Nahhh, baby. You kiddin’? That was awesome.” He snickered awkwardly. Peter brought his hands to his face. He sighed, “I-uh…I was just thinkin’ about how…I could be spendin’ this holiday with my dad. I mean, shit…maybe he wouldn’t wanna spend it with me, but-”

He assumed you might take offense to this. Wouldn't it come off as a little inconsiderate? To think about his dad right now. After such an intimate moment between the two of you. But being the understanding person you were, you rolled over to face him. Drawing gentle lines into his shirt, you snuggled up close to him again.

“Is that where you wanna be right now? With your dad?” You asked, your tone gentle.

Peter swallowed, pinching the bridge of his nose. A pounding headache swarmed him from nowhere. The repercussions of Beast hooch. Hopefully, such ailments would pass just as quickly as he sobered up.

“I-...yeah? I guess? But…it’s not like I can just-...like, I can’t go see him. Since he still doesn’t know about me, y’know? It’d be weird if I just showed up on Halloween. Like, hey, man, wanna hang out? Goddammit.” Peter shook his head, sitting up fully in the hay. Straw-like strands stuck to his clothes. He brushed them away.

“Well…hey, I got an idea, yeah?” You tried to follow his lead, sitting upward. Swaying a little as you did, Peter could tell you were still on the edge of tipsy. You giggled, “Let’s go inside. And I’ll…try to get everyone together for a movie. Maybe a horror? And you can run off! Go find him. Use the movie as an excuse. Offer him the opportunity to come down and watch. Sound good?”

It didn’t. Erik wasn’t the type to indulge in such activities. Still, Peter smiled fondly at your consideration. Nodding, he stood to his feet in a flash. You blinked, finding yourself lying bridal style in his arms again. With a hand to his chin, you tilted his head down. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thanks…” He hummed, his half lidded eyes gazing down into yours, “I really did have…such an awesome time with you. I haven't done that kinda thing with anybody in a while. But lemme-uh…” Peter bashfully chuckled, “Lemme get you to a bathroom so you can clean up, 'kay? ”

After the surprisingly deep chat he shared with you, Peter rushed you off to a mansion bathroom. Leaning against a wall, he waited outside the door. As the party settled and people filed out into the streets, he became more nervous. The two of you spent the rest of the night together, by the other’s side. Treating each other as normally as you would any other day. Soon, you sobered up enough to gather the X-family for a late night movie.

Peter took your advice, despite expecting the worst. Zipping upstairs and all through the mansion, he searched for his estranged father. To Peter’s surprise, Erik caught him off guard with a yes. But before he made his way downstairs, Peter took a moment to chat with him. He asked Erik how he was doing, and what he’d been up to. Ever since he chose the mansion for a temporary hideout (an arrangement most everybody felt uncomfortable with).

Erik - for good reason - wasn’t the most emotionally open. He kept their conversation short, before dismissing Peter. They both caught up with everyone else in the living room. The X-family sat together with snacks and drinks, joined for a movie. Erik chose a spot next to Peter on one of the sofas. Something he hadn’t anticipated at all. Since he didn’t get much out of the guy too often, he felt he could settle for his company, at least.

Sitting at Peter's other side, you eventually passed out. You rested your head on his lap, and he raked his fingers through your hair. By the time the movie ended, everyone veered off for bed. At last, calling Hallow’s eve quits. But Erik remained. He spoke to Peter a little while longer. Chatting about nothing at all, and everything at once.

Come next morning, Peter stood tiredly in the mansion kitchen. It was an unreasonably cold Monday in November. Freezing weather seemed to hit Westchester out of nowhere. He held a mug full of coffee, milky white and loaded with enough sugar to send anyone else to the hospital. Scratching his head over a mess of silver hair, Peter yawned. Even though he had more important things to worry about, he couldn't stop thinking about last night. For several reasons.

The impromptu bonding time he spent with his father lingered in his mind. Even if said father didn’t know what their interactions meant to Peter. It happened all thanks to your tipsy encouragement. Peter knew, even sober, you would’ve pushed him to do the same. Because you cared about him that much. Always inspiring him to step out of his comfort zone.

Aside from the estranged dad stuff, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more…steamy moments the two of you shared. Intimate interactions he still hadn’t sat down and discussed with you. Peter didn't have a clue what that little fling meant to you. Or if it meant anything at all. Distracting himself, he focused his attention elsewhere. Like the Halloween decorations littered about the mansion. He planned to take them down today after classes.

You came padding downstairs and into the kitchen not even five minutes later.

“Gooooood morning!” You cheerily said, blinking your sleepy eyes. Groaning, you brought a hand to your head. Your fingers touched your temple, “You know what’s surprising? I actually don’t have that bad of a hangover!”

Peter’s heart did flips, and he felt his stomach tangle in knots. Humming into his coffee, he threw you a casual nod of his head. Play it cool, “Mmmm. That’s good, though, right?”

You headed straight for the cabinets, standing on your toes to reach the highest one. You flailed around for the near-empty tub of coffee grounds. He left it up there without any consideration for short, mansion inhabitants like you. Totally absent-minded. Peter almost felt thankful he did. As you reached, the itty bitty, sleep shorts you wore rose by a touch. The cheeks of your ass caught his eye. Your bottom appeared etched in faint scratches, painted with red splotches. Damn…what the hell did he do to you last night?

Sipping his coffee with a groggy look on his face, Peter grinned.

Man alive, he wanted to screw you sober. Doing it drunk really wasn’t enough. Quickly, he dismissed that thought. Filing it away in his scatterbrained memory for later.

“Did you talk to Erik last night?” You asked, pulling Peter from his not-so-safe-for-work thoughts. You stretched a little further up, really reaching for that tin tub of Folgers.

Peter blinked, “Sorry, what?”

“Erik. I asked if you talked to him last night? Because I kinda remember you two having a chat. But then again, I was pretty out of it!” Your shorts hugged the shape of your cunt as you stood on your toes. An ache stirred in his groin, but he shook it off. Holy shit. What were you trying to accomplish here?

Peter’s heart skipped twenty beats. Sifting through the disorganized cabinets in his brain, he retrieved his previous thought. Ah, yeah. Screwing you sober? Not a want, but a need at this point. Focus, Quickie. He needed to focus. Especially if you planned on talking about something as important as his father.

“Uhhhh…” He ran a hand through his messy locks, taking a moment to process his racing thoughts, “Yeah, we talked. Not a lot, though. I meant to say thanks for that, by the way. Since I didn’t get to last night…” Peter brought his mug to his lips, averting his gaze, “Really. Thanks a lot. Don’t think we woulda had that time together, if you hadn’t pushed me to ask him 'n stuff.”

Still struggling to reach for that tin, you sighed. Your heels hit the floor, as you lowered your arm and turned to meet Peter’s eyes. Your sweet voice brought him an unexpected feeling of comfort. 

“Hey, anytime, Peter! I know it’s been really hard for you. Seeing him around here lately. And you don’t need me to tell you the obvious. But-” You timidly gazed down at your toes, shrugging. Peter knew exactly what you were about to say, before you parted your lips to say it.

Something along the lines of: Maybe it’s finally time you told him the truth. Or whatever.

It was too early for this kinda deep, introspective talk. Peter didn’t give you the chance to continue. Setting aside his mug on a countertop, he appeared by your side in a fwip. The breeze from his abrupt movement tickled your cheeks. He reached into the cabinet for the tub of coffee grounds. Handing it off to you with a tired, hooded expression. He sluggishly grinned.

“We got class in, like, twenty minutes.” Peter interrupted, and you took the bait. Whether you knew of his intent to dissuade the previous conversation, he couldn’t tell.

“Oh! Yeah! Shit!” You slapped a hand over your forehead. Peter gazed down at you, admiring your early morning features, “I’m so screwed!” Not yet you’re not, “I totally forgot to put together a lesson plan! I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do today!” Well…you could always do him. Again.

Jeez. Dude. No. The hell’s wrong with him?? Be reasonable, guy! At least take your buddy out to dinner first. Which...yeah. Might be time to think about asking you on a real date.

“Yeahhh. I kinda forgot too. Had a bunch of other stuff on my mind, yanno?” Peter said, completely lethargic. He shrugged, “I’m so bad at my job, man.” He kept his eyes on you, as you threw together your own pot of coffee.

“Actually, that’s bullshit. And I think you know it too. You’re amazing at it. That’s why all the kids love you so much.” You replied. Smiling like you meant every word. Because you did. Man, why'd you have to be so freakin' sweet?

Early morning sunlight beamed through the windows. It bathed your hair and face in sparkling gold. Peter wanted to kick himself for swooning. He opted to change subjects.

“I gotta take these decorations down eventually.” He said, gesturing to the streamers hanging from the kitchen ceiling. For an instant, he remembered tangling himself in them last night, “I keep puttin’ it off. But it’s gotta happen sooner ‘er later.” Taking initiative, he reached up to tear some of them down. Balling them up in his hands.

“I could help you! If you need an extra hand!” You offered, innocently sipping your coffee. Peter took in the curl of your lips as you smiled. He cleared his throat, chuckling.

“Y’know you don’t have to, babe. It’ll literally only take me a second. I just gotta stop sittin’ on my ass.” Peter said. He tossed the balled streamers with a failed, Michael Jordan-style execution. They landed in a nearby trashcan, “Pretty soon, I’m gonna have to put Christmas decorations up too. Might get started on 'em as soon as these ‘re down.” He smirked, “I’m thinkin’ I get everyone some seriously ugly sweaters. Even Mags, if he's still around by then. Oh, and I'll need more Snoopys. The crotch goblins love Snoopy.” Peter paused for a beat, his dark eyes drifting down your body. A subconscious instinct, “And-uhhhh…gonna need lots of tinsel…uh…”

Peter reached for his coffee mug. What was he talking about again?

“Oh? That all sounds nice!” You tilted your head to the side, flirtatiously grinning at Peter. As if you could tell how distracted he was by your body. Heat set aflame in his cheeks, as he glanced up into your eyes. Noticing the way they seemed to twinkle, “Think you’ll decorate the barn again too?” You asked, a flirtatious tease pouring through your tone.

He choked on his coffee mid-sip.

[captain-mj]

Home Video

Soap and Gaz find mysterious home videos in Price's garage

Price had enlisted Gaz to help him do some spring cleaning of a garage he had and Gaz had complained to Soap who had immediately volunteered to help them. Price had been less than thrilled that Gaz had invited Soap to help go through his personal things, but he could admit the garage was huge and filled to the brim so maybe it was fair. 

The three men stepped into it and Gaz groaned. “It looks like a hoarder has lived here for a couple of years!! How did this even happen??”

Price looked sheepish at least. “Yeah… So long story short, I uh… just shoved things in here for the longest time.” 

Soap and Gaz stared at him for a few minutes before Price sighed. “Okay, maybe I am a bit of a hoarder. But that’s besides the point. I want this cleaned.”

Soap examined it for a few minutes before sighing. “Alright, I volunteered. Not going to complain.”

“Cool. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“What??” Soap whipped around. 

Price sighed. “I’ll give you both twenty pounds. You don’t need to get all of it cleaned, just some of it okay?”

“Alright, Captain.” Gaz sighed and stepped into it. Soap got to work right next to him. Luckily nothing was gross, mostly just dusty, but items of all sorts were just… scattered. Everywhere. Clothes, children’s toys, model planes, military memorabilia and weirdly a box of christmas lights. Occasionally they’d get lucky and find a box. Soap noticed one of them had marker on it and it was filled to the brim with vhs tapes. Unlike everything that was boxed where it was clearly stuffed in there, these were neatly organized by year. He flipped the lid back over to see the label again and actually read it this time. 

“Tommy and Riley.” 

Soap frowned and tried to wrack his brain for any memory of who that could be. He was pretty sure he knew all of Price’s relatives. 

His mom? Dead but her name was Brenda. 

His dad? Dead but his name was Charles. 

No siblings. So no nephews or nieces. And not a single person that Soap could think of who would be named Tommy or Riley. 

“Gaz. I found something.” Soap picked up one of the older looking ones. It had a label, but it was smeared to hell. He could vaguely make out an S and IRTH. 

“Soap, you’re not going to believe this.” Gaz lifted up a VCR player. 

“It’s clearly fate.” Soap said immediately. 

“Exactly, we gotta watch them.” 

It took them a few minutes to set up in Price’s living room, but they managed to get everything up and running and they popped a tape in. 

There were four people. A blond lady, a dark haired man and their two sons, presumably. One of them looked like the spitting image of his mom with blond hair and the other was more ginger. The two boys were clearly excited. 

The lady lit a few candles on the cake in front of them. “How does it feel to be four Tommy?” She asked and her voice was so soft. It had a Manchester accent that reminded him a little bit of Ghost, but there was also a clear London influence. 

Tommy, the blond one, smiled up at her. He was missing a few teeth. A few more than the average kid his age, but maybe he just lost a bunch of his baby teeth at one time. “Cake!” 

She laughed and the other kid, who didn’t look much older, rolled his eyes. “Tommy! Hurry up and blow out the candles!!” 

Their mom ruffled his hair. “Hey, now, a little patience okay? Make a wish and blow out the candles.” 

Tommy seemed to think long and hard before blowing them out.

The man spoke for the first time and Soap’s heart jumped. It sounded like a scratchy version of Ghost’s voice and Soap did not like it. “What did you wish for kid?”

“For Simon to stop being a jerk!” Tommy poked his brother hard.

“Since you said your wish, it’s not going to come true!”

“Simon, stop antagonizing your brother.” 

Simon stuck his tongue out at Tommy while Soap had a mental breakdown.

“Simon Riley.” Soap put it together. “Oh my God, it’s fucking Ghost!” Gaz shifted, staring at the tiny kids on the screen. 

Soap watched the two of them squabble while their mom cut the cake. She smiled, but when she came a bit more into view, he noticed her arm was bandaged and it clearly hurt a bit to move it. Their father stayed in the same position, arms crossed over his chest and a bored look on his face. The video ended after a moment and Soap popped another one in. 

Gaz looked like he was going to say something for the briefest of moments before just watching them with him. 

The next one was similar. Just holiday stuff. Simon didn’t look very happy in this one, staring off in the distance for most of it. He winced when his dad hit his shoulder and quickly rubbed his arm like it hurt. His mom handed him a gift though and he beamed. 

“There’s my good boy.” She ruffled his hair as he unwrapped the present. He was methodical, undoing the tape so he could take the wrapping off without tearing it. Soap was fascinated. 

Gaz grabbed a video from further into the box and they were met with a teenage Tommy getting ready in a mirror. With skull makeup. It was uncanny, the only difference between the two being their eyes. Tommy’s were a bright green. Simon stood next to him, slightly shorter than him. At first, Soap thought he had to be sitting down, but no. He was in fact slightly shorter. 

Simon leaned into his younger brother, makeup covered the bottom half of his face, making a giant fake Glasgow smile that Soap felt was a little ironic considering Ghost had a real one. 

“You done?” Simon’s voice had just started to deepen, sounding a little more like the voice Soap was used to hearing over comms. It definitely sounded younger though, clearly a teen. He also looked like a teen, mostly thanks to him wearing dorky sunglasses and a leather jacket that didn’t fit his shoulders right. 

“Give me a second, Si.” Tommy grumbled, voice still cracking a little from puberty. He looked annoyed as he once again tried to get the lines straight. He finally managed and looked proud of himself. “How do I look?”

“Like a loser.” Simon responded but he smiled at him. Tommy rolled his eyes and picked up the camera. The two of them left then with him carrying the camera around. Both of them were talking about something and then they set the camera in the back of a car. Their dad climbed into the driver’s side and he looked at Simon in the front seat.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?”

“Uh…” 

His dad took them off his face and Simon’s eyes were very red. There was also some bruising where it looked like he had been decked. 

“Are you high?”

“Yeah. Got some weed from Jason. You want some, dad?”

His dad laughed. “Course you’d get high on something like weed. Nah, I’m good. Got some needles in the back.” He ruffled Simon’s hair who smiled, relaxing into his seat. 

Soap looked at Gaz who looked just as taken back by it. Simon fixed his sunglasses and they continued going to wherever they were going. His dad put on the radio and they all three belted out the 90’s rock. 

Soap wondered if Simon still listened to it. Did he sing in the car when they weren’t around?

Once he got out, he saw that their dad also had skull paint on and he looked even more like Simon than Tommy did. He looked at the camera for a moment before hitting Tommy rather hard for it to be playful. “Fucking idiot, you ran the battery down. I swe-” The camera clicked close. 

Soap decided to pick the next one, since Gaz obviously had bad taste, and he got one that was on the complete other side of the box. He slipped it in and sat next to Gaz eagerly. 

An adult Simon and Tommy. Simon must’ve finally gotten taller because he was now several inches taller than Tommy. They were at a concert and clearly high on something, but they looked happy. Soap couldn’t argue that. Tommy kept glancing at Simon, clearly wanting to say something but Simon didn’t acknowledge it. The video went out for a bit, some shitty rock band playing live in the background. 

“Hey Simon?”

“Yeah?”

Tommy paused before shaking his head. “I’m so-”

“Don’t be. Stuff happens. As long as it wasn’t you that got hurt.”

“But your ribs…”

“I’ll be fine. I’m your older brother. It’s my job to protect you, ya know?” Simon smiled and it looked sad. 

They changed that one rather fast. 

It opened to a group of fish. They were all moving about slowly.

A small child started to talk. “Did you know sharks are older than trees?

“Really?” Ghost. Soap recognized his voice right away. “I did not know that.” He sounded like he was smiling.

“Also, scientists can age sharks like a tree too!” 

“No way. How could they do that?”

“They count the rings on their vertebrae.” The camera turned to them. Soap wasn’t sure who was holding the camera, but he didn’t really need to. Simon was standing there, unmasked and wearing a short sleeved shirt. His arms were covered in little tattoos and on his shoulders was a small kid. Tiny little hands were buried in Ghost’s hair to keep himself stable. “But they have to hurt the sharks to do that.” 

Simon smiled, looking like the absolute gift he was. “Yeah. We don’t want that. If I meet any sharks, I’ll just ask their birthday, huh Joseph?”

Joseph smiled and they looked exactly like each other. Simon took him off his shoulders and started walking to the camera person, swinging Joseph back and forth as he walked. There were scars on his face already. Soft ones along his mouth. But he looked so pretty. So young too. Rather young to be a father, though the way he talked with the kid and the fact that there didn’t seem to be anyone else, it made sense. 

Was the person holding the camera the mom? Were they married? Just dating? Were they still together? Ghost was also on leave. Was he with her right now? 

Soap had never really… thought of that. He should’ve, but stuff like that doesn’t always come out during conversations with soldiers. Ghost was a lone wolf though, so Soap always assumed he was completely alone. 

How old was this kid now? Based on the age, he assumed the kid would be a teen now, right? 

Simon threw the kid in the air and caught him, hugging him close to his chest. He laughed. Genuinely. It was so sweet sounding. He smiled right at the camera. 

“You two look cute!” 

Simon blushed. “Ah, it’s all the little guy.” 

“Yeah, that’s fair.” 

Joseph kicked his feet and Simon put him down. He clinged to Simon’s hand as they walked. Simon was clearly about to say something but the video ended. 

Gaz looked at Soap. “Ghost is a dad??”

“Oh my God, Ghost is a dad.” Soap echoed, staring at the now blank screen. “He picked the name Joseph though. What a boring name.” He looked away and hoped Gaz wouldn’t catch his expression. 

Ghost was a dad and never told him? He understood everyone else. Price obviously knew. But why not tell him? They were close he thought! 

Gaz popped another one in while he was distracted. It was from the same section so it was more about Joseph. All of the focus was on the kid actually. Where before, the camera was just pointed in their general vicinity, someone was clearly holding the camera to make sure to capture everything. 

Joseph tore open his presents with a fierce ferocity, grinning. He grabbed the legos and immediately looked at Simon who was just off to the side.

“Ya gotta help me build them!!” 

Simon nodded. “I will, don’t worry.” He smiled at him. His hair was buzzed like the standard military cut. The rest of the birthday went with most of the focus on Joseph, who looked even more like Simon than before, and occasionally a pretty lassie with red hair. 

Soap got an answer to who was behind the camera when Simon smiled at him. “Cute kid right Tommy?”

“Fucking cutest.”

“Swear jar.” 

“Kill yourself, Simon.”

Simon laughed and Beth smiled at the camera too. Joseph seemed oblivious to the adults around him, still trying to tear open another present. 

The next video was a little more confusing. There was jostling and it was just Tommy. He set the camera down for just a moment to fix himself. After making sure his rather casual outfit was straight, he picked up the sign that had a simple “Sergeant Simon Riley” painted on it. He held it up immediately and beamed, completely forgetting the camera on the seat. 

Simon slowly made his way over. There was a very pronounced limp and he was holding himself like he was in a lot of pain. Tommy looked worried, but he grabbed everything and they got a glimpse at the bandages. They were wrapped all the way around Soap’s throat and were across the bottom half of his face. Dark circles under his eyes gave away how exhausted he was. 

“Hey, Si… you okay?”

Simon blinked slowly before nodding. He went to take another step but Tommy quickie got under his arm, offering support. The camera went off.

“Price might be here soon. It’s been close to an hour.” Gaz pointed out, but Soap could see it. The curiosity for more. More answers, more information, more of seeing Ghost not be… Ghost. 

“Just one more.” Soap grabbed another one from that side of the box and popped it in. 

He could tell as soon as it started playing that something was wrong. 

Simon looked… exhausted. He had a medical mask on and a hoodie, yet still seemed to be shivering. His eyes were another factor. They shifted around frantically, clearly afraid of something, even though he was in the exact same home he had been in. 

The camera was from an odd angle, like someone was recording him from a different room. 

Joseph slipped past the cameraman and Soap saw an older woman’s hand reach out to grab him but it was too late. Joseph stood right in front of Simon and all of his attention was immediately on him. 

“Hey, Joseph.”

“Do you want to watch movies with me?”

There was a pause. The kid had certainly aged, must’ve been at least a year since the last one, but he was still so young. A baby in the grand scheme of things. 

Simon slowly scooted over to make room but Joseph still sat right next to him, invading his personal space as children often did. He put on a movie himself, it looked like a Disney one, and started talking.

“Mom said you used to watch movies with me all the time, especially when I was little. She said you worried about dropping me so you only ever held me if you sitting down.”

Simon shrugged. “You were tiny. Still are.”

“Hey! I’m 5 now!” 

“Still tiny. Worried I’d… hurt you somehow.” 

“Mom and Grandma said you’re scared now. Is it because you think that again?”

Simon slowly reached up and pushed his hood back. His hair was far longer and not evenly cut. Soap could see where there was scarring along his throat as well as the edges of bandages that went under his mask. “No. I don’t think I’d hurt you.” 

“Good. So you’re going to keep watching movies with me right?”

“Yeah. I’ll always watch movies you, kid.” Simon didn’t relax as Joseph cuddled up to him. Even after Joseph fell asleep, he stayed stiff. 

The person holding the camera moved closer and Simon immediately moved his head to look at her. He was afraid for just a moment and his hands immediately covered Joseph to protect him first.

“Hey, Mum.” Simon’s eyes were tired, but… they weren’t Ghost’s. There was a spark of something there that wasn’t present in Ghost’s. 

“I knew he could cheer you up.” 

Simon let out a tiny huff and his eyes started to close. Her hand gently cupped his cheek and he finally relaxed. “There’s my good boy.” She whispered softly and he let out a shaky breath, like he was trying not to cry. He fell asleep after a few minutes and she tucked them both in. 

“You kept them?” 

Soap and Gaz both screamed, looking up at Ghost who seemed impassive. There was nothing in his eyes to indicate anything, let alone something as trivial as how he was feeling. 

Price grimaced. “Yeah. I had planned on giving them back to you when I found you in Mexico, but you were in such a bad place I decided to wait and then I just never found a good time.” 

Ghost nodded and watched as his Mom set the camera down on the counter as she did her hair. She must’ve forgot the camera was still on. 

“You’re a dad?” Gaz asked, much braver than Soap ever could be about it.

“Joseph is my nephew.” Ghost explained, not taking his eyes off the screen. She pulled away to start making tea, humming a Beatles song as she did. She must’ve heard something because she disappeared suddenly and then was leading a shaking Simon in. He held on to her, looking more like a lost kid than a 6’4 adult man. 

“Sit down, love.” 

“She had sixth sense for when I had nightmares. Even when I was a kid.” Ghost sounded delicate. It was new. Price gave them a signal to keep quiet. “When I came home, I had them so often, but she would always be there. Usually with a cup of tea or she’d try to push me back to bed.”

She started speaking again and Ghost went quiet, just like the version of him on the screen, he hung on every word. “You’re okay. You’re right here with me, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Whatever happened, whatever they said, you’re alive, safe at home. We all are, alright Simon?”

Simon nodded slowly and tried to grab the cup she set down in front of him. His hands shook too hard, the liquid spilling on to his fingers. He winced and she quickly took the cup from him to set it down. She made sure the burns weren’t too bad before smiling. 

All at once, she remembered the camera and quickly grabbed it. “Oh i was supposed to be recording Joseph but he ran off to play with you and I just got so…” She shut the camera and the video ended. 

Ghost stared and Soap saw it. The tiny flicker of sadness. Soap grabbed his hand, deciding to try to be brave. 

“What happened to her?”

“Same thing that happened to Joseph and Tommy and Beth. They’re a bunch of gravestones.” 

“Seems they really cared about you.” 

“...Yeah. They really did.”

[rqgnarok]

Maybe a Jaime x reader where the whole teams know they’re dating but still flirt with the reader to get under Jamie’s skin? Luv you!

"You're an idiot."

Jamie doesn't jump anymore whenever Roy sneaks on him, but right now it's a close thing. He looks away from you for just a second, the image of you laughing and pushing at Isaac's chest making his teeth grind together painfully.

"Fuck you," Jamie says automatically. "...What for?"

"They're doing it on purpose," the older man says, nodding at where the entire team surrounds you like you're Zava or something, fighting playfully for your attention with jokes and stories and stalling you when you and Jamie should've been out for dinner already, enjoying a nice glass of wine over appetizers and footsie under the table. "You're like a fucking brick wall right now. If I'd tried to punch you I'd fuck up my hand with how tense you are."

You'd just come in to pick him up from practice and now you're never leaving the locker room again. Just his luck, huh?

"Why would you even punch me for?"

"Take your pick," Roy grunts. "They love you, but they're assholes. It's in their DNA. They're trying to mess with you."

"Ain't tryin', are they?" Jamie grumbles, arms crossed on top of his chest and a frown permanent on his expression. Is this how Roy stands every day? It's exhausting. "Doin' it, more like."

Roy sighs.

"Look," his voice is softer now, kinder, though Jamie's sure if he mentions something about it he'll get that punch Roy was talking about. "You're in a committed relationship now, and we're happy for you. Fuck, we never thought it'd happen-"

"Thanks, man-"

"But," Roy cuts him off with a gentle nudge to the shoulder, and Jamie finally focuses enough on him to see his expression: open and earnest. "They'd be doing this with anyone's date. You're just taking it personally because it's yours they're flirting with. If it were anyone else you'd be there joining the fun. Because that's all it is. Harmless fun"

And he's right. He's right! Of course, he's right, but Jamie's still not used to this: You, in his life and in his bed and his heart and in no one else's. It's a little too good to be true so this- seeing you shine under his teammates' attention- is too soon.

Even if he knows none of you would do anything to intentionally hurt him, Jamie's brain isn't too big on rationality right now. Not while Bumbercatch delivers what must be a terrible line that has you snorting and hiding a laugh behind a cough.

Fuck, you look gorgeous. Date night is gonna fucking rule. As soon as he gets you out of the circle of football players that's been built around you, of course.

Jamie opens his mouth to thank Roy, but he just rolls his eyes and pushes him towards you. "Go get 'em, you prick."

Jamie's laugh is a little bashful but he goes, and his teammates open up a path for him like the Red Sea for him to find himself face to face with you. Your expression brightens when you see him this near, and Jamie's anxieties are already crumbling at the sight of you.

"Hey," you say, looking at him knowingly and reaching unabashedly to take his hand in yours, squeezing comfortingly. "You ready to go?"

"Gotta do one more thing," he says, leaning in close. "Before I forget-"

He kisses you full on the mouth, deep and a little languid while cupping the back of your neck. You're surprised at the public display of affection but sink into it easily, cupping the back of his neck tenderly as he holds your waist, touch firm and safe.

The guys begin laughing and whistling, scattered claps going around the locker room in response to Jamie taking matters into his own hands. When you part you're looking a little dazed, breathless from the kiss, and wearing that look on your face that means you're itching for more.

Jamie's more than glad to be of service.

"Right. Now I'm ready."

[loganwritesprobably]

Hi is it possible for you to write about a reader(gn) who takes care of Chopper like he's their child? I've always thought Chopper was adorable and wanted to spoil him like he was my kid.

Dancing In The Rain

Hey anon - thank you so much for this request! It was lovely to write something so sweet, and platonic! It's a little bit short, but I hope you enjoy it

Listen to the playlist Read the fic here on AO3 or below the cut

Notes/Warnings: Chopper & GN!Reader, parental reader, dancing in the rain,

You'd joined the crew shortly after they'd left Alabasta. You met them on Jaya, and you couldn't resist the call to join them - they had such big dreams, and people on Jaya just seemed.. complacent. You'd never achieve anything if you stayed here, so when Luffy offered you his hand at the final moment before they set off to take the knock up stream to find the sky island, you figured at least it would be a cool death if they didn't succeed, and you took his hand. You'd been with them ever since.

You were sailing between islands, with the crew scattered across the deck. The weather wasn't the best you'd experienced but it was enough for you all to be out and enjoying the salty sea air. Nami and Usopp were sitting together, animatedly chatting about something; Zoro was leaning up against the railing and taking a nap; Sanji was doing something in the kitchen, probably for Robin and Nami; Luffy and Brook were sitting amongst the tangerine trees and talking about piracy; Franky and Robin were tucked up together while she read a book and he brainstormed invention ideas; and Jinbei was of course steering the ship. It was sweet. You loved just watching the crew interact, and relax in their downtime between huge battles. It was then that you realised you weren't sure where Chopper was. You took another glance around the ship, and pushing off the wall you'd been leaning on, you noticed he was tucked up with Zoro taking a nap, he'd been obscured by Nami. You smiled, glad you'd spotted him, and relaxed once again.

The issue with the Grand Line is that the weather can be utterly unpredictable. Nami looked up at the sky with narrowed, scrutinising eyes, and after just a few words, she and Ussop packed up to head inside, Robin noticed them go and prompted Franky to follow. Surely enough, just a minute or so later, the heavens opened and sheets of water began falling from the sky in heavy rainfall.

Zoro woke slowly, frowning up at the sky, where Chopper remained asleep on the swordsman's chest. You walked over toward them, smiling at Zoro as you gently woke Chopper. He'd slept plenty anyway. "Gotta get inside, we'll all catch a cold." You said with a soft laugh as Chopper slowly woke, blinking slowly as his brain caught up with what was happening. He looked up and let a few droplets of rain fall, allowing you to pick him up as you did. "Rain actually doesn't make people catch a cold." Chopper told you as he continued watching the rain fall as if hypnotised, hardly even acknowledging you. You nodded for Zoro to head inside, and he happily did so, content to find somewhere less wet to take a nap.

You were about to follow suit, taking Chopper with you, when from beneath the protection of the branches of the tangerine trees, Brook began to sing and play his violin. Luffy joined him shortly after, pitchy as ever. You were temporarily stunned, but found that your heart felt warm. This was your crew - your family. Chopper began to sing along from his place in your arms, and unable to resist, you joined them too. You begin to step and twirl around the deck in something resembling a dance, and after a moment Chopper hopped down from your hold and changed popped a rumble ball, shifting to jump point. He took your hands in his own and the two of you began twirling around to the music.

You couldn't help your joyful laughter, giggles escaping you between lyrics of the song Brook was playing as you spun around the deck with Chopper, becoming increasingly soaked by the rain. It was such a silly use of a rumble ball, but why shouldn't he be able to use them to bring himself joy? He was still a kid, after all. It didn't take long for Luffy to jump down from beneath the trees and join you in the rain, wrapping his arms around you to join your not-quite-dance, and then other crew members quickly came to follow.

You danced and sang while Brook played music, making the most of a good day despite the weather.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: ⊹.🩺. ⊹ :☆｡ﾟ･ ───

Later that night, after dinner, you carried Chopper in your arms toward the med bay. The other boys were still being rowdy, and you wanted Chopper to rest well. You backed into the door carefully to push it open, using your foot to make sure it closed softly, and rested the young reindeer on the bed. He stirred for just a moment before pulling the blanket further up toward his face and cuddling further into the pillow. You sat on the edge of the bed, gently removing his hat and setting it aside, then reached to brush your fingers through his hair.

He was such a sweet boy, and so much had happened in his life. If you could, you'd wrap him up tight and keep him safe for the rest of your lives, because he was just a kid and he should be protected. But his dream was to heal people, and who were you to take that away from him? You left the room briefly and returned with a glass of water which you left beside his hat, so if he wanted a drink when he woke then it was there for him.

Before leaving again, for the last time to let him rest, you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, carefully tucking the blanket in around his small body to keep him safe and warm. He didn't stir this time, just remained in a peaceful sleep. Carefully so as to not wake up, you stood and left the room, ensuring the door closed as softly as possible behind you. You didn't have kids of your own, at least not yet, but you'd like to think Chopper came close to that.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots

[the-elder-polls]

so. i was enabled. tags courtesy of @trickstarbrave (hope you don't mind being tagged, if you do i'll remove it) who is what started my nerevar/lorkhan fascination because i him saw mention this once, causing me to lore deep dive and come out the other side, once again, like this.

once again, disclaimer that i am scatter brained and bad with getting my thoughts into words etc etc please be nice to me or i will cry

so. about the parallels between nerevar and lorkhan

to even try to start, lorkhan was killed/mutilated/brutalized/etc and his heart was separated from the rest of him. there are conflicting sources with saying this was a punishment, while others say he consented to it. regardless of his willingness, his divinity was subsequently exiled/fell/whatever to the nirn. there's a VERY obvious parallel here of nerevar being betrayed and killed/mutilated by whoever it was that killed him and the subsequent nerevarine prophecy.

nerevar, son of boethiah. this is a title given to nerevar, supposedly by lorkhan himself, in the five kings of wulfharth. that's not particularly much on its own. nerevar being a demiprince would hilariously not be that big of a deal considering everything else about him. the reason i'm mentioning this is the 10th sermon of vivec, which notes boethiah as saying about/to lorkhan, "We pledge ourselves to you, the Frame-maker, the Scarab: a world for us to love you in, a cloak of dirt to cherish. Betrayed by your ancestors when you were not even looking. […]" the gods of tes are known for being weird (to put it lightly). i personally think boethiah was in fact the mother-father of nerevar; that nerevar was created for the purpose of being the shezarrine; and that lorkhan, in his weird state, was still fully aware of this. also, again, the parallels of betrayal and mutilation are obvious when you compare whatever happened to nerevar to whatever happened to lorkhan.

nords revere lorkhan as shor, believing he sacrificed his life to help create the world as it is. nerevar and the nerevarine prophecy have some parallels here, i think. nerevar's life was sacrificed "for the greater good" (the eventual downfall of the tribunal as gods, the destruction of dagoth ur) to help "create" the world as it is.

at least one myth (the favored daughter of fadomai) describes azura as finding "[…] broken and bleeding, and there was a hole in his chest." and that she then tore his heart out due to it being corrupted by rot (hi, namira). foul murder is NOT canon, but i think it's worth taking it into consideration here, given that nerevar is depicted in foul murder as impaled through the heart. (i can't really get my thoughts together with what i want to say about this, but i want you to note azura and lorkhan being so strongly associated in this myth. given the EVERYTHING ELSE, it makes sense.)

following on the previous point, the claim that azura appeared and cursed the tribunal for their usage of the heart and their betrayal of nerevar is a good parallel for her finding the wounded lorkhan.

one nordic source (five kings of king wulfharth) states that lorkhan reappeared somehow at the battle of red mountain, reunited with his heart, and that he wounded nerevar before nerevar defeated/killed/etc him. given the absolute absurdity of tes lore, i don't think it's far fetched to say that this could be true in a roundabout way: nerevar WAS lorkhan, or more accurately, the shezarrine. whatever happened at red mountain was a Whole Thing that we don't have concrete answers to. i personally think the proximity to the heart gave nerevar a fucking power up of some sort/allowed him to channel lorkhan much more intensely, which helped him in the next point:

the same source claims that lorkhan said the dwemer would die by his hand which, again, while i'm stretching (all of tes lore is stretching lbr but anyway), i gotta point out that nerevar and the disappearance of the dwemer are intrinsically linked. there's no denying that. if nerevar was the shezarrine, then this could be true - when dumac was struck down by nerevar and kagrenac truck the heart, the dwemer vanished. it's a bit roundabout, but it's not incorrect. ["Nevertheless, it is true that they will die by my hand, and any whoever should side with them."]

also the tribunal's jealousy of nerevar + his outright refusal to use the heart makes a lot of sense if he already had some of that godly power and they didn't. if they saw him at his full potential due to the heart and wanted it for themselves.

anyway. who said that

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 57 : The King's fear

Okay so we caught up with all the chapters already published on AO3 🎉🎉. That means from now the chapters published on Tumblr will have the same rate as the one published on AO3, which is once a week (don't have a particular precise day). It happens that I can't publish one week but that just means you'll get two chapters next week.

So see you next week for next chap 😉

The whole team was huddled inside the lounging room, all pressed together around the mahogany table holding the three scrolls. The messenger birds took flight the moment they were free of their duties. Leaving in the endless azure expanse. Wukong lifted one hand and took the gaudiest scrolls, the one carefully etched with various embroideries. He untied the golden ribbon and unraveled the scroll, skimming over the neatly written words. He raised an eyebrow at the occasional taunts his self-proclaimed sworn-brother scattered around the lines. Truly, Cheng never missed an opportunity to piss him off. Yet he couldn't help but let his lips slightly curl upward, for some reason the gibes humored him, it reminded him of younger days when he would blithely banter with the members of the brotherhood. 

Wukong shook off his thoughts and put the scroll down. He glanced at the ones holding the other scrolls and noticed they also finished their readings. Mei looked quite pleased with what she read on her great-grandfather's scroll. Her face was brightened with something akin to hope. As to Red Son, his face was genuinely harder to read, but by the slim upward curl of his lips, he seemed quite content too.

Mei was the first one to speak, she seemed as if she couldn't hold in the information she was just given. 

“So my great uncy listed some craftsman he worked with but he said if you want someone nearing Laozi's level you gotta go see the Jeweler.” Wukong perked up at this particular title, precisely because this cryptic character was also mentioned by Cheng.

“The bird-brain also mentions this Jeweler.” Hummed Wukong. “After raving about the lantern's pieces sensitivity he said that only a nimble craftsmen of the highest skills could handle them, and not a lot of people had those skills. He listed some known craftsmen but said that their prices would be very heavy, and the Jeweler was one of the only skilled craftsmen that gave quick , efficient work and affordable prices for their services.”

“My parents also bring up this person. They said that even though they never worked with them, Ou Xue, the blacksmith they often commission, know them quite personally. According to Ou Xue the Jeweler is a being capable of naturally crossing the layers between the mortal realm and the Diyu, as such they can freely travel between them without any restrictions. With their ability, the Jeweler learned a lot of techniques from the dead themselves, making them a skilled craftsman.”

Tang looked up at this tidbit of information, he put one hand over his chin, eyes glazed over by swirling thoughts. “Didn't we already come across someone with the same ability?” His input made the whole team look over. Wukong frowned, trying to jag up his rusty memory. Perhaps because of his old age, he was quicker to forget things he didn't concern himself with. 

“Did we?” Mumbled MK, he rubbed his temples in hope of suddenly remembering what the scholar was referring to, in vain, of course. 

“When King Yama was disclosing the origins of the rebels, he said the one who brought the lantern piece in the Diyu was someone able to naturally cross the layers between the mortal realm and the Diyu without having to use magic, someone who is not written in the Book of Life and Death.” Defogged Tang. Wukong's eyes shone with remembrance, he opened his mouth, the name on the edge of his lips-

“The Red-Buttocked Horse-Monkey, he gave her the nickname Mahou.” Cut Macaque. They all remembered at the name's mention. 

“You think this Jeweler person is Mahou?” Hummed Pigsy, it wasn't that far-fetched to think this, after all the natural ability both the Jeweler and Mahou possessed wasn't that common. 

“Are we going to meet another celestial monkey!?” Chimed MK, excitement overflowing his gaze. Tang straightened up at the mere idea, looking every bit like a hound in search of wisdom. Wukong sweatdropped at the scene. He remembered when the scholar hounded him with a barrel of questions and he silently prayed for Mahou, apologizing in advance. 

“No matter if they are the same person, do we all agree to go seek this Jeweler?” Chimed Red Son, his intervention refocused them on the urgent matter they were faced with. Right. No matter who the Jeweler was as long as they were able to help. They all agreed easily. 

MK put the compass on the table, even if they weren't certain of the Jeweler's identity, as long as they had a vague idea in mind, the compass would point the way. Nonetheless, Red Son did remind them that, due to the limited information they had concerning the Jeweler's nature and physical appearances, the compass capacities would be hindered and not as precise as before. 

After they decided on what to do, Sandy stood up to heat up the engines. Wukong trailed him with his gaze. Perhaps, he should bring up the feral state matter now more than ever. The great sage didn't believe that he could sort out his every issues with one measle session but he also didn't want to embark in a brand new adventure without doing anything about the feral state. Considering their track record, it was more than likely that they would encounter some sort of problems while searching for the Jeweler, and Wukong didn't want to relapse in the feral state because of a sudden spike of stress. Yet Wukong also couldn't help but hesitate. He already asked so much of Sandy, of his time, of his understanding, would he bother him if he added the feral state on top of the growing pile of issues he was working with him? 

He was tugged out of his thoughts by a light tap on his shoulder. Wukong looked up and crossed eyes with Macaque. The black-furred monkey smiled at him, something soft meant to be encouraging, before strutting away to the showers, eager to wash off the grim of his early training. Wukong felt better. The mere idea of having someone backing him up was enough to push him forward. The great sage thus followed in Sandy's wake, Sock trailed after him the second he left the lounging room. 

Wukong didn't often come into the control room, he didn't know how to steer the ship after all so there was no point in him stepping foot in here. It was quite spacious. An encompassing window was at the front, clearing the view for the one steering the ship. Sandy was leaning over the control panel, heating the engines with a flick of finger. The ship purred at each of his gestures. Mo was sitting on one corner of the panel, lounging lazily with one paw swinging in the void, he looked every bit like a spoiled pet. Sandy perked up when he heard the door creaking open, he turned towards the sound and smiled at the sight of Wukong. 

“Hey.” Wukong awkwardly rubbed his neck and approached the tea-lover. Sock jumped on the panel and pawed at Mo, the blue-furred cat huffed but let her do as she pleased. Once she was content, Sock lay down next to him and tidied herself, licking her snow-white paws clean. Wukong smiled at the sight. 

“Something’s the matter, Mister King?” Sandy tilted his head in inquiry, wondering what the great sage wanted. 

“Yeah, huh… I was wondering if we could do some sort of solo session for the feral state? If it doesn't bother you.” Explain Wukong with a sigh on his lips. Sandy considered the matter for a short second before returning to the panel.

“Yeah, of course. Let me just put the ship on auto-pilot.” Hummed the gentle giant. Wukong nodded, he peeked over Sandy's bulky shoulder to see how he was controlling the ship. The tea-lover was carefully watching the compass (which was put on the panel) and entered the coordinates in the ship's computer. The ship immediately whirred to life, it shook and creaked, the metal humming with power. Sandy pushed the lever placed on top of the panel, at once the ship purred, the fire roared, and the beast left the soil. 

Once the ship flight was stabilized, Sandy hummed in satisfaction and patted himself on the shoulder in a small form of congratulation. Wukong smiled at the gesture. Then, the tea-lover turned towards the great sage and inquired :

“Do you want to do this in your room, Mister King?”

“Yeah.” It was the place he felt the safest, and thus the most convenable place for this type of confrontation. Sandy nodded, then they both left the control room side by side. Both cats followed their tracks.

Wukong sat on his bed, the mattress dipping a bit under his weight, welcoming him like a long-time friend. Sock jumped on his lap and made herself comfortable, her warmth was so familiar at this point Wukong didn't even know how he managed to spend a single day without burying his hand in fluffy russet-fur before. Sandy took a portable gourd out of his pocket (it was of medium size with drawings of cats scattered all over it). He uncapped the lid, which turned out to be a cup, and served the sage a cup of tea. It wasn't his favorite purple tea but it was delightful nonetheless. Wukong took a sip, loosening the bitter feeling taking hold of his throat. No matter how many times he did it, breaching a new topic in therapy always demanded an egregious effort. 

Sandy let him brew in silence, as always waiting for him to find his mark. Once he finishes his cup, Wukong sighed before jumping right at the heart of the matter. 

“To be honest, I know this sole session is not going to solve everything and it'll probably take a lot of time before I'm fully healed but… I really want to take care of this feral state, I don't want Macaque to worry.”

“And so you believe sessions are in order to help you heal?” Kindly hummed Sandy. 

“Yes. The feral state is not a physical issue…” It was a bit embarrassing to admit it, even if by now it was obvious to everyone and anyone. A wound gained in battle, no matter how ugly, was a proof of braveness, a proof of surviving. But a wound on the mind… wasn't it an admission of weakness? Somehow, the feral state felt different than his other issues, perhaps because this particular wound triggered a physical reaction, proof that he was scarred deeper than he was willing to believe. 

“Do you have any idea what might trigger the feral state?” Asked Sandy. Wukong played with some of Sock's strands, twirling them around his finger. He did have an idea… 

“Stress. Pressure…” He dug deeper in his memories, trying to see what exactly made him relapse in the Diyu. All at once flashes of images appeared in his mind. Macaque being threatened. Macaque being attacked. The not-mayor coldness. Her shadow behind the puppet's body. Without even thinking he blurted out : “her.”

Sandy raised an eyebrow, he waited a few seconds for him to distance himself from the disturbing images appearing in his head before inquiring : “Who do you mean by ‘her’”

Wukong tightened his hold over Sock, as if he was grabbing a rock in the middle of a stormy sea. The lil lady turned his way, she leaned over one of his hands and began to conscientiously lick it. The great sage hummed, relaxed by the grooming. “The Lady Bone Demon.” Answered Wukong. 

“You thought of her?”

“I guess the not-mayor reminded me of her.” Sighed Wukong, he didn't like to talk about LBD. Even if he wasn't tormented by her image anymore (thanks to Macaque and Sock's presences) he still felt agitated at her mere mention. 

“Both times you fell in the feral state the Lady Bone Demon was involved, do you think it might be linked?”

“Yeah… The first time I just… I was just broken out of the possession and I..” Wukong bit his lips, he averted his eyes, not wanting to look Sandy upfront. “I was afraid.” He admitted in a quiet voice. “The second time, I saw Macaque being threatened by her puppet and I… I was afraid of losing him.” Sandy nodded at his explanations, he then softly added :

“It seems as if your fear is the main trigger of the feral state….especially-”

“My fear of her.” Cut Wukong with a solemn face. In truth, it's not as if he didn't think of it, but the idea of being controlled by his own fear wasn't something he liked to consider, as such he always pushed the subject away, sealing it deep within him. 

“Can you discern when this fear of the Lady Bone Demon began?”

Wukong opened his mouth, ready to say that it began when he was possessed, but the deeper he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn't very true. “... If I have to be honest… probably on the journey.” He stopped talking for a few seconds, each word passing his lips were as heavy as iron. “She was the first enemy that I couldn't beat with my bare fists. I… I had a lot of pride back then and I didn't lose a lot. Even when I lost against the Jade Emperor, I gave him some damages… but her…” The great sage closed his eyes, he could feel a ghostly chill climb up his spine. “She… she wasn't something I could punch, she just lied and lied and lied and they all believed her and I felt so… helpless.”

“How did you vanquish her at the time?” Wukong snorted in depreciation at the question. 

“I wasn't even the one to defeat her, Master sealed her.” Scoffed Wukong, this stain always followed him, it felt like he never truly won even centuries after. Even if she was imprisoned. He felt like he was the one who lost that day. 

“Do you think the possession could have reinforced that fear?” Carefully asked the gentle giant. Wukong flinched. The mere mention of the possession made him tense. It has been one of the worst experiences he lived through. Yet he didn't want to flee from its memory. Not anymore. 

“The possession was…” He searched for words, a way to explain what he felt at this moment. “I have many wounds. I went through many battles, I even cut my own head once but this…it… s-she took my body. She stole it from me… I… I felt helpless. Like I couldn't do anything. Like I was weak…” He pursed his lips and gripped Sock tighter, he felt like he was at the edge of a cliff, one wrong push and he would be engulfed by his own memories. 

“Did you want to hide?”

“Yeah… I…” It was bitter. He was a fighter. He loved battles. He loved the thrill of the fights, the blood, the sparks, the adrenaline. He never ran because he loved to challenge himself, he loved to test his strength. He never ran. But against her… “I hated it. I hated the fight. I never hated a fight so much before. I just wanted to run away.”

“So the feral state could be the consequences of this desire to run away?”

“It's likely.” Sighed Wukong. “Ah, what a joke, the Monkey King running away from a fight.”

“You know, Mister King. You being a legendary hero doesn't mean you're not allowed to run away sometimes.” Wukong's eyebrows twitched at that. “You seem to hold yourself to very harsh standards because of your status as a hero. But I want you to know that it's okay to be afraid. You don't have to bear everything alone. Me, MK, Mister Maquawke, we can share your burdens. If you feel… helpless, it's okay to hide behind us.”

Wukong felt his throat tighten. It felt daunting to be told this. That he could depend on others. Yet it felt good. “Thanks big guy… I don't really know how to deal with this fear of mine though…”

“I personally believe that your feral state is very close to a more intense form of PTSD, and there are some exercises possible to help with these kinds of situations.”

“Really?” Asked Wukong, a bit hopeful at the idea of doing something that could ease this fear of his. 

“You're already familiar with one of them, meditation.” Smiled Sandy. “Maybe we can begin with this one. And… if anything, remember that you can stop the exercise at any point and that I am here to assist you.”

Wukong nodded, it's been a while since he truly meditated. Last time he did it, it was less to clean his mind and more to tune in with his magic. The great sage wanted to do it right. He conjured incense sticks with a piece of hair and lit them with a flick of wrist. The comforting smell of sandalwood drifted in the room, the smoke dancing above the sticks like the ribbons of dancers. Wukong removed Sock from his lap and arranged himself in the lotus position. He closed his eyes and slowed his breath, focusing on his inner self. 

He knew he wouldn't be able to clear his fear with just one meditation session, but it was a step in the right direction. 

As Sandy often repeated, they didn't need to go fast, and every little step mattered. 

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[dr-spectre]

Ranting about the Splatoon Fandom Wiki....

I wanna quickly make fun of the Splatoon fandom wiki because like most fandom wikis, it's covered with ads unless you use an adblocker, is poorly formatted, poorly structured, has less info than Inkipedia, doesn't update frequently, has missing information, and genuinely is less "professional" than Inkipedia. It also just copies and pastes info from Inkipedia too so there's that as well... I'm not exactly sure how fandom wiki works and how the moderation works but it seems scattered and not good enough by any means.

Like Callie's page for example has this weird ass paragraph that says Callie was left unstable after Splatoon 2??? And it contains a lot of errors and a very weird subjective piece of text in what is supposed to be an objective as possible page, cause you know, ITS A WIKI!!!

She wants to splat shielded Octarians over and over again because that's just in line with her character, she's energetic and silly, she doesn't give a fuck that you need to go behind them to attack them better, she's just gonna splat them up front with her roller, that's just who she is, she represented team Show No Mercy in Splatoon 1 for a reason. Also that dialogue is cut off from what she actually says to further paint this idea that Callie is some broken unstable girl who was a victim of kidnapping and forced brainwashing, for some fucking reason i don't know. I can't even seem to find the original dialogue they stated because THEY DON'T LINK SOURCES!!! HOW DOES A WIKI NOT PROVIDE SOURCES TO THEIR QUOTES!?!?? WHAT!?? I tried checking Inkipedia and even they don't have this dialogue from Callie, so idfk man. All I know is that the dialogue was cut off. Ugh...

From my memory i don't even recall Callie having a new facial animation where her pupils shrink, or it's just so incredibly minor that it's not worth bringing up at all. She also wasn't smiling to hide her panic when her grandfather was kidnapped and insulting Mr. Grizz what the fuck? She was frowning when Cuttlefish dried up and died for a moment!! She was UPSET! and didn't hide it at all! What the hell?! Also facial animations in Splatoon work by the characters swapping between different mouth presets in quick succession, you can see it for yourself when you watch the Idols perform and sing, their mouths don't move smoothly and it makes sense because their language is just gibberish and clipped together audio clips. You can't animate that smoothly unless you spent an INSANE amount of time to animate their mouths incredibly smoothly to match the intentional gibberish and messy vocals. And you gotta do that for EVERY. CUTSCENE. IN. THE. STORY. MODE. That's why the developers just do the cheaper and simpler option to save on time, money and labour.

The "Plenty!" line in response to Shiver's "what is wrong with you?" Is most likely a reference to her quote on quote "airheaded" personality and a subtle nod at her putting the shades back on again and again.

Callie does seem to have mental health issues but it wasn't caused by some "brain warping evil shades oooo", it was due to various things prior to that. Waking up very early in the morning every single day and working non stop, getting harassed by paparazzi, being incredibly lonely and having a strained relationship with someone you used to care about would fuck up anyone's mental health and cause you to overthink and make bad decisions, like join the Octarians and end up wanting to adopt their ideals due to not wanting to go back to your old life and having to deal a fractured relationship with a family member that you think insulted you multiple times on live television, and those feelings and that darkness inside your heart get further amplified by hypnotic shades that cause the restraints in your head to finally break through. But i digress....

Another BIG issue with the fandom wiki is that it's not updated at all, it's extremely outdated, you can check for yourself, find your favorite Idol or character and see if they have the latest info on them, chances are, they don't.

Marina's page is missing Side Order information and new songs.

Shiver's is missing a LOT of gallery and Splatfest information. (No info on Suffer No Fools and "What would you do at world's end?" Splatfest)

Same with Frye. (Frye has the most up to date info on her Splatfest wins and loses yet Shiver doesn't? Huh?)

DJ Octavio's page spreads the incorrect narrative that he uses music to directly control Octarians which has been proven false.

Inkipedia gets it right by saying it's more like propaganda and military marches.

(Although i have my own personal issues with how sometimes Inkpedia talks about Hypno Callie but at least they bothered to include the god damn relationship chart in her page.)

Yeah the Splatoon fandom wiki is just.... bad man. it's awful. It's dogshit. Sometimes i see it as the top result when i search for characters and other Splatoon related content, i don't want casual fans and newcomers to go on that website which has false and outdated information. Please give all the support you can to Inkipedia. It's incredibly rich in information and updates fairly quickly. As a game wiki it's insanely well put together and one of the best wikis out there. It's amazing. If you want to do a wiki scroll and you're mildly interested in Splatoon then it's a great place to get lost for a while and spend some time in.

I just wanted to do a little ranting is all right now. I know that a large majority of people in the community don't like the fandom wiki and Inkipedia is superior by 10000000x but. I just wanted to rant a little. Get my thoughts out there. I'm too attached to a certain cephalopod woman to let poor information about her slide under the radar.

[autumn816]

Those George pictures did something so of course I had to write. Enjoy 1.3k of uncles/dads gewis. I guess a little sequel to this.

——

“Do you really have a baby in your tummy?”

George lets Leo poke him in the stomach a few more times before intercepting his hands and keeping them between his own hands. His baby bump isn’t too big yet. It’s still showing a little but he can easily cover it up with loose clothes. He is only 17 weeks in.

“Yeah. I do.”

“So, I’m getting a cousin?”

“You are.”

“This is your fault.” Leo crosses his arms, looking at Lewis with accusing eyes.

“My fault?” The corners of Lewis’ lips twitch in amusement. “How?”

“I don’t know. You must have done something to Uncle George. You can’t come near him anymore. I won’t let you.”

Oh, Lewis has done something to him, alright.

“Yeah, I did do something to Uncle George. We—”

“Finish the sentence and you and the sofa will be best mates for the next few months.”

Lewis has practically shifted into his home. He wasn’t lying to George when he said that whatever they do, they do it together. That George won’t be alone. He just didn’t expect it to this extent, in a whole literal sense where sometimes George can’t even go to the toilet without as much as telling Lewis where he is going. George gets it. The anxiety of a first child but George can do with some freedom.

It’s also confusing. He doesn’t know where he stands with Lewis. If they are still doing the whole fake dating thing since they didn’t actually go with their fake break-up or are they actually together now. The things they have done in the past few months are messing with George’s brain about what the status of their relationship is.

“I wasn’t actually gonna tell him. Who do you think I am?”

“I can tell him.” Milly lifts her head from George’s shoulder. A grin on her face. “So what happens is—”

“Milly.”

Her grin widens. “It’s an educational lesson.”

“Tell me.”

“No,” George denies. “You need to go take a bath.”

“Tell me first.”

“Bath or we aren’t going out for ice cream.” George gives his nephew an ultimatum. Or threatens with an ultimatum, more like.

“That’s not nice, Uncle G.” Leo huffs. “At least tell me if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“I don’t know yet,” George says. His ultrasound is next week. They’ll find out then.

“I hope it’s a boy,” Milly says.

“No,” Leo argues. “A girl. So I can be the only boy. Three girls and one boy.”

“It’s gonna be a boy.”

Leo doesn’t take the bait. “Fine. As long as we get another playing buddy.”

“You will but right now, go shower,” George repeats.

“I don’t want to.” Leo turns to Lewis, looking at him with puppy eyes. “Can you tell Uncle G that I don’t need to take a bath?”

Lewis’ eyes land on him. George only raises an eyebrow, daring Lewis to say something other than no.

Lewis ruffles Leo’s hair. “Sorry, kiddo. You gotta take your bath.”

“Wow. One look from Uncle George is all it took,” Milly teases. “I expected better from you.”

“What can I say? I’m smart enough to pick my battles.” Lewis jumps in on the joke.

“He can be scary.” Leo joins in as well.

George rolls his eyes. “Alright, give it a rest.”

The three burst out laughing and high-fived each other.

Watching Lewis get along with his niece and nephew fills him with warmth. Yeah, it’s certainly confirmed and undeniable now.

George is in love with Lewis.

—

4 years later.

“There’s a baby in there?”

Hayden pats and rubs his tiny hands on George’s stomach, his eyes widening with curiosity. George is filled with deja vu from the time Leo asked the same question.

“Yeah, there’s a baby in here.”

“How?”

George glances at Lewis but his boyfriend is too busy picking up things scattered in the room or pretending to. He is 90% sure Lewis is listening to them. For as brave and as courageous Lewis is, he always leaves George to explain the hard parts.

“It’s just how it happens.” George tries to be as vague as possible.

“Why?”

“It’s what it is. So you’re going to have either two sisters or two brothers or one sister and one brother.”

George just had his ultrasound yesterday and they found out he is having twins this time.

“Why?”

Hayden is at the stage where “why” is his favourite word. Nothing can be answered without a “why” accompanying it right after.

“That’s just how it is, baby.” George runs his hand through Hayden’s hair. He needs to get him a haircut.

“I’m guessing two girls,” Willow chimes in. She is sitting on the floor with Milly, both of them taking turns to put nail polish on each other. Milly is currently putting Rosy Future on Willow’s fingernails. Yes, Rosy Future. He made the mistake of calling it pink earlier. Never again.

“I say two girls too,” Milly agrees.

“What about you, Sir Uncle?” Willow asks Lewis.

Lewis shrugs his shoulders. George was right. Lewis was listening in. “It could be anything.”

“Oh, come on, Uncle Lew,” Milly groans. “Just pick something.”

George doesn’t really remember when Milly and Leo took up to call Lewis Uncle Lewis or Uncle Lew but somewhere along the four years they had.

“I’ll go with a girl and a boy.”

“What about you, Hay?”

Hayden doesn’t pay attention. He is too busy rubbing his hand over George’s stomach. Too fascinated with the concept of having babies in his dad’s stomach.

George catches Lewis’ eyes from across the room, both of them smiling before looking fondly at their son. Everyone had wondered who Hayden would take more after: George or Lewis. He is a perfect combination of both. Looks and personality wise.

“Kai, Leo, did you get ready?” Lewis shouts so he can be heard in the next room.

“Two minutes,” Kai says. “The episode is almost about to finish.”

Lewis walks to the doorway that connects their room to Hayden’s room, popping his face over the frame. Kaiden and Leo are on their stomachs, the iPad supported by the bed’s headboard. “You said that ten minutes ago. Did you start a new episode?”

“No!” Both Kaiden and Leo exclaim at the same time. Lewis knows a lie when he hears one.

“Benjy is gonna be here in 15 minutes,” Lewis says. “Let’s go. Start getting ready.”

“Dad’s always late,” Leo argues. “It’s fine. We’ll be ready on time.”

George presses his lips in a thin line when he hears it. “Two minutes and I should have the iPad in my hands.”

“Okay.”

The next ten minutes are filled with chaos. Leo and Kaiden rush to get ready while Milly and Willow do a final check to see if they have everything they want.

The whole time Hayden doesn’t move from where he is sitting on George’s thighs, his head laying on the baby bump when he suddenly gasps. “Papa, was I in there?”

George thought the conversation had ended. “You were.”

“How did I come out?”

Yeah, he wants the conversation to end. He doesn’t want to explain the logistics of childbirth to his three year-old.

“Okay.” Lewis walks in the room again at the right time. He scoops Hayden into his arms, causing their son to giggle. “Let’s get you to wear your shoes and your jacket. We don’t want to make Uncle Benjy wait when he’s here. Say bye to Papa.”

Lewis bends down so Hayden can hug and kiss George on the cheek. “Buh-bye, Papa. I love you.”

George kisses Hayden on the cheek back. “I love you, too. Don’t have too much fun without me.”

It’s only for a few hours. Hayden will be back soon enough. But since he has become a dad, even a minute away from his son seems like too much sometimes. It’s fine. Just a few hours, George reminds himself.

“I’ll be right back.” Lewis steals a kiss from George before walking out of the room.

Hayden waves over Lewis’ shoulder. George waves back.

A smile dances on George’s lips. This is the happiest he has ever been.

[crackedpumpkin]

1. GO TO SLEEP I SEE YOU 👁️

2. remember how i said i was gonna request… i forgot and finished my crochet. its a bag now, my brain was too big for the “beanie”

3. THE REQUEST. ITS PINNED IN OUT DMS BUT I’LL COPY PASTE IT HERE AS INSPO AND REFERENCE

y/n knows the guys and casey made a bet that he could get a partner faster then raph (pre mona) and hes (casey) is like ‘fake date me to win a bet, i’ll split the money with you’ but raph made the bet so casey could (FINALLY) get with y/n

and then you added something but i’ll leave that for you to write in, IF IT IS THE PATH YOU CHOOSE TO TRED DOWN.

ok well, thanks, rhonda says goodnight, I SAY GOODNIGHT.

NOW GO TO SLEEP >:(

a/n: Stinky boi for a stinky bitch /jk /love you

also, the way i legit went to bed after seeing No.1 LMAO <333 Also, I've already said this but I'm incredibly proud of you for finishing the pouch :DDDDD it looks gorgeous, sweaty <3

|| ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛ || 2ᴋ12! ᴄᴀꜱᴇʏ ᴊᴏɴᴇꜱ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

[ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“How you doin', sweetheart?” 

You turn with a roll of your eyes, already fed up with the familiar voice of Casey Jones constantly teasing you. If not for the slight glimmer of affection you felt for him, you’d have pummelled him to the ground by now.

The cocky boy leans against your locker with a casual grin, holding his hockey stick in one hand while the other props him up. You raise a brow, leaning against the cold metal of your locker door. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask sarcastically, scanning his usual bruised arms and scattered bandaids that litter his face. He clears his throat, eyes darting around to see if anyone else is close enough to hear.

“So, you know that bet Raph and I made a while back?” 

“Uh huh,” You reply dubiously, already not liking how this conversation is going. Casey nibbles on his bottom lip in thought, conflicting emotions on his face as he decides whether or not to tell you what’s on his mind.

“Spit it out, Jones.” You sigh, crossing your arms.

“Well, I was thinking. It’s kinda reaching the end of the deadline for that bet, and maybe we could, like, fake date or something? Just to get the money from Raph. I’ll split it with you, of course!” He offers.

You’re taken aback, eyes wide as you slam shut your locker door. “What?” The disbelief in your voice is apparent, the forceful shut of your locker door causing the others next to it to rattle. Casey loses his balance, almost falling if not steadying himself in time. 

“Wait, y/n! I’m serious!” He cries out, grabbing your wrist tightly. You flinch, ripping it out of his grasp with a doubtful stare. He begins walking alongside you, trying his best to convince you with honey-coated words.

“Look, it’s a serious amount of money. He bet fifty bucks! Imagine the looks on their faces when we show up together. Raph would freak!” He points out, noticing the ghost of a smile on your lips. He tries harder, knowing that you’d fall for his bait. Hook, line, and sinker.

“Plus, you could get back at them for making fun of that date.”

You pause, your footsteps slowing to a halt. That did sound rather appealing. Besides, what could go wrong? It’s just a fake relationship, and you’d score an easy twenty-five bucks on the side. 

You sigh, shoulders sagging in defeat as you nod with a weary smile. “Fine.”

— — — — — — — — —

“Okay, we gotta make this believable.” 

You eye his hand with thinly veiled reluctance, only to accept it and walk into the lair with your best lovey-dovey act. Casey all but drags you to Raph, and you can barely disguise your eye roll as batting your lashes at your fake boyfriend. 

Could this boy be any more obvious?

Raph lets out a low whistle when he spots your entwined hands. You look straight at him with a confident gaze, raising a brow as you silently challenge him to say anything.

He raises his hands in mock surrender, closing his comic book. 

“When did this- How did this- Don’t you two hate each other??” Donnie gestures to your linked hands with a baffled expression. Maybe he’s just seeing things. He rubs his eyes, blinking rapidly as he processes that what he sees is real.

Okay, so maybe he’s not seeing things.

Even still, this is you and Casey. The both of you that’re constantly at each other’s throats fighting every other day, while the days you don’t are thin ice. 

“I don’t believe you.” Leo crosses his arms with a smug smile, waiting for the both of you to admit that it’s all just a prank.

“I dunno, guys, sweetheart and I here are tight! She asked me out first, too.” Casey tugs you closer with your linked hands, his free hand propped on his hip as if daring them to challenge his clearly believable story. 

“Then prove it. Kiss her, or are you two, not a couple? As in, a couple of liars.” Raph snickers, Mikey chuckling at the pun.

You’re taken aback by Raph’s taunt, eyes darting between Jones and Raph. Your hand starts to grow clammy, and you want to rip it away from Casey’s gentle grip. However, his fingers squeeze your hand in an assured gesture as if he’s saying, It’s Okay.

“Well, get ready to eat your words.”

“Wait-”

Before you can finish your protest, Casey’s lips are on yours. They move against your frozen ones with such tenderness, and you’re too stunned to speak. However, your wide eyes slowly close the longer he kisses you, his fingers threading through your hair and leaving a trail of fire across the skin of your neck. 

Your eyes slowly slide shut, starting to kiss back though every fibre in your being screams otherwise. Your hands are on his shoulders, moving closer and linking them behind his neck. 

Casey's lips are warm, tugged up into that cocky smile of his you hate so desperately. You hate how you knew every trace of his skin, his stupid face seared into your memory. Even now, he’s probably not taking this seriously.

He’s so annoying, you think, automatically frowning slightly as he pulls away. You’re panting softly, watching his glazed eyes struggle to register your pink lips. You bite down on your bottom lip, your gaze flickering from his dazed eyes down to his lips.

It’s almost instinct, the way you tug him back in for another kiss with a renewed ferocity that rivals your hatred for the overconfident, carefree boy. He’s surprised, words dying in his chest as you squeeze your eyes shut. He can’t help but smile at your cute bravery, holding you a little closer than before.

Maybe a little longer, too.

Whoops and cheers snap you out of whatever had possessed you, pulling away with hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. You’re breathless, lips swollen before your cheeks bloom with a bright red that rivals Raph’s mask, realizing that you have essentially just made out with your fake boyfriend in front of a crowd. 

Leo has his hands over his eyes, Donnie shielding his and Mikey’s vision from being permanently scarred. On the other hand, Raph eyes you both with an equally disgusted yet impressed gaze. If he had caught on to Casey’s and your ruse, he certainly didn’t show it.

He pulls out a fifty from the pages of his comic book, handing it to Casey, who accepts with a smirk, your eyes automatically following his plump lips from when you had practically sucked each other’s faces off. 

You’re mortified.

You all but rip your hand out of Casey’s, clearing your throat and rubbing your arms. “I gotta go study at home,” You lie, plastering a fake smile on your face. Raph just shrugs, everyone else groaning and encouraging you to leave. 

Casey watches you go with a hint of forlorn in his eyes and heads to the dojo, only to be stopped by Raph’s hand on his chest. “Go after her, stupid.” The turtle scoffs, pushing Casey toward the direction that you’ve just left.

“Wha-”

“You’re a bad actor. And so is she. The kiss wasn’t fake, dummy. I know that much. Now go, and since I’m so nice, I’ll let you keep the fifty for your first date.” 

Casey glances down at the fifty dollar note in his hands, crumpling it and pressing it against Raph’s plastron before turning and running in the direction you’ve just left in.

It’s a while before you hear the footsteps splashing in the cold tunnels, hesitating. You turn your head to see Casey approaching you, heart doing a funny flip in your chest. You grit your teeth, shaking your head. 

No. This isn’t happening. This definitely isn’t happening.

“It was just a bet, Casey.”

“Yeah, I-I mean, no! Not anymore…” He rubs the back of his neck, barely able to look you in the eyes. 

“That’s all it was,” You deny, stepping back from him. He takes another step forward, the both of you caught in a cat-and-mouse game with him gradually cornering you. Your back hits the wall, breath hitching in your chest when he’s right in front of you. 

You can’t look up; you don’t dare meet his gaze. Your hair falls around you, acting as a shield for you to hide behind. However, coarse fingers cup your chin, lifting it up so that you’re now looking straight at him. 

Your cheeks are dusted with pink, eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

Casey wants to kiss you again. Instead, he takes a deep breath, his voice low as he admits what’s on his mind.

“It’s not a bet anymore.

Not to me.”

[amazingmsme]

for the prompt thing could i ask for 13 with ler!paul and lee!richie?

they gotta have their much needed uncle/nephew bonding time! :D

This was SO MUCH FUN you have no idea!

Richie knew he was what some would call "scatter brained." Random thoughts would pop up at any time, day or night, and more often than not, he said what was on his mind.

"Hey Uncle Paul, how old are you?"

The question took him off guard and he looked at his nephew skeptically. "Uh, why are you asking?"

Richie shrugged, looking up from his phone. "I dunno, I just realized I don't know how old you are."

Paul thought it over and smirked. "Wait- guess."

Richie sat up straighter, rubbing his hands together mischievously. "46," Richie said, then immediately burst into laughter. Paul's eyes flew wide open in shock, and a little bit of betrayal.

"WHAT?" he screamed, making Richie laugh harder.

"It's a guess," he wheezed through his hysterics.

"THAT WAS SO FAR OFF!"

"Why're you yelling at me?" he asked, a smug, shit eating grin on his face.

"THAT WASN'T EVEN CLOSE! Like- okay so normally, when people ask that question they say, like, a little bit younger. "Was that your little bit younger guess?"

"Uh, yeah," Richie quipped. "You're like 49, aren't you?"

"What?" Paul cried out for the millionth time,

"So was I right?" he asked, as if that's what anyone would gleam from that reaction.

"Hell no! I'm not even in my 40's!" he exclaimed. Richie turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Oh. Really?" Then it seemed to "dawn" on him as his jaw dropped in revelation. A small gasp escaped as he spoke, "Oh I knew it, I was just being nice," he nodded solemnly.

"NO I'M NOT IN MY 50's, WHAT DO YOU MEAN "I KNEW IT"?" Paul screeched, making Richie fall against the couch in a fit of laughter. "I'M ONLY 32!"

"Damn, you old as hell," Richie mocked through bouts of laughter.

"Excuse me?" Paul asked, using his "mean adult" voice to get his attention. Richie didn't answer beyond hysterical laughter. "Hey! Don't laugh while I'm trying to talk to you!" he scolded lightly, fighting off a smile.

"What're you gonna do about it, old man?" he goaded. It was rare to see Uncle Paul so worked up, and it was hilarious.

"What I have to," he answered forlornly. Without warning, or perhaps that was Richie's warning, he latched onto his closest knee and squeezed. He shrieked and jerked his leg away, panic setting in as the tickling didn't stop.

“Wait wahahait I’m sohorry!” he pleaded, tucking his legs close to his chest and backed into the corner of the couch.

“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be,” Paul said with a smirk, reaching over to “crack an egg” on his knees, sending him into a fit of laughter. He drummed his feet on the couch, shaking his head back and forth.

“Ihihi’m sohorry nohohow!” he pleaded with a snort. Paul chuckled and decided to show the kid some mercy. He leaned back and ruffled his hair.

“Heh, yeah you are.”