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seaweedbrain404 · 4 years ago

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Wolfstar Au!: Hot and Cold (pt 2 of Parties and Morning Regrets)

@icitlali asked if there was a second part and um- yeah i wrote this, there may be more parts to come

pt 1

pt3

read it on ao3

Remus thought inviting Sirius up was the right thing to do which is the only reason he did. He dared to let himself hope but he didn’t really want to see Sirius. Still, Remus had manners and it was so cold outside that his own fingers were turning purple. Leaving Sirius out in the cold and making him probably walk home seemed too mean, even for Remus. Although, he thought Sirius definitely deserved it.

He followed Sirius up to the flat, Lily looked more than surprised when she saw Sirius come in and gave Remus another look. It was one of those looks that Remus didn’t like getting, the we’re-going-to-talk-about-this-later kind of look. He shrugged it off, too preoccupied with his bloody hip.

“Remus, did you really walk all the way here?” Lily crossed her arms over her chest as Remus closed the door behind them.

“Yeah, so what” He replied through gritted teeth. “I’m going for a shower to wash off the smell of stale alcohol”

“You’re going to be the death of me one day, Remus Lupin” Lily’s voice called to his retreating back. “Sirius, how are you?”

Remus heard vague small talk as he navigated his way to his bedroom. The pain in his hip wasn’t unbearable exactly. It was just bad enough for it to consume all his thoughts. All he needed was a warm bath, some painkillers and to limit his movements for the rest of the day. Easy. Unfortunately, the bath would have to wait until later though seeing as it would probably be rude to soak in the tub while having a guest over.

Showering after a night out was always a pleasant experience. He emerged from the shower just a couple minutes later with damp hair, a stolen pair of Lily’s yoga pants and a clean jumper.

“Ah, here’s the idiot who has no regard for his health” Lily smiled as Remus walked into the kitchen. “Are those mine?”

“Maybe, painkillers please?” He walked across the room and leaned his chin on Lily’s shoulder.

Sirius watched the interaction between the two with some hint of longing in his eyes. Remus wasn’t sure why, maybe it was because he had never been so casually touchy with anyone but now him and Lily were even closer than they were in school.

Lily wrapped an arm around his waist, rubbing circles on his hip. “Sirius, there’s a small pill bottle in the cupboard just there-“ she pointed to the right above her head “-would you mind grabbing it please?”

Sirius blinked for a moment, seemingly frozen at the sight of them. Then, he nodded. “Yeah- yeah, I got it”

He passed Lily the retrieved painkillers without looking at them. Lily hummed gratefully in return, easing Remus, who had hid his face in the crook of her neck, off her. He leaned back against the counter and Lily switched the kettle on.

“I promised Mrs Pettigrew from next door that I’d pick up her groceries today” Lily turned to Remus, glancing at Sirius, “and do a bit of cleaning for her since her grandson is out of town, do you think you’ll manage?”

“Yeah” Remus breathed out. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay”

Lily pursed her lips and looked to Sirius again. “Make sure he stays home, yeah?”

Remus made a noise of protest as Sirius nodded, “I doubt he’ll want to listen to me”

“Lily, I can take care of myself”

“Hardly, you’re in a right state after being without me for a few hours” She scolded, “If you strain yourself any more then you’re going to really fuck up your hip”

“I can’t fuck up something that’s already fucked, can I?”

“I mean it, take it easy and don’t be an idiot”

“Alright, fine”

“And I want to talk to you later”

Remus paled a little at that, despite fully seeing it coming. He made a noncommittal sound and Lily, satisfied with herself, left the room to layer up on clothes and help the nice old lady who lived across the hall.

There was a tense moment when she left. The kettle went off and Remus poured himself a cup, then paused. “Tea?”

“Sure”

Sirius seemed more relaxed now that Lily had gone. It was as if he had been on best behavior when she was there and now he didn’t have to be. Remus couldn’t really blame him, Lily could be very scary sometimes and she was always unreasonably overprotective of Remus. In all fairness, he felt the same way towards her.

So Remus poured two cups of tea and then added milk and sugar accordingly. He had assumed that Sirius took his tea the way he did back in school and he was only a little ashamed he still knew what the other man liked in his tea off the top of his head.

“Am I allowed to ask about the accident?” Sirius picked up his cup and took a sip.

“Why do you want to know?” Remus retorted, taking a painkiller.

“Lily wouldn’t tell me… and I’m…. worried” Sirius looked embarrassed to admit it but he did admit it which was good enough for Remus. It showed some sort of growth, some kind of potential.

“Depends on whether you’re going to pity me or not because frankly, I don’t care much for it”

“Jesus, you don’t have to be so snappy”

Remus scowled at him, not saying another word. He didn’t care about being snappy in that particular moment. His hip hurt like hell, he could feel his leg slowly going as well and whenever he told people anything about the accident they all treated him like a fragile porcelain doll.

Sirius cleared his throat before speaking again. “I won’t pity you, if you don’t want me to”

“What do you want to know?” Remus asked, disregarding what Sirius had said.

“What happened?”

“I worked at this publishing place, had a late night so I took a cab home” Remus began, even thinking about that night made his heart race and his eyes sting. “Someone was driving under the influence and hit us- the cab, I mean.. and it was really bad but they put these screws and plates all in my side, shoulder down to my shin”

Remus paused a moment, wiping his eyes on the back of his palm. Sirius made to touch him but he jerked away, a little too fast and hissed in pain. Sirius retreated his hand, looking crestfallen.

“Anyway, I had to quit the job cause it was too far to walk and I refused to get in any type of car or bus or really any type vehicle since then” Remus rushed the end of the story, his hands were shaking and his throat felt tight.

Sirius took a step forward and this time Remus allowed him to. He carefully opened his arms and slowly wrapped them around Remus, giving him more than enough time to move if he didn’t want this.

Remus, however, was just exhausted. He collapsed right into Sirius’ arms which tightened around him. The bad thing was, he was still shaking, his lungs refused to take in air and oh, there was the whole thing about just falling into his ex-boyfriend’s arms. Good thing was, he felt safe.

Then he started crying, his own arms wrapping around Sirius’ waist while his arms were around Remus’ back. He was pretty sure the only reason he still remained standing was Sirius’ strength forged by years of playing rugby. Remus wanted to kick himself, everything about this situation was just so pathetic and he hated it. He hated himself for it.

Sirius, meanwhile, said nothing and just rubbed circles on the taller man’s back. “I’m sorry, I’ve been horrible to you and now you’re literally comforting me, maybe I am the asshole”

“Nah, I kind of deserved it”

“Yeah you did”

“Hey! you’re not supposed to say that”

“But it’s the truth”

“Shut up”

Remus let himself laugh quietly. He was mortified by this display of vulnerability and dearly wished the ground would open and swallow him whole. Then he made a feeble attempt at pushing Sirius away, nearly toppling over himself. He had to grip the counter behind him to stop himself from hitting the floor. Sirius made to catch him but Remus swatted his hand away.

“I think you should go”

“But I promised Li-“

“I’m tired and she’ll be back soon”

Lie. Remus knew that Lily would be gone for at least two more hours, maybe more if Mrs Pettigrew offered biscuits.

“Then I’ll just stay till she comes back, she really worries about you” Sirius shrugged like it was final and Remus didn’t want to talk about it so he slowly hobbled to the living room.

“Do you-“

“No”

Sirius started asking but Remus snapped at him before he could finish his question.

“Sorry” Sirius mumbled, hands up in surrender. Remus could feel eyes on his back as he managed to get to the couch. He switched on the telly, laying on the side of his body that hurt the least.

Remus figured that if Sirius didn’t leave, then maybe he could ignore him to the point of leaving. Unfortunately it didn’t work because this was Sirius so instead of sitting on the chair near the couch or even on the floor, he stood at Remus’ head. Hands were gesturing for Remus to sit up but he ignored them.

“Remus, squish over a minute”

With a groan, he turned onto his back and sat up. Sirius slid into the open space and Remus turned so that his feet were at Sirius’ lap instead of his head. He wasn’t sure how his body would react if Sirius started gently twirling strands of his hair and admiring them as if they were made of gold.

Remus closed his eyes, feeling fingers tracing shapes on his exposed ankles.

Suddenly Sirius spoke. “You and Lily have gotten really close”

His eyes shot open, a little startled by the tone. He wasn’t sure how long he was out but he definitely slept at least twenty minutes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was groggy with sleep, the side of his mouth damp from drool

“It’s weird, I’ve never seen you so much as hug anyone”

Remus wiped the side of his mouth. “People are allowed to change and Lily is my best friend”

“It’s just- you’ve changed so much and I’m struggling to keep up” Sirius’ tone was strange, the most un-Sirius thing Remus had ever experienced him do since they met.

Remus’ eyebrows knit together, a frown now playing on his face. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, y’know… besides, I don’t have to change according to your terms”

“I never said that” Sirius spat.

Remus sat up in response, leaning back on his elbows. “Then why are you constantly bitching about how much I’ve changed?”

“Because you have! It’s like you’re this whole new person and I don’t even know you”

“I haven’t spoken to you since we were 17, that was 6 years ago and you expect me not to change?” Remus ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I went to college, I got in a horrendous car accident Sirius, do you really expect me to be the same person I was when we were teenagers?”

“No- it’s just, I don’t like change”

“Fucking hell Sirius, the world doesn’t care and guess what? that’s constantly changing too”

“Yeah but not as drastically as you! You work in a bakery for Christ’s sake when I know you always wanted to be a writer”

“And I know you vowed to never work for your parents and here you are, doing daddy’s dirty work no doubt”

“Remus”

“What”

“You were never this cruel”

“No, I suppose not”

The two sat in silence, and it took all of Remus’ willpower not to kiss him.

“Can we just be friends or something” Sirius looked sincere enough, good natured enough for Remus to want it.

“Something? Something like wh-“

But Remus never got to finish his sentence because suddenly Sirius’ knees were straddling his hips and they were kissing.

What the fuck!

Remus wanted to scream, he was tired and annoyed and now he didn’t know what to feel. He pushed Sirius away for a second time that day, both their breaths coming in uneven.

“No” Remus breathed out, shutting his eyes tightly.

“No?”

“Yes, no… I can’t… what were you thinking?”

Sirius looked both hurt and surprised but Remus wasn’t concerned about that, he was more confused than anything and also there was the almost unbearable pain in his hip.

“I- well you were being cruel and this is the only way I knew how to shut you up effectively”

Now it was Remus’ turn to look hurt, he pushed Sirius again with more force than before. He brought his head back down and refused to say another word.

“Remus”

Nothing.

“Remus”

He shut his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep again.

“I’m sorry”

“Remus, I’m really sorry”

“I know I shouldn’t have said that”

“I did want to kiss you, I also wanted you to stop being mean”

“Come on Moony”

Remus’ eyes shot open at the childhood nickname. “Leave me alone Sirius, I’m tired and sore”

“Are you cross?”

“With you?”

Sirius hummed in response.

“Yeah but mainly cause I’m tired”

“Oh, I’m sorry”

“Just stop talking”

Sirius did just that. Remus felt bad though, he very carefully and hesitantly moved again so that his head was on Sirius’ lap. “I’m sorry for being a dick” he whispered, eyes closing again.

“I’m sorry for not thinking before I speak” came Sirius’ soft reply.

Remus felt Sirius’ fingers move through his hair tentatively as if he was uncertain whether or not this was allowed. “No, I’m being a moody git, all hot and cold on you”

“I couldn’t blame you for it”

“Well you should”

Sirius didn’t reply and Remus remained on the side that didn’t hurt him, facing away from Sirius and towards the telly.

#marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #the mauraders #modern marauders #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar angst #wolfstar fic #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #lily evans #okay but i love writing lily and remus’ friendship so much #they remind me of me and my best friend

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ot3tropetober · 4 years ago

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Eliot stared at the gleaming new machine in his kitchen.

“What,” he said slowly, “is that.”

Hardison slouched against the kitchen island, cradling a cup of coffee in his hands. “What’s what, handsome?”

Eliot jerked his head at the thing on the counter. “That.”

“Oh, that?” Hardison said, elaborately casual. “That’s a top of the line Necromincer 5000. Not only does it mince, but it chops. It shreds. It juliennes. It chiffonades. It purees. I don’t know what half of that means, but it’s the hottest new addition to any herbalist’s arsenal.”

“What are you, writing ads for it?” Eliot grumbled. “What’s it doing in my kitchen?”

“I got you a lil’ gift,” Hardison said. “To show my appreciation for everything you’ve been giving me, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows.

"This is technology,” Eliot said, ignoring Hardison’s suggestive expressions. “I don’t use technology in my magic, man.”

“Sure you do,” Hardison said. “Mortars and pestles don’t grow on trees. Neither does that big fancy gas stove. It’s all technology." He set down the coffee cup just so he could make dramatic air quotes around the word "technology”. If he hadn’t been shirtless with those low-slung sweatpants that threatened to slide right off his hips, Eliot probably would have rolled his eyes. As it was, he was a little distracted. Hardison’s sweatpants won a lot of their arguments, if he was honest, especially since Hardison had been spending more and more weekends at Eliot’s place.

“Eliot. Calling Eliot. Earth to Eliot." Hardison poked at him. Eliot startled out of his reverie about Hardison’s abs and all the rest of Hardison and the amount of time they’d been spending together in Eliot’s big sage-scented bed.

"Will you put a damn shirt on so we can finish this argument?” Eliot said.

Hardison looked around. He picked up one of Eliot’s flannels from the back of one of the high chairs tucked under the island and shrugged it on without bothering to button it. It didn’t help hide his abs at all, and it was way too snug across the shoulders, but it was something. Eliot regained enough brain function to refocus on why Hardison was wrong.

“What I use isn’t technology,” Eliot said. “It’s human powered. Well, the gas stove is fire-powered, I guess, but it doesn’t need electricity. I can light it with a match if I have to.”

“Oh, sure,” Hardison said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “Because they just went out and harvested all the pipes for it from the gas-stove fields. Dug up the burner covers, knocked the dirt off, and shipped them straight to you. It’s technology, Eliot. We made it to work for us.”

“It’s not new technology,” Eliot insisted. “I don’t just press a button and wham bam chiffonade." He glared at the Necromincer. "I also don’t believe that damn gadget can chiffonade.”

Hardison tipped his head. “Fine. Try to do something nice to make your life easier, give you a little more free time to spend with me, but I see how it is." He shifted and picked up his coffee cup again, taking a step toward the living room. Eliot caught him around the waist and Hardison smiled down at him, more than a little smug.

"Thank you,” Eliot said,settling his hips comfortably against Hardison’s. “I’m never gonna use it.”

“Maybe not for magic,” Hardison said, “but when it comes to dinner, that might be a different story.”

Eliot looked back at the big machine as Hardison wrapped one arm around Eliot’s shoulders, tugging gently at Eliot’s hair. “It might be useful for dinner."

"Hmm, changing your tune,” Hardison said, smiling.

“Yeah, well,” Eliot said. “Sometimes you chop all day, you don’t want to chop all night.”

“I do love to watch you though,” Hardison said. “My man and his big old knives. All those muscles in your back, mmm.”

“I got plenty of chopping to do today,” Eliot said. “Or I will after I go out and forage what I need.”

“You want help?” Hardison asked.

“Hell no,” Eliot said. “Not after you mixed up foxgloves and violets.”

“They were purple,” Hardison protested. “You said they were purple. I got the purple ones.”

Eliot shook his head. “I’m not taking any chances. You’d probably pick up the wrong mushroom or something and then I’m minus one boyfriend.”

“Oh, boyfriend, huh?” Hardison teased.

“Yeah, well,” Eliot said, pretending to scowl, “if you’re gonna start trying to clutter up my beautiful kitchen with your weird appliances, I think it’s kind of official."

"You’d bring me back,” Hardison said with certainty. “Even if you had to use the Necromincer.”

“I like your faith in me,” Eliot said, “but I’d also just rather avoid any kind of near-death experience." He leaned forward very deliberately and ran his hands over Hardison’s abs. "I’ve got better things to do with my time than spend it saving your ass, you know?”

“I think I get it,” Hardison said. He leaned down to give Eliot a lingering kiss. “I’m gonna go get my magic done for the day so you don’t have to see me shaping any nasty electricity or non-ancient technology into spells to save lives and make people’s days run smoother. Wouldn’t want you to get upset by any kind of magic that didn’t start out growing in the earth.”

“Great,” Eliot told him. “I’m gonna go out and participate in centuries of tradition by harvesting the blessings and, yes, some of the curses of nature and transforming them into medicine and enchantments.”

“Seems to me like you’ve got plenty of home-grown enchantments working,” Hardison said, setting down his coffee again so he could rub Eliot’s back. “If you know what I mean.”

“I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down,” Eliot said. “Guess the sooner we both get done, the sooner we can test that theory.”

“Hey,” Hardison said as Eliot moved away. “Make sure you come back just a little sweaty, okay?”

“Just for you, I’ll make sure to get a little sweaty,” Eliot promised. He got his picking bag off its hook on the wall and slung it over his shoulder. Hardison patted his ass as Eliot walked past him again on the way to the fridge. He opened the door, blocking Hardison’s view with his body, and rummaged around in the vegetable drawer under the celery, coming up with a packet wrapped in waxed cloth.

“Is that the sandwich?” Hardison asked. “Damn, I’ll be honest with you, E. I was gonna eat that sandwich.”

“That’s why I made two." Eliot smiled. "Yours is the one on top of the eggs." He packed it carefully in his bag and filled his water bottle at the sink, dropping in a few mint leaves from the plant on the windowsill. He kissed Hardison as he left and hummed a little tune to himself. The air was fresh and crisp, and he lived in a world full of magic. When he came home, Hardison would be curled up in an armchair, and in a way, that was the best magic of all. He wasn’t going to tell Hardison that, though. There were only so many smug grins a man could bear. Still and all, it was a nice life.

#au: magic #author: aimlessglee #submission

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merakiaes · 5 years ago

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Jealous Of The Star Spangled Man - Jack Thompson

Pairing: Jack Thompson x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: I haven’t seen the show in a while so sorry if I got any details wrong, I’ll be rewatching it soon so if I’ve made any mistakes I’ll go back and change them then. Not proofread so I apologize in advance if there’s any errors in spelling or grammar! Please leave some love and let me know what you think xx

Wordcount: 2374

Summary: When Steve returns to Peggy, the two of you immediately hit it off. Peggy couldn’t care less, but others might get a bit threatened by the Star-Spangled Man With a Plan.

It had been a relatively calm week at the phone company, now that Whitney Frost and the Zero Matter had been dealt with and the dangers had been eliminated.

It had been very stressful for you, seeing as you hadn’t been as hands-on in the case as Peggy, Jack and Daniel had, and therefore hadn’t been there to keep an eye on Jack when they were in Los Angeles.

During their time there, you had been stuck back in New York City in the office with the rest of your peers, anxiously awaiting your boyfriend’s return.

It had been stressful enough to not have any idea of what was going on, so when he didn’t come home the night he had told you he would and you a few hours got a call during which you learned that he had been shot in his hotel room and was in the hospital, you hadn’t even been able to breathe.

The attempt on his life was a new problem in itself that you would eventually have to deal with, but for the time being, just having him back with you in New York, safe and on his way to recovery, was enough to give you some peace of mind.

He had been in the hospital for two entire weeks after his near-death experience. An entire week went by before he woke up and when he did wake up, he was in recovery for another seven days before he was released and allowed to return to work.

Much to his dismay, however, he hadn’t been allowed to do any groundwork since getting back, with his arm being in a sling as it would until the gunshot wound was all healed up.

He was stuck in the office filling out paperwork with the rest of you. He did get to participate in the investigation of finding his shooter, though, now being the new Chief of your unit and having some say on the matter.

It was, much to your relief, enough to satisfy him for the time being, even if it was from behind a desk and not from any actual investigative work.

You were glad, because if he hadn’t been satisfied, you knew he would’ve gone out and gotten himself into even more trouble and your poor heart just couldn’t handle any more if it.

And even though he would never admit it out loud, no matter how much he loved you, he was happy to finally be able to spend more time with you after the two of you having grown so distant during the last months’ events.

That was, until Captain American suddenly waltzed back into Peggy’s life like a ghost from the past, suddenly back from the dead and taking aaall of Jack’s spotlight; even when it came to you.

You hadn’t personally partaken in the war like Peggy had so you never got to meet Steve back then, but she had told you everything there was to know about her great love and when you met in person the first time, you hit it off immediately.

Not only had you both been born and raised in Brooklyn, but you also had in common the fact that you had both suffered through a majority of your lives being bullied and looked down on up until the point where you had changed for the “better” appearance-wise.

You got along like two peas in a pod, always chatting away whenever he would come to visit Peggy at work, and it was beginning to become unbearable for Jack to have to watch.

He gave off the impression that he was very secure in himself and he was, but the fear still always remained that you would leave him for someone else, and who better to leave him for than Captain America?

The fact that he was obviously head over heels in love with Peggy didn’t seem to matter to him. All he could see was another man talking to you, making you laugh.

Peggy wasn’t even batting an eye at it, casually flipping through the files sprawled out on his desk in his office while he watched you and Steve interact outside by your desk.

The office was mainly dark at this point, everyone but him and Peggy having gone home for the evening and you and Steve waiting for your respective significant others to finish up their work.

He could see you throwing your head back with laughter through the blinded window, and then watched with a sour scowl as you reached a hand up to touch Steve’s bicep while he went on about whatever it was you were talking about.

It was a small friendly gesture, but the way Jack saw it, it was a threat nonetheless.

“You’re not bothered at all by this?” He asked before he could stop himself, raising his hand to part the blinds and leaning closer to the window with squinted eyes to get a better look.

Peggy barely acknowledged him, merely throwing you and Steve a glance before turning her attention to him, raising an eyebrow and straightening up. “Should I be?”

Jack kept his eyes on you for another moment, before finally letting go of the blinds and turning away from the window to look at his female co-worker.

“Well, yeah. I mean, look at them.” He said, throwing his good arm out at the window.

Peggy simply sighed, slapping the folder in her hand down on his desk as she realized he wouldn’t be letting it go.

“They’re friends, Jack.” She told him with a pointed glare. “People can be friends with the opposite gender without there being something going on.”

“You and Steve were just friends too, once. That’s how every couple starts out.” He quickly pointed out, eyebrows raising and forehead crinkling in the process.

The corners of her lips tugged upward, her brown curls bouncing as she shook her head lightly. “No, we were never just friends.” She denied softly. “And neither were you and (Y/N), so quit your whining.”

She turned her body fully towards him, leaning on the side of his desk and shaking her head once more, her bright red lips now pulled into a straight line and her brown eyes sternly looking into his.

“What’s the point of being in a relationship if there’s no trust?” She asked him, and his face instantly darkened.

“I trust her.” He said, pointing a finger at the window. “It’s him I don’t trust.”

Peggy scoffed, pushing herself off the desk and crossing her arms over her chest, taking a step closer to him. “Jack, you cannot be serious. Do you hear yourself right now?” She asked. “You’re being very insecure and quite frankly extremely ridiculous.”

“I’m not insecure, I-” He cut himself short, breathing out deeply and bringing his hand up to his face, pulling it over his mouth and chin and moving around in his spot angrily.

He looked around the room, everywhere but at her, taking a few deep breaths before turning his attention back to her. “You know what, this conversation is over.” He declared, plastering on a sarcastic smile. “Are we all done here?”

Peggy glared for another moment, before sighing, uncrossing her arms and turning her back to him. “Yes, time to go home.”

Jack wasted no time in moving over to the chair at his desk to take his coat that was hanging around the backrest, hanging it over his arm and grabbing his brown leather bag.

“Clean this mess up, will you?” He asked, or more like ordered, motioning for the mess of files sprawled over his desk.

In any other case, Peggy was sure to have fought him on the matter, but she had no energy for an argument this late into the evening and she was in no position to turn down helping a cripple, anyhow, even though Jack was just being the usual ass and not actually requiring assistance because of the fact that he currently only had one functioning arm.

She started pushing the papers back into the folders without protest and without as much as a word, Jack more or less ripped the door to his office open, the blinds hitting against the glass in the process and successfully grabbing yours and Steve’s attention.

You smiled widely at the sight of your boyfriend and Steve did too, ever the gentleman with no hate for anyone.

The two of you abandoned your conversation about this ice cream parlor in Brooklyn that you had both gone to when growing up, and how weird it was that you hadn’t met each other then, both of you slowly starting to walk to meet him halfway.

“Hey, baby.” You greeted him and wasted no time in grabbing the front of his shirt once you reached him, standing up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips.

It was short and sweet, or at least you thought so, completely oblivious to the way Jack was keeping his eyes on Steve the entire time, who in turn turned his head away from you out of respect to give you some privacy.

When you came back down to your feet and dropped your hands from his chest, the smile on your lips was even wider, and Steve slowly turned his head back to you, giving your boyfriend a polite smile and a nod of his head.

“All done for the day?” He asked, as always his well-mannered self.

But Jack wasn’t impressed, his face completely wiped free of emotion and his eyes hard. “Uh-huh.” He replied coldly and at that, your smile faltered as you finally began picking up on his offish mood.

Before you got the chance to question him about it, however, Peggy appeared in the doorway of his office.

“Steve, can you get in here for a moment, please?” She asked, and Steve instantly nodded, wasting no time in heading her way.

Peggy didn’t actually want anything from him. She just wanted to give you a chance to rid Jack of his attitude, even if you had yet to realize the kind of mood he was in.

Once the door closed behind them, you looked back up at Jack to see that he was now looking toward the closed office, so you reached out and took his good hand in yours, searching out his gaze.

When his head turned back to you and his eyes met yours, you smiled, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“I was thinking that maybe we could go out for dinner tonight, have a little date night. It’s been so long.” You spoke softly, and his eyebrow instantly shot up.

“Will Steve be joining us?” He asked and you raised an eyebrow.

“What?” You laughed. “Why would Steve come along to our date night?”

Jack shrugged his shoulders, the corners of his lips turning down. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him since he came back, is all.”

You were at loss for words for a moment, trying to figure out what he was insinuating. Luckily, you were a bright woman, and realization hit you fairly quickly, your confusion being replaced with amusement.

“Jack Thompson…” You drawled, crossing your arms over your chest and smirking smugly. “Are you jealous, of The Star-Spangled Man with a Plan?”

Jack instantly turned sour, but he made no attempt to hide the obvious. “Maybe.” He admitted, his green eyes moving to the side before flickering back to you. “But only because you’re important to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“I would never leave you for anyone else, least of all Steve.” You wasted no time in assuring him, dropping the smug act. “He’s with Peggy and I’m with you, exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

You smiled softly, taking a step closer to him. “Come here…” You mumbled, reaching out for the jacket still hanging over his lower arm.

He let you take it and helped you along as you put it over his shoulders, putting his arm into the sleeve and watching you closely as you straightened it out over his shoulder on the side of his sling.

He watched as you moved your hands to straighten the collar of his coat, and then along to his chest to smooth out the wrinkles on his white shirt.

Slowly, he reached his hands up to grab a hold of your wrist, causing you to halt your movements and look up at him.

He took a small step closer to you, dropping your wrist and grabbing you by your waist to gently pull you even closer.

“I love you.” He mumbled, reaching his hand up to take your chin in-between his fingers.

Your lips immediately pulled into a wide smile, your hand moving to take his. “I love you too…”

The two of you began leaning in simultaneously, closing the distance and pressing your lips together in another, longer kiss.

You smiled against his lips the entire time, your entire body growing warm with tingles at the feeling of his fingertips gingerly tracing over your waist, right where your skirt met your blouse.

After a good minute of kissing, you finally pulled apart for air and with the smile now pulling at Jack’s lips, it would appear his attitude had gone away.

“Now…” He breathed, pressing his palm flat against your hip and raising an eyebrow. “Where does the special lady want to go for dinner?”

You bit down on your lip to hold back the smile. “I could really go for some Italian.” You shrugged and he chuckled, shaking his head, taking a step back and pointing his finger at you.

“You’re extremely expensive to feed, you know that?” He asked, and you smiled innocently. “But how can I say no to my best girl, and that pretty smile of yours?”

Your smile only widened at his words, even more so when he bent down to peck your lips, his head nodding when you came back apart.

“Italian it is.” He agreed, and wasted no time in taking you under his arm, leading you out of the office, both of you completely oblivious to the two pairs of eyes watching you from behind the window, smiling to themselves.

Tagged: @corishirogane3 @trenchcoatedwings @microwaved-timmies

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#jack thompson #jack thompson x reader #jack thompson imagine #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #agent carter #peggy carter #captain america #daniel sousa

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

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your “luke and alaric are married af” series made me transcend. they absolutely ARE. when i watched the show i really expected them to be in a canon relationship bc. it just seemed obvious. (me and magnus: you mean you’re NOT married??????) i’m surprised it’s such a small ship tbh. there is so much potential... i would love to hear more from u!!!!! what ideas do u have? first dates? how does maia react (i bet she’s like... duh? you’re my dads)? the story of luke’s epiphany omg???

for real!!! the chemistry and the love between them was so real and palpable and like hello? the way they always were on each other's corner? the Partners to Lovers dynamic?? the obvious mutual respect they had even though they were always butting heads? the way they always seemed to be growing together and not just fighting??? again the CHEMISTRY?? the fun little snippets we had like "it's never too early for teriyaki"?? literally we had so much to build an amazing romance and alaric is such a minor character his actor isn't even an actor he's a stunt double

like they had what 5 scenes and they all had such a great setup for romance or even for them to have been married the whole time??? they certainly had old married couple dynamics. fuck jocelyn i am speaking her out of existence. also i mean open relationships but why would luke even have a relationship with jocelyn when he had an actually good relationship to compare it to?

also the potential of their getting together being tied up to some personal growth from luke as an alpha and a downworlder in general like... most of their conflicts was because a part of luke still felt indebted to shadowhunters and their heritage and he kept putting the wolves last, and it would have been so good to see luke slowly realizing that he doesn't owe them shit and he gets to prioritize his own people and the people who are there for him, and him eventually choosing alaric over jocelyn being tied to choosing himself as he is now to who he used to be as a (terrible) shadowhunter...

not that it's alaric's job to fix luke obviously, but i don't think it would be "fixing" and this definitely wouldn't be a "teaching luke out of racism" story because when luke helped alaric as he became a werewolf he was already somewhat settled into werewolf life. i just think that a part of luke feels like he still owes loyalty to the people who hated him and it could have been a nice parallel to see him letting this go and getting with alaric. especially because alaric never coddled him, so, you know. and i think luke needed that little push in that sense. and alaric meanwhile would also be growing more confident into his role in the pack and in their job and getting the support he obviously still needed, and like, it could have been so good? definitely rocky before they sorted it out, but good. and of course sh had to waste the opportunity without even giving it thought because when don't they

anyway!!! as for your actual questions! first date is honestly so hard for me because i feel like their first date would feel like their billionth date. again i say, THEY ARE MARRIED whether they know it or not. so i can see their first official date going one of two ways: it's very lowkey, nothing they haven't done a thousand times before (like going to a small little family restaurant that they like, eating together, talking, maybe sharing a milkshake and they feel stupid but they're giggling and can't stop smiling and it makes them so happy that who cares) and it's absolutely PERFECT; OR they try to go all out and make it special and ~woo~ each other and it feels a little weird at first but it's still good and they get to enjoy the romantic ambience, hold hands over the table, and they're both a little shy because it feels like such a leap but it feels right

im gonna elaborate a little bit on both because i really love both??? so like they go to this little joint that is not the jade wolf or anything too close because they want to have this moment for tHEMSELVES, away from wherever anyone else from work or the shadow world might see them and from where they would think about it and associate with it. i am thinking... ohh some nice little place near where alaric's grown up? i'm headcanoning him as hondureño since we got no specifics other than his last name being rodriguez and i'm feeling like making him central american

and ALSO a great typical honduran dish is marinated meat and since luke is a beef jerky fan he would be all over that shit. i headcanon that luke knows alaric's family to some extent (i made a very quick reference to that in the second fic of the series) and i really love to think that luke has been to at least a few carneadas with alaric and his family?? which is aaaaaa another whole thing to talk about i might get back to it in a second but the DATE

also i like to think that luke would fall in love with rice and beans/casamiento because that is my rights. so like them going to the restaurant and having some meat (it's not really a carneada outside of the context of a carneada and for a date but like.. maybe pinchos or ye regular steak with urucum? i've had that in central brazil a few times and god i love it to death. or maybe chimol which sounds like something luke would like) with casamiento, tajadas, u know, the regular stuff? and it's lowey intimate because they are sharing the dish and it's something from alaric's culture you know??? god damn it i'm still talking about food. ONTO THE DATE

the point is that it's very casual and intimate but also uplifting and fun because this is a honduran restaurant we are talking about, so there's probably music, noise, alaric knows the family that runs it and possibly luke does too but they still have their space. maybe they get to dance a little bit because please god i am begging you, and luke has never had too many opportunities to dance before but it turns out he is a natural even if a little self conscious. i am picturing them dancing salsa which i kNOW is not an honduran dance but if the restaurant just leaves a Latin Music™ radio on as they usually do in latino restaurants in the US it's not that unlikely that it would play. and with alaric not being actually cuban he wouldn't humiliate luke too much. lmao

anyway most of the time they are just talking and teasing each other and every time luke takes a bite of the food he moans a little bit because he's a sucker for marinated meat and alaric wasn't even the one to cook it but goddamn if he doesn't feel proud of himself. and they share a drink (i guess the milkshake idea doesn't fit as well here but whatever they will get two straws for their iced tea or Tropical if they're feeling silly or agua de ensalada if they're feeling traditional. the point is that the lack of milkshake won't stop them from doing their dumb sappy thing) and are kind of laughing the whole time because it feels so teenage-y but to be fair luke DID just find out he was bisexual and figuring out your sexuality always brings in second puberty in terms of experiences. and alaric is not going to complain because it feels so sweet and right

and then the dancing which is fun and intimate and a little challenging for luke even if they aren't Full On Dancing Salsa, just a few moves here and there together but they get to be close and intimate and maybe alaric does some impromptu spinning and it makes them both laugh and maybe rub their noses together while they laugh and they are being so silly but they don't care

and basically they go home after hours, as you do, holding hands and a little drunk on each other, bumping shoulders on the way, alaric resting his head on luke's shoulder and luke on top of alaric's? and it makes walking a little awkward but god They Don't Care. and it just feels so perfect, like home and family and everything they are to each other :))))

really wanna add an "and then they fuck like rabbits" at the end but anyway i'll try not to ruin it

second date option! full out fanciness. they are already partners, they have seen each other in every possible situation, they know their worse, they know their married ways, but they want to have a ROMANTIC first date! lay thick their new relationship status. woo each other! show each other what amazing caring boyfriends/husbands they are. be adults!

they pick some fancy restaurant that luke may or may not have gotten suggested to him by magnus when he called him in a bit of panic because he is not very well versed in fancy restaurants and the like. maybe magnus even takes that extra step and portals them somewhere extra romantic like venice or whatever but i think they'd want to be independent in terms of going there and back so maybe not. anyway the point is, fancy restaurant! suits! they are a bit more nervous than they usually would because they haven't been in a place like this in waaayyy too long and they've never done anything remotely similar to that together before so it feels like a new territory and they kiinda want to prove something even though that's stupid because they've already chosen each other

but it goes well???? not as natural as the first date idea but that might just be me and thinking that casualness is the most romantic thing, and either way, it still feels so right and good. they get to sip wine, hold hands over the table, say something sweet to each other over entrees, share dessert, bicker over who gets to pay. again the marriedness of it all absolutely slips through but there is that new element that they are getting to explore and that feels so nice

and it's never stilted and forced, even if they are a little nervous, they are still themselves and it goes down smoothly and they are happy that it worked so well because there is always that fear in a best friends to lovers kinda situation that things will just feel weird, especially when you're both adults and have so much history. but it doesn't, it feels romantic and new and exciting and as they leave they tease each other a little bit like "after you, gentleman" and laugh together 🥺🥺🥺

and they have their first kiss as they leave and they both linger a little bit as they just stand under the stars and keep their eyes closed and their hands linked together and i need a moment oh my god

this got too long so i'm separating the answers for the different questions: maia's reaction (link), luke's epiphany (link)

#sh #shadowhunters #luke garroway #alaric rodriguez #aluke #ask #anonymous #long post #kinda #i know there are more questions im just separating them because the post feels too long already

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pcttrailsidereader · 4 years ago

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The Scariest Encounters Women Have on the Trail are with Men

One of the more chilling episodes in Wild was when Cheryl Strayed encountered two hunters in Central Oregon, one of whom made her rightfully uncomfortable . . . “She’s got a really nice figure, don’t she?” the sandy-haired man said. “Healthy, with some soft curves. Just the kind I like.” And it got worse. In the end, she was able to extricate herself but not without considerable anxiety.

Natasha Carver in “Walking Down a Dream” from The Pacific Crest Trailside Reader: California shares a story of camping near a road. A car stops late at night. Natasha and her hiking partner feel very exposed and very vulnerable. Indeed, the scariest encounters women have on the trail are with men.

This article, taken from the Daily Beast, focuses on the AT . . . but, in general, the issues are . . . sadly . . . the same.

By Melanie Hamlett, the Daily Beast

As a 30-year-old nurse who works with terminally ill patients, Julia (who prefers to remain anonymous) asked herself one day what she would be proud of doing if she too were given a diagnosis of only six months to live. Shortly after, she left Pittsburgh to start hiking the 2,190-mile Appalachian Trail—a highly coveted peacock feather in the cap of outdoor adventurers. But this epic odyssey from Georgia to Maine proved to be far more challenging for Julia and over a dozen women interviewed for this piece because of one factor.

Their being female.

It’s no surprise women experience annoyances like casual or even outright sexism in the outdoor adventure world, but on the Appalachian Trail some are facing more traumatizing problems like stalking, sexual harassment, and even assault. Last May, the unthinkable happened—a brutal murder.

People had been warning local officials for six weeks about James Jordan, a violent “fight angel” who is currently being tried for murder in Virginia. In April numerous hikers reported disturbing behavior, including being verbally assaulted by Jordan and even threatened with a machete. He was later arrested on multiple charges, including possession of weed, and was ordered to stay off the trail. In May he returned anyway and allegedly threatened to pour gasoline on four campers and burn them alive in their tents.

He later chased two of them down the trail before finally giving up. When he returned, he allegedly stabbed Richard S. Sanchez Jr. to death, then chased Sanchez’s female hiking partner down the trail and stabbed her. She only survived because she played dead, then ran down the trail for help once he left. Jordan was found and taken into custody early the next morning. This tragedy became a traumatizing reminder that even in a majestic wilderness sanctuary like the Appalachian Trail, America is a violent, scary country, especially for women.

As a frequent solo traveler and former professional wilderness guide, I’m a huge advocate of women exploring the world, especially alone. It’s empowering as hell. I’ve never let fear (or too many episodes of Law and Order SVU) deter me from solo adventures. The point of telling the following stories isn’t to scare anyone off the trail but rather to educate women on how to protect themselves and to ask should-be male allies to stop turning a blind eye. Until the outdoor industry, which prides itself on being quite woke-ish, is ready for its own #MeToo reckoning, women won’t feel safe.

“Women have no way of knowing who will be the next James Jordan versus who’s just an awkward dude or entitled asshole.”

The Appalachian Trail is a microcosm of American culture but with far higher stakes. Statistically, women are way safer on the trail than on college campuses or in even their own homes. There’s only one rape reported (....reported) every few years on the trail and the chance of getting murdered there is 1,000 times less than in America as a whole. And yet, the absence of deadbolts to lock oneself behind or of multiple witnesses around to deter violent men from attacking us means the occasional trail creeper can be a million times scarier and more dangerous. The only thing protecting a woman alone in a tent from that sketchy stranger she previously encountered on the trail or the seemingly cool one she’s been hiking with for weeks is a thin piece of nylon. “I physically ran into a bear,” says Julia, “and I’d take that over running into a crazy drunk dude any day.”

Despite having overwhelmingly great experiences with trail men, all of the women I spoke with encountered men, especially older white ones, who either made sexist, condescending comments or made them feel unsafe. “I even got ‘smile more,’” Julia says. “It’s exhausting.”

Surprisingly, even woke-ish/feminist-type men creeped many of these women out. Julia said one of her first hiking partners, who seemed progressive, asked to rub her legs. Later, another one repeatedly hit on her and made her feel unsafe. The other guys in her group eventually sided with her and ditched him, but only after she showed enough evidence, like his unnerving texts. The men just didn’t see it, she says. “I’m thinking, how the fuck do you not see this guy is a creep?” Later, while hiking alone, a random guy aggressively probed her about where she was going and who she was with, then found her 200 miles down the trail and threatened to come into the women’s tents while they slept.

Hilary York, a 30-year-old piano technician from Denver, felt a bit gaslit by should-be allies. There were only three men who made her really uncomfortable during her 2,190 mile trek, two of them sketchy enough to scare even the men away. But the third was “your standard hippie type” who undressed her with his eyes and was clearly looking to hook up. When she told her guy friends he made her uncomfortable, they thought she was being dramatic and overly sensitive. Her female friends, on the contrary, unanimously agreed he was creepy. “I think the most frustrating thing is having your intuition downplayed,” says York. Which is why she turned to Facebook.

Most people go into the woods hoping to escape the traps of modern life, especially social media, yet women on the trail don’t always have that luxury. York says an Appalachian Trail group for women on Facebook has become a priceless space that helps women feel as comfortable, safe, and empowered as possible. The moderators are careful not to allow any man-bashing or vague accusations.

As a woman who’s worked almost exclusively in male-dominated industries, namely the outdoors, comedy, and film, I too have relied on whisper networks to feel safe, which is what this women’s FB group does. York says this group was quite critical in getting important information out about James Jordan when rangers couldn't. Oddly enough, the FBI is in charge of crimes committed on the AT because it’s administered by the National Park Service. Some hikershave criticized the FBI for failing to warn or protect everyone from a man they knew was dangerous.

There are a lot of men out there scaring the shit out of women in other ways, which is why we need men to be more thoughtful, pay attention, and be better allies. The stakes are too high in the woods. Women have no way of knowing who will be the next James Jordan versus who’s just an awkward dude or entitled asshole and relatively harmless. Women have to assume the worst.

Since York hiked with a man and has a solid poker face, she felt lucky compared to the “kinder-faced, solo female hikes.” Kristin Forster, a 28-year-old pastry chef living in Hamburg, Germany, had previous experiences with a stalker on the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail), so she knew how to handle sketchy dudes—be nice and calm but don’t answer their questions. But stranger danger wasn’t her problem in the end.

“Other hikers along the way also promised to back Cowan up and help her. But when it came to actually doing anything, none stepped up.”

For eight weeks Forster hiked with a trail partner who seemed chill and supportive. Being on the trail, she says, means you get closer to people faster, especially during extreme weather situations. Like me and my coworkers when I guided on the trail, Forster and her hiking partner would have to snuggle to warm up on brutally cold, rainy days. During one of these times, she felt his dick in her back. “That’s when it got weird.” She doesn’t blame him for getting a boner at all. But when she casually reminded him that she had a boyfriend back home, he flipped a switch and started mocking her and being super mean. She eventually left him because he made the trail so intolerable for her.

Beth, a 39-year-old consultant who’d rather remain anonymous to protect her safety, hiked with a seemingly cool guy for 10 days before he started to attach himself to her “like glue,” hovering over her constantly, even when she needed alone time. She tried to hike ahead several times, but he’d always catch up. After Beth reminded him she was in a committed relationship with a guy back home, he started making comments on her appearance and how attractive she was.

One day he walked up on her changing clothes in one of the shelters, despite her warning him, saw her full frontal naked, then got defensive that she was upset. “I was completely humiliated yet I convinced myself it wasn’t a big deal,” she says. She eventually decided to ditch him for good. Afraid of his reaction to feeling rejected, Beth waited until they were at a hostel in town with the safety of people around to break the news. “His face literally blackened.”

She felt safe once the trail logs were showing him 2-3 days ahead of her. Then she ran into him. He admitted he’d seen her name registered at a hostel and had taken a “zero” day (zero miles) to wait for her. Panicked, she ran after another guy hiking by, told him she was being stalked, and asked if he’d let her hike with him for a bit. Her stalker passed them shortly thereafter and was never seen again. Beth and her new hiking partner, who became a dear friend, hiked all the way to Maine together.

“As women we are programmed to be nice and polite,” she says, “and I actually found it harder to advocate for myself because I had gotten to know this guy.” Other men have since tried to attach themselves to her on long-distance hikes, but she’s learned how to protect herself sooner. “A lot of men on the trail are desperately lonely and will prey on women who come across as sweet and compliant,” she says. Especially if you don’t set firm boundaries out of the gate.

Jessica Cowan, a 38-year-old freelancer from Ohio, set out on the AT alone, assuming she’d find a “tramily” (trail family) like everyone talks about. But she never quite fell in with a group hiking her pace. When she met her stalker, who we’ll call Doc, he seemed charming, generous, and cool. Although she made it clear she had a boyfriend and wasn’t looking for a trail fling or a relationship change, he eventually started to express interest and asked about her relationship. “I found his behaviors really, really creepy, but when I talk about it, nothing I say sounds incredibly creepy,” she says. “I don’t know if it's an overreaction on my part… or if I’m gaslighting myself.” She was even hesitant to use the word stalking when telling this horrific story.

When crashing in shelters, he’d try to scoot his mat next to hers to sleep, wouldn’t avert his eyes when she announced she was changing, and even got caught staring at her when she was using a privy one day. After seeing Doc go on some hostile rants over the smallest things, she knew he was truly unstable. It was another woman briefly hiking with them, a psychologist, who helped her realize he was obsessed with her and that she needed to get a lot of miles ahead of him.

After that, Cowan tried everything to keep distance from Doc. She “slack-packed” (paying someone to drive her gear up the road), pushed her body to the limit, day after day, and even bought a new tent with wildly different colors to camouflage herself. Whenever she thought she was far enough ahead of him, another hiker would say he was nearby. Doc eventually caught up to her at a hostel after paying someone to drive him up the road.

Cowan finally filed a police report so they’d at least have him on their radar. Hostel workers promised her not to welcome him, but in the end, only one kept his word. The rest gave him the benefit of the doubt. Cowan thinks it was just easier to take his money. Other hikers along the way also promised to back Cowan up and help her. But when it came to actually doing anything, none stepped up. Despite her having mostly pleasant encounters with men on the trail, their blind-eye approach was disappointing. “I think a lot of men are guilty of taking that path of least resistance.”

Cowan did keep her boyfriend, Cowboy Knueve, apprised of the situation the whole time. “You have no idea how much sleep I lost,” he says. “I was sitting home worrying about her and this asshat.” Right after Cowboy dropped her off at the beginning of her hike, James Jordan murdered one hiker and wounded another on the trail in Virginia. “I knew how important this whole thing was for her,” he says. “It just pissed me off that he ruined her trip.” Even though Cowan told him she had it handled, Knueve finally drove 700 miles to make sure.

Knueve stayed with Cowan at night and ran shuttles for fellow hikers during the day while she hiked. He says he met at least a half a dozen women who’d done a lot of night hiking and “busted their ass” to get away from this same guy. Cowan and Kneuve tried to warn everyone about Doc.

One day they actually saw him at a campsite, so Knueve decided to confront him. Having googled the guy, he knew he was a multiple felon and had been charged for unlawful imprisonment of a woman. “I wanted to spray the man and kick him until he’s tired…. but I didn’t want to go to jail.” Instead he told Doc he knew he was stalking women and harshly warned him to stay away.

“If anyone fucks with me on the trail this year, I’m gonna punch you in the fucking face and carry the fuck on.”

Before leaving to go home, Kneuve drove Cowan 200 miles up the road to give her a safe distance from Doc. Shortly after, though, they picked up another hitchhiker and she was running away from Doc. That’s when Cowan realized this just wasn’t fun anymore. “I should only have to worry about where I’m getting water and where I’m gonna sleep,” she says. “Not if he’s gonna turn up.” She made it a few hundred miles farther, but finally gave up. Instead of enjoying any hard-earned sense of accomplishment or pride for hiking one thousand miles, Cowan couldn't feel excited about her milestones. It all seemed pointless. “I felt like I was running for my life every day.”

“I encountered a lot of promises of support that didn’t really hold up. Except for my boyfriend, I didn’t see anyone else confronting him or calling him on his bullshit. I think they all just wanted to stay away,” she says. “Especially after the murder.” She’s still amazed that one man could affect hundreds of miles of hiking for so many people. More than anything, Cowan hopes this story will lead to men stepping up. Or at the very least, believing women.

Having solo hiked the Appalachian Trail before, Missy Barger went into her 2019 hike already prepared to play by different rules than men have to. “We have to be hyper aware, but also not jump to any conclusions,” says the 49-year-old photographer from Boston. She watches men closely but plays it cool, never giving them hugs or smiling too much. “And men?” she laughs “Well, they... just get to hike!” Being older, more experienced on the AT and more confident than a lot of her twentysomething female peers, she knows she’s regarded as “one tough motherfucker.” That usually “keeps guys off” her. And yet, despite all this, even Barger ended up with a stalker.

She’d been camping right down the road when the murder happened, so she was even more careful this year. “An odd person doesn’t strike me as different. We’re all odd… cuz we’re out here,” Barger says. But when a guy, who we’ll call Bear, started going on aggressive political rants and undressing in front of her, she knew it was time to bounce. The next day he popped up on her path and wouldn’t let her through. When he appeared a third time and started to verbally assault her, she and her “tramily” hiked four hours in the middle of the night in the pouring rain to get away. They later reported him to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC).

In the end, Barger had to skip the whole state of New Jersey and half of New York to get away from Bear, but she went back and completed that section later. This detour and return trip cost her nearly $600. Whether it’s the actual price of shuttles, extra nights in hostels, a new tent to camouflage yourself or the emotional burden of fearing for your life, the “female tax” is a hefty one, even in the woods.

Luckily, Barger found great male allies, like Eric Bellavance. This 51-year-old heavy equipment mechanic from Boston and trail vet waited to pursue a romantic relationship with Barger until after they completed the trail. One way he believes men can be supportive of women is to use more self-restraint than they might back home. “You want to be extra aware of being creepy. It’s that simple,” he says. “If they’re whipping off their clothes, just turn away and start doing stuff,” he says. Give them their privacy and space when they need it, keep your distance, and don’t touch them, he says. While Bellavance thinks most thru-hikers, by a certain point, become acclimated on how to interact with women and not freak them out, there are still those who do whatever they want because “it’s kinda lawless” on the trail. “They’re out here because society won’t tolerate their behavior back home,” he says. “We’re all out here because we don’t fit in society.” But this lack of social codes and rules is exactly why women need men to be more careful and step up.

Bellavance says some day-hikers and locals will hang out on the trail and wait for solo women to pass by, just to prey on them. Warning others or reporting them to authorities is one thing men can do. Sometimes he says hikers have to take trail justice into their own hands, though. Last year a section-hiker touched a woman in her sleep at one of the backpacker hostels, so Bellavance and his friend tracked him down and threatened to kick his ass if he did it again. When another male hiker exposed himself to a woman on the trail, Bellavance welcomed her to hike with them.

“We are asking men in the outdoor industry to listen, believe us, step up, and use your privilege to call out other men.”

“I look at it this way—it’s already hard enough, women don’t need any shit from men.” Bellavance lets spooked women latch onto him when they need to since women are way less likely to be approached by a guy when they’re already with one. He never asks women for their phone numbers, real names (most go by a trail name), or social media handles because he knows men are harassing and stalking women online too. When Barger hikes solo, a lot of men ask to be snapchat friends. “Fuck, I just want to hike,” she says. “I have to have extra guardrails up when I post on social media.”

In general, Barger has run out of patience for men’s bullshit. “If anyone fucks with me on the trail this year, I’m gonna punch you in the fucking face and carry the fuck on.” She refuses to be scared off by men and encourages other women not to be either. To help protect current and future female hikers, Barger is very active on FB groups.

Unfortunately, those groups aren’t always safe either.

Shilletha Curtis, a writer from Newark, New Jersey, plans to hike the entire Appalachian in 2021. As a Black woman and a lesbian, though, she’s not sure who will have her back out there, as she’s already faced harassment on her trail day hikes. In a co-ed AT Facebook group, white men have already been harassing her about her recent publication, some posting “Hikers Lives Matter.” The male FB administrators have accused her of race baiting when she talks about racism on the trail. “We need to make these groups a safe space for everyone, not just white members, as Black people do hike.” Latrina Graham’s powerful essay about being a Black woman just trying to hike goes even deeper into this huge problem.

Until white hikers, particularly white men, do more to make the trail safer for everyone, what do the rest of us do? Not hiking isn’t an option, nor should it be. Most women I spoke with agreed that the best way to stay safe is to trust your intuition and to avoid gaslighting yourself or being too “nice.” Always sign guest books as two people or use a male/ambiguous name, invent a “dude backstory” about a “friend” that’s nearby, and never post photos at recognizable spots on social media. Obviously it’s #notallATmen making women’s lives hard... but it only takes one.

We are asking men in the outdoor industry to listen, believe us, step up, and use your privilege to call out other men. That’s what will help us feel safe. We are tired. We need your help.

Because we belong here, too.

#male predators #females on the trail #safety

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twokinkybeans · 5 years ago

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Jar Of Dirt 15: The Kink [Starker Fanfiction NFSW/18+]

Kink/Sexual Warnings: Puppy Play, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Name-Calling, Humiliation, Feminization, Sex Toy/Buttplug, Anal Sex, Collar, Leash, Voice Kink. Other Warnings: NoneSee the notes at the end for more info regarding our spin-offs!!!

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Chapter 15: The Kink Peter has no idea why, but whenever he hangs with MJ, their conversations always end up steering towards topics that should probably not be discussed in a public place such as the coffee shop they always go to. Yet, here they are again, sipping their lattés, talking sex. “So, you know a lot about me at this point- probably too much,” Peter laughs, lowering his voice. “-But I don’t know much about you.” The corners of MJ’s mouth curl up into a smile. “That is correct,” she replies with a snort. She puts a spoonful of cream in her mouth and sucks on it for a second before taking it out to point at Peter with it. “Any guesses?” “Wha- as in, what you’re into?” Peter realizes his voice had raised in volume again, so he ducks his head. “Yeah, man. Can you read me?” MJ smirks and Peter shakes his head, slowly turning the coffee glass between his hands. “Spider powers, Em. Not kink-guessing powers. “Huh,” MJ scoffs as she leans back in her seat. “Not as great as everyone says you are.” Peter tosses his still wrapped up coffee cookie at her. “Meanie!” he exclaims quietly.

“Alright, alright,” she laughs. “I’m a switch.” MJ leans forward and rests her head in her hand, leaning her elbow on the table. Her cheek gets squished slightly. “Though, I lean towards domming more. I ride the guys I fuck, and I peg the girls. Simple as that.” Peter turns beet red. “Okay,” he squeaks quietly. He can’t help but imagine MJ naked, doing the exact things she just casually explained, as if there are not at least twenty other people in this coffee shop trying to enjoy their caffeine with an overly sweet treat. MJ grins, knowing exactly how flustered Peter gets with stuff like this, and she’s quietly enjoying it. They established a while back that they can be honest with each other, so as long as Peter doesn’t tell her to change the subject, she won’t. “If we talk kinks, however…” She leans further forward, as if she’s about to spill a big secret. Peter, unaware of his own actions, leans in slightly as well, staring intently at her. The hand she just rested her cheek in gently caresses her jawline and slowly moves down until her fingers curl around her throat. “I like being choked.” Peter stares at her in disbelief. “You like-?” He points at his own neck. MJ nods simply and takes another sip from her coffee, her hand still rests around her throat and Peter’s mouth goes a little dry when she squeezes slightly. He tears his eyes away from her neck and takes another sip from his coffee. “Yep. I like the thrill it gives me. The lack of oxygen makes me lightheaded, which adds to the pleasure.”

Peter let’s MJ’s words sink in for a second. The thought of being choked makes his Spider senses flare up inside his brain, just like it did when he thought about the hot wax falling on his body when Tony and Peter tried the temperature play. Not good. He’s still unsure why he does like being spanked, even though his Spider sense would prevent him from getting hit like that, but he settles on the statement that brains and bodies are just… Weird. “I don’t think I’m into that…” he mumbles as he looks away. MJ stifles a laugh. “You’re into a lot of other kinky stuff, Pete, you don’t have to like everything .” “I know, I know-” Peter smiles, but it falters as he raises his hand to touch his neck. He remembers all the times Tony’s fingers had curled around his throat. How they caressed him and squeezed slightly, not blocking his airpipe, but still applying a sweet yet stern kind of pressure. Possessive. He bites his cheek when he thinks back to a specific memory with Tony. The bow tie. Peter loved it. Loved how Tony tugged at it to pull him closer. Loved the rush of arousal it gave him.

“Pete?” “Hm?” Peter is shaken out of his train of thought by MJ, who grins at him from the other side of the table. She nods at Peter’s neck and he realizes he’s holding himself the same way MJ held her throat herself just a little bit ago. “Oh.” He lets go of himself and looks at his hand before deciding he didn’t mind the feeling around his neck. “I do like the feeling of having something around my neck,” he mutters. “Like-” he looks back up at MJ. “My neck’s very sensitive, I guess?” MJ scoffs a smile. “Not surprised,” she quips. “Ever seen a spider with a neck?” Peter frowns, unsure where MJ’s beautifully strange mind is going this time. “No,” he chuckles uncertain. “That’s ‘cause they evolved out of it. The ones with necks were probably Darwinned out of existence hundreds of thousands of years ago!” She holds her spoon up while she takes a quick sip, indicating she’s not done yet. “It’s a weak spot! Too sensitive! You’re very unfortunate to have a neck, Mr. Parker.” “Were there ever spiders with necks?” Peter can’t help but laugh and play along. "Can’t prove that there weren’t." MJ winks. "Better watch your neck, Pete."

The comment makes Peter hide his face in his hands again. MJ really has her way with words. “You’re making fun of me again,” he says with a smile. “Don’t have to call me out on that, you should be worried when I don’t make fun of you.” “Noted,” Peter laughs. “Noted.” “So!” MJ tosses her spoon in her half empty glass. “You like the slight pressure around your neck?” Peter swallows and nods slightly. “Y-yeah, I guess-” “Okay, scratch what I said earlier, cause I’m not making fun of you for this kind of stuff, okay? No kink shaming in this house. Or any house, to be honest.” Peter fiddles with his fingers and nods as he looks at them. “Thanks.” “Ever considered wearing chokers or collars?” Peter’s head whips up to look at MJ. Her expression is serious. “I’ve had some subs who liked the constant reminder of being owned by their dominant- me, I guess, at that point. Collars did the trick. The whole thing was super sensual to them. From the act of being collared up by their daddy to being pulled on a leash and-” “Woah-woah-woah-” Peter stops MJ with his hands raised in front of him. “Did you just-” “Refer to myself as daddy? Yeah? Got a problem with that, Parker?” MJ grins wide and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “No, no, of course not!” He laughs sheepishly and hides his face. They are literally having this conversation in a crowded coffee shop. He knows at least four people have tuned in to their conversation and are following it. There’s no denying; he literally sees them glance their way every now and then. “Good, cause girls can be daddies too.” Peter’s going to pretend that line didn’t go straight to his dick. As if nothing just happened, MJ continues her train of thought. “If you wanna try a collar I can send you a couple links. There’s some good websites out there.” Peter presses his lips on each other and nods gratefully. He chugs the rest of the coffee, hoping it’ll distract him from whatever he’s feeling right now. However, when he angles his head up, he’s suddenly extremely aware of how exposed his neck is and the mere idea of having something straining around it slightly nearly has him choke on the last sip. He clears his throat and licks his lips, taking off the foam and tasting the sweet of the caramell. A collar . He quietly hopes MJ won’t forget sending him the links. He’d probably be too much of a chicken to ask her for them. Luckily for him, MJ immediately grabs her phone and browses for her favourite online stores to send them to Peter. He takes a breath and smiles. “Thanks.”

Tony hums happily when Peter nestles himself into Tony’s side and rests his hand on the boy’s back. Tony has been splayed out on the couch for a little over thirty minutes now, trying to take a nap and failing badly. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering off to last week. Peter had surprised him with a trip to a certain spa in Italy. Tony hadn’t realized how on-edge he’d been lately - the amount of stress from work was driving him absolutely nuts. Peter had noticed. Had known that Tony needed a little break. He couldn’t believe that Peter spent such a huge amount of money and it’d turned him on big time. The arousal evident throughout the entire trip. He smiles at the memory of Peter wearing the laurel crown. The hot and steamy baths they’d taken together, day in day out. It was safe to say his sweet Cupido had taken very good care of him. He’s casually playing with Peter’s hair now. He loves the way the soft, brown locks curl around his fingers. Peter makes him so happy. So incredibly happy. He can’t believe it sometimes. That this… amazing being is his boyfriend. That Peter chose him. Loves him. Out of all people. Peter’s been there, every step of the way. They faced so many things together. Battles, near-death experiences, the whole MIT incident. Talking openly about literally everything. From their favorite foods, to their deepest fears, to… To their all-over-the-place sexual interests.

He loves Peter. He truly loves him.

And fuck it. He’s ready. He’s ready to show Peter his last secret. The last thing that he’s held back for so, so long now. “Wait here,” he says, startling Peter in their embrace. He scrambles up, careful not to hurt Peter in the process and walks over to the kitchen. He grabs the jar and takes it back with him. He sits down, opens it and turns it over, dropping all the notes out. “Tony, what are you-” Tony just smiles at him. His heart is pounding in his ribcage so hard and so fast it should be terrifying. But somehow, it isn’t. He knows he’s ready. He knows Peter loves him no matter what. He trusts him. He trusts Peter to cherish this little side of him - whether he likes it or not. He rummages through the notes. Where is it? Stranger RP, Kitchen Sex, Sex in Spiderman Suit - What now? Tony chuckles as he reads it but continues the search until he finally finds the one little note he’d been looking for. The one he pulled out so long ago only to throw it back in there because he’d been too scared. He swallows, taking a deep breath as he hands the little paper over to his very obviously confused boyfriend. “I’m ready, Pete.”

Peter’s eyes widen and he carefully takes the note. “Is… Is this…” “Yeah.” “Fuck, Tony, are you sure?” Tony chuckles, nodding fast as his heart warms at the idea that Peter is double-checking with him. Only solidifying the idea that this is indeed the right time. “Yeah, yeah, kid, just read the damned thing. You’re killing me here.” Peter grins at that and he bites down his lips. His eyes sparkle when he unfolds the note and reads what’s on there.

Puppy Play .

He’s silent for a moment, his lips parting in a slight ‘oh’. Peter gets it now. Why Tony loved making him crawl- why he made him hump pillows and give him short commands such as “Sit” and “Down, boy.” Fuck. Peter’s cheeks flush. He hasn’t even given those things a second thought but, never thought about being a… puppy, before. But he sure as hell knows how much he enjoys it when Tony treats him like that. He loves the humiliation, the power shift, the way Tony praises him for being a good boy. He looks up at the older man. He can see why he’d been scared to bring it up. It’s such a specific thing. His mind flashes back to Tony’s birthday party when he threw Beck out the Tower. The man had sneered a bark at him. He finally understood why and - oh god. He also remembers what he told Tony afterwards. “As if I’m your dog or anything like that.” It hurts thinking about it, thinking how he unconsciously made Tony push away from this thing even further.

But not anymore.

“I see…” he whispers, slowly moving off the couch and dropping onto his knees right between Tony’s legs. Tony’s gaze darkens straight-up, licking his lips unconsciously. “Fuck, Pete-” he whispers breathlessly. “You really want to do this with me?” Peter nods, shifting forward and resting his chin on top of Tony’s leg. Tony huffs out a surprised breath, tentatively reaching out for Peter’s curls once more. But he doesn’t run his fingers through it like he usually does. His fingertips ruffle through his hair just behind Peter’s ear. It’s hesitant, Peter can feel it, and he doesn’t know why but that turns him on. He wants Tony to go all in. To go for it. Make Peter his puppy. So he whines, tilting his head leaning into the playful touch. “Oh look at you, my pretty boy, I wish I could put a collar on you.” Peter’s lips part at the mere idea and he gulps, smirking lightly. “What if…” Peter whispers, thinking about the beautiful black leather collar he ordered about two months ago. “What if you could?” After MJ’s little speech on how her subs like the slight, neverending pressure on their throats, Peter’s been craving it. He’s been craving feeling owned . The constant reminder that he’s Tony’s every time he swallows. He’d only wore it once while masturbating, imagining Tony using it to yank the boy wherever he wants. With that image in his mind, he’d come so hard and he’d been embarrassed to wear it again. He figured Tony would’ve seen his order in his bank account - but he hadn’t said anything so Peter took it as a silent sign that Tony wasn’t into it. Guess he’d been wrong to make that assumption. “ What? ” “I-I may have bought a collar and a leash a couple months ago,” Peter squeaks, his cheeks flaring up once more. Tony moans, so obscenely it has Peter nearly whimper with arousal. Tony’s voice is broken and rushed when he speaks again, his finger brushing past Peter’s cheek and ruffling through his hair once more, scratching the skin behind his ear.

“Fetch, boy.”

Tony stares as the boy rushes off to their bedroom. Dammit. He’s so awfully hard in his sweats already. The boy has a collar. The boy has had a collar for months and he didn’t know it. He doesn’t mind, not at all. His throat is dry at the mental image of holding Peter on a leash. He’s so ready for this and he waits eagerly for Peter to return. Which, thank god, doesn’t take too long. Tony’s breath hitches when he sees Peter. He’s stark naked, his hard cock strained against his abdomen. A black collar and a leash dangling from his hands, the little chain clanking when he moves. He looks so innocent and sexy at the same time that it nearly knocks his breath from his lungs. Puppy. “Oh God, Peter, c’mere, I want to buckle that collar around your pretty throat.” Tony chokes out, not sure what to do with himself. Peter’s eyes start sparkling at Tony’s obvious arousal. His lips curl into a mischievous smile as he brings his hands up agonizingly slow, clamping the collar between his teeth. He tilts his head, the leash playfully dancing to the movement and Peter growls. A silent noise but Tony didn’t miss it. The sound echoes in his mind. He wants to hear it again. “Pe-” He doesn’t even have time to speak, the boy sends him a little wink before turning around and walking into their bedroom once again. His hips swaying teasingly. The message is clear. Come and get me, daddy. Tony huffs a shaky breath, grinning madly. This, Peter rolling with it so easily, so playfully, is a dream come true. So he decides to give the boy what he’s wordlessly asking for. Rising off the couch, walking to their bedroom. His heart is pounding in his chest, strong and fast as he wonders what Peter’s up to. He can’t wait to find out.

Peter grins around the collar in his mouth, his sensitive hearing how Tony approaches him. Step by step, coming closer and closer. Just a few more seconds. His body’s buzzing with excitement and arousal. He takes a deep breath knowing just how much Tony’s gonna love his little plan. Peter already likes being a little puppy. How it gives him a green card to let out his more naughty side. Tony’s almost there, almost… The second he sees the man appear in the doorway, he laughs, rushing out of the bedroom headed for the couch. He loves the surprised noise coming from Tony’s mouth and he jumps onto the cushion, lowering his upper body, his butt high in the air. Tony’s face is priceless. He looks so startled and turned on at the same time. Peter fucking loves it. He has no clue what he’s doing honestly, but he knows what puppies are like. So he tilts his head again, whining softly as he slowly starts wagging his butt.

“Oh, you are in big trouble,” Tony grunts and strides towards the boy. Peter yelps in surprise and leans back, hiding his face behind the armrest, but Tony’s there with him before he even processes it. “Drop it.” Peter growls again, shaking his head wildly. The thrill at the mere idea of Tony’s potential punishment has him trembling with desire. Tony snorts at the boy’s defiance and grabs his collar. When the man tugs, Peter’s cock twitches and he moans surprised. He doesn’t let go, clamping his teeth tighter into the sturdy leather band. “Peter, I’m giving you one last chance. Drop the collar or I will not let you cum for the rest of the fucking week. I’ll make you hump for hours and hours without ever granting you release. How’s that, uh? Let. Go. ” Peter’s breath hitches at the threat. Part of him wants to see how far he can take this. Likes the idea of being told no. But fuck, he’s so horny already he really needs to come tonight. So he growls but drops the collar into Tony’s hand. The man grins, clearly pleased with the outcome. “ Good booooooy, ” Tony coos, making Peter whimper instantly. “Do you want the collar, pretty puppy?” Peter nods, staring at the way Tony lets the black leather glide through his fingers. It looks so smooth. He wants to feel it around his throat so badly. “P-please, Sir, I want it.” “Begging so nicely already, that’s more like it, sweetness.” Tony grins and sits on the couch, resting into the sides nonchalantly. “But puppies don’t belong on the couch now do they?” Peter has never dropped to the floor this fast ever in his life. They’re back where they started. Tony on the couch, Peter kneeling between his legs. Deja vu. Only this time there’s a collar and Peter eyes it desperately, gulping when Tony leans forward. “Stay,” he breathes and Peter moans, nearly jolting when Tony’s fingers brush past the sensitive skin of his neck. The leather strap digging into his skin as Tony fastens it. It’s heavy and so obviously there and Peter wonders why he’d hidden it for so long. Everything about this feels so damn right. “How’s that feel, buddy?” “So good. F-Feels so good Tony, I love it, I… C-Can you please tighten it?” He pleads. He wants to feel it better. Wants to feel it pressed into his skin without remorse. Tony hums softly, fingers working on the buckle to give in to Peter’s plea. The moment the man tightens it, a surge or white hot arousal shoots through Peter’s body. Owned. I’m owned. “Better?” “ Tighter. ”

Tony chuckles, tightening the collar once more. Peter groans, feeling how every beat of his heart echoes through the pressure around his jugulars. Yes, yes, yes. “There you go, sweet pup. I still need you to breathe,” Tony whispers leaning back, admiring the harsh contrast between the black leather and Peter’s pale skin. He grabs the leash that’s dangling from the D-ring in front, tugging on it slightly, making Peter moan as he can’t do anything but give in to the movement. Tony’s free hand ruffles through his hair, deliberately messing up his curls. It feels so good though that Peter doesn’t mind at all. He’s ashamed to admit he doesn’t ever want Tony to stop petting him like that. “Daddy, I-” “Hush, Petey, puppies don’t talk now do they?” Peter whimpers when he realizes how Tony just shut him up with one single sentence. Oh god. He won’t even be able to talk back, or plead, or ask- only whine. Make noise. He groans and smirks when he realizes that that’s the whole thing. Tony wants him to make noise . He’s so ready for it.

Tony shifts, his legs falling apart and Peter gulps when he sees the clear outline of Tony’s hard-on through his sweatpants. Tony grins as he sees Peter’s hungry gaze. “Is there something you want, buddy?” Peter nods desperately. Rising up, leaning his arms - or paws, call it what you like - on Tony’s legs. Nuzzling his face into Tony’s chest playfully. “Hooo boy, easy now.” Tony chuckles, pushing him down again. Peter’s on all fours now, grinning, licking his lips and he wags his butt. Tony’s eyes darken at that. He shifts up to tug his sweats and boxers down. Peter stares at his hard cock. God, he wants to wrap his lips around it. Suck on it, making Tony feel good. “Oh, cucciolo … You gonna make daddy feel good?”

Cucciolo. Cucciolo… Why does that sound so familiar? His mind flashes back to the Italian spa, the first time they were there. The Italian pet names. Peter asking what they meant. Tony had answered all of them. Amore. Bambino. Caro. Except for… “And Cucciolo ?” “Oh, I don't know about that one exactly. All I know is that it's a pet name.”

“All this time,” Peter breathes out, his eyes opening wide. “Tony! I asked you what it, cucciolo, meant, I… You are so slick. ” Tony grins and leans forward, his face mere inches away from Peter. “ Cucciolo ,” he whispers, before his hand gently scratches behind Peter’s ear. Peter fights the urge to moan and maintains eye contact with Tony. “ Puppy. ” Tony smiles triumphantly and drops himself back on the couch, letting go of Peter. The boy whines at the lack of touch, but also can’t help the surge of arousal coursing through him. “Now, get your clever little mouth to work.” Tony tugs Peter forward using the leash. Peter immediately complies and sits up so he can reach Tony’s hard cock. Now that his attention has been shifted back to what needs to be done, he’s already forgotten what he wanted to say. He couldn’t speak if he tried, completely enthralled by the twitching shaft in front of him. He leans down and closes his eyes, anticipating the soft impact of his face hitting Tony’s skin. He gasps softly when he does, his hot breath causes Tony to jolt slightly.

Peter’s mouth is already half-opened, but he can’t help himself. Instead of wrapping his lips around Tony, he presses his head further, nuzzling the older man’s crotch. Licking, sighing, moaning… He laps at the head absentmindedly when Tony places his hand on Peter’s hair, tugging at his hair. “Taste good, don’t I?” he growls. Peter nods as he continues, his nose pushed in all directions as he cocks his head. His eyes are still closed and he smells, no, sniffs. Tony’s arousal fills his nostrils and the boy shakes. Peter leaves wet kisses everywhere; on the shaft, lower abdomen- he even suckles on Tony’s balls one by one and Tony’s panting becomes louder. His hips start thrusting up slightly and unconsciously, Peter humps the air too. “Go on, Cucciolo, ” Tony coos. “Take me whole.” Peter immediately raises his hand to hold onto Tony’s cock, angling him so he can wrap his lips around him. He hollows out his cheeks, not able to stop humping the air and he bobs his head, eliciting the most arousing sounds from his daddy.

Tony stares at his desperate boy and shifts one leg with a smirk, pressing it between his and Peter’s body and inviting his puppy to find friction by slightly lifting it from the floor. He pushes his shank between Peter’s legs, flexing his foot around Peter’s butt to urge him closer. His puppy moans around Tony’s cock - the vibrations sending shivers through Tony’s body - when he finally gets to hump something. His daddy’s leg of all things. Tony helps him, rubbing against Peter’s aching cock with his leg slowly. However, he also helps himself… Tony’s hand still rests on Peter’s head, curls stuck in his tight grasp. His other hand holds the leash and at the same time, he pushes Peter’s head down further while applying pressure to Peter’s neck by pulling at the leash. The boy nearly chokes on Tony’s cock, eyes rolling back as he desperately ruts against daddy’s leg. His moans are getting louder and louder, the sucking around Tony’s dick sloppier. The boy’s getting close to his orgasm. Tony’s not done with his sweet little thing yet.

“Off, buddy,” Tony breathes, biting his lips when Peter’s lips let go - leaving him throbbing. Peter sits back, his butt resting on his heels as he stares up at Tony in confusion. Eyes innocent and big. Tony licks his lips. “Good boy. Watch.” Tony groans when he curls his fingers around the base of his own cock. He squeezes slightly before pumping his hand up and down. He starts out slowly, enjoying the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. Peter eyes him closely, his lips still parted. “You’re gonna behave today, sweet little pup,” he grunts. “That is, if you want to come. Tonight. ” Peter whimpers, shaking his head slightly. Tony can see him mouth a quick series of no’s but he doesn’t speak. Already behaving. Good. Definitely a good sign. Tony takes a sharp breath, speeding up. Faster, and faster, and faster. He stares at Peter’s needy face and fuck, he wants to come all over him. Watch his cum drip down the boy’s cheeks and, oh dammit, he’s so close. So close. “You wanna have a taste? Fuck, Pete- I…” Tony’s voice trails off, his hand moving up and down as fast as he can. He grunts, his hips bucking into his own touch when pleasure washes over him. He gasps, panting out loud when he sees trails of him staining his boy’s hungry face. “Fuck, fuck…” Tony takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. Peter looks… Filthy. If he had Peter’s Spider abilities he would’ve been hard again in an instant just at the sight. “Messy boy,” Tony whispers, voice rough as he sticks out his hand. Most of his cum landed on Peter’s gorgeous face, but some of it had trickled down his hand. “C’mere, lick me clean.” Peter dives right in, tongue lapping at the digits, sucking them into his mouth harshly. Tony just watches, entranced. “Good boy. So good for daddy, aren’t you?” Peter nods, not stopping his tongue swirling across his skin until he gently brushes him off.

“Peter, listen carefully. I’m keeping you on your knees all day, you hear me?” Peter’s eyes widen and he whines, nodding desperately. “You want that? You can speak for now.” “I want that, daddy. Very much.” “Good, use your safeword if you need to stop. Otherwise, I expect full obedience or there will be consequences. Is that clear?” “Yes,” Peter smiles, tilting his head. “Does that mean you’ll feed me?” “Alright boy, time to shut up again.” Tony chuckles, petting the boy’s hair. Peter grins widely and leans into the touch, sighing happily. “But yes, no worries. I won’t let you starve. I do love you.” Peter nudges his nose against Tony’s knee, accidentally rubbing some of Tony’s cum on it but Tony couldn’t care less. He knows what Peter’s saying. I love you too.

Tony’s staring at his pup resting in his lap, his fingers running through the boy’s cute curls. After Tony came he’d patted the couch, Peter grinning happily at the privilege that allowed him to be comfortable, resting into his boyfriend’s side. The TV’s turned on, but Tony doesn’t really watch the show that’s playing. He’s too enamoured by Peter’s soft features as his heads lols back from dozing off. The sudden movement startles his puppy, making him whine quietly and shift until the process happens all over again. They’ve been like this for a little over an hour, and Tony should probably get started on prepping dinner. But Peter looks so soft and sweet, napping like this. His muscles are completely relaxed, his jaw is slacked and his eyelids twitch slightly. He’s dreaming. Tony’s eyes wander off to the boy’s cock, still hard. But not as hard as he had been before. Tony licks his lips, carefully reaching out for the shaft and curling his fingers around it.

Peter groans quietly, pressing himself into Tony’s touch. His hips mindlessly roll against the older man’s grip. Tony grins. His puppy is still horny. He rolls his thumb over the head and the sweetest sound falls from Peter’s lips. He’s not waking up, though. Tony continues giving the boy’s cock attention until he’s content with how hard it is. “Hey, buddy, wake up.” Tony flicks one of Peter’s nipples with his other hand. The pup gasps and jolts awake. When he realizes what Tony is doing, he immediately relaxes into the man’s touch again. “Nnhhhhg,” Peter moans, shaking his head. “Petey…” Tony coos, his other hand ruffling through his hair. Peter sighs happily, pliant in the man’s arms. “You hungry boy?” Peter’s eyes are wide-open all of a sudden, looking up at Tony with an adorable little smile. “Thought so. First things first, though.” Tony reaches for the black cube on the side table. “Gonna plug you up, buddy. Keep you hard and aching all day, ready for me to fuck you whenever.” Tony says and licks his lips as he sees how it makes Peter’s cheeks flush. “You’ll feel it moving inside when you crawl, baby, and oh I do intend to make you crawl.”

Peter nods frantically. He wants it. He wants it so badly. He catches himself almost chanting a series of pleas and clamps his jaws together, knowing any word would probably make Tony force him to wait even longer. He does want to show his… Enthusiasm. So he arches up, licking a wet stripe across Tony’s jaw and giggles at the man’s surprised face. “Now, someone’s excited,” Tony huffs and wipes the saliva off using his sleeve. Peter grins, turning around to get on his hands and knees, wagging his butt playfully. Tony actually laughs this time and smacks his butt. Peter moans at the light sting, a rush of arousal washing over him. “Stay still, pup.” Tony orders him as he quickly gets his phone out to change the shape of the cube until a cute little buttplug. Peter’s glad to see it isn’t a very big one. He knows just how much this is going to fuck with his head, so not being thrown into all this too harshly is nice. Not that he’s under the impression that the smaller plug is going to be easy. He can only imagine how good it’ll feel moving inside him. Making him ache and yearn for his daddy’s cock. Peter gasps when the cold, lubricated tip trails past his hole. Teasing him, making him arch into the touch desperately. Yes, yes yes. Tony doesn’t tease for too long and carefully slips it in. Peter moans at the increasing stretch, breathing heavily as Tony moves in and out, twisting. He wants to beg. Wants to talk. Wants to cry Tony’s name when the toy hits his prostate. Please please don’t stop, never stop. “Oh yes, that feels so good. Doesn’t it cucciolo ?” Tony’s voice is rough, sending shivers down Peter’s spine. As a response he wags his butt again, pushing back into the toy only to sob with pleasure as it brushes past his G-spot once more.

“Alright,” Tony states curtly, tugging on the toy slightly to see if it’s secured in place and then lets go of it. “-that’s downright naughty. I know you’re a needy little thing, know you simply can’t help yourself.” Peter whimpers, cheeks flaring up and his hips rolling into the air as his body unconsciously tries to chase the pleasure once again. “-It’s my job to teach you how to be a good boy though, and I will.” Peter doesn’t quite understand why, but he loves all of this so much. Loves being a naughty, needy little thing. Humping Tony’s leg, falling asleep in his lap with a collar buckled tight around his throat, being denied the very pleasure he wants so badly. It does things to him. To his body, but also his mind. He feels like he’s dreaming, happy and carefree and taken care of. When he looks over his shoulder to watch Tony’s face, he sees that all of this has the exact same effect on his boyfriend. He gets why Tony loves this so much, and thank god, so does he.

“Down, boy.” Tony says, interrupting Peter’s thoughts and he groans. He doesn’t want to get on the floor, but he’s very curious for Tony’s next step in their game. He looks at the floor, feels the plug and wonders how on earth he’ll ever pull this off. Gulping, he reaches for the floor, the plug angling into his hole so nicely it has him whimper. He pushes through though, clenching his jaws as he manages to get to the floor without torturing himself too much. It’s enough though, enough to have him shaking with desire. Tony scratches him behind his ear playfully. “That’s it buddy,” Tony gets up from the couch, readjusting the hard cock in his sweats a little too obviously. Intentionally. Peter licks his lips just staring at it. He knows Tony will fuck him tonight. He can’t wait. He- “Heel.” Tony tugs on the leash. It forces Peter to scramble up from his position. Heel. That means to follow closely, right? He blushes as he crawls, hoping he doesn’t mess up as he stays close to Tony’s leg. The older man smirks down at him. “ Good boy. ” Peter smiles, his movements becoming more confident now he knows he did understand correctly. His knees hurt where they hit the floor, but he doesn’t care honestly. Heck, he hopes they bruise. With every step he feels the plug moving inside of him, making it hard for him to stay focussed. His balls have been aching for release for so long now, they feel so goddamn tight, and every brush past his sweet spot makes it harder and harder not to jerk off. Once they’re in the kitchen, Tony ties the leash around the handle of their oven. “Can’t have you run off now can we?” He ruffles through Peter’s hair. “Show me how hard you are, cucciolo .” Peter blushes and spreads his legs a little wider. Tony nods approvingly at the sight and starts moving around the kitchen. Putting a pan on the stove, cutting the ingredients and stir-frying them - the smell makes Peter’s stomach rumble. Now that he thinks about it, he has no clue what time it is. Has no clue how long he’s been a puppy. He looks over his shoulder but can’t see the clock. When he cranes his neck, the leash holds him back in place. Dammit. “Easy boy, daddy’s making food for you. I know how hungry you are.” Peter nods and decides to lay down on his side. Knees tucked in. If he has to wait, he better be comfortable.

About five minutes later, Tony turns the stove off and Peter perks up, staring at him intently. Tony grins, reaching into the pan and then crouching down in front of Peter with a little piece of chicken between his fingertips. Peter gulps. He just knows what’s about to happen. “Sit.” The short command makes Peter shiver and he sits up right away, butt resting on his heels. Tony ruffles through Peter’s hair and holds the piece of chicken in front of Peter’s mouth. For some stupid reason, eating out of Tony’s hands is a thousand times more humiliating than crawling around on a damned leash. He’s hesitant when he leans forward, taking it and sighing happily when the rich flavor fills his mouth. He chews. Swallows. Looks up at Tony. “You’re doing such a good job buddy, I’m so proud of you.” Peter moans as the impact of the praise kicks in. His dick twitches, still hard and strained against his abdomen. He loves Tony. The man must’ve sensed his slight embarrassment. “You make daddy so happy.” With that, Tony stands up to take another piece of chicken from the pan. “Let’s see how well you can catch.” Peter’s eyes widen. Oh, God. He’s going to fail miserably. He stares at Tony’s hand. He wants to do this right. Wants to make his daddy… his owner, proud. However, when Tony throws it, he doesn’t aim at his puppy at all. Peter tries to catch it anyways, stumbling forward. “Oops,” Tony says slowly, voice dripping with sarcasm. “-my bad.” If Peter could talk he’d make such a bratty comeback Tony would spank him so hard he’d see stars. But he can’t talk. Not today. He stares at the chicken, now on the floor. “Go on then, eat it.”

Peter cocks an eyebrow at Tony, deliberately picking it off the floor and lifting his hand to throw it back at the man standing in front of him. There’s no way he’s going to eat off the floor, no matter how clean. His heightened senses would pick up on all the things Peter does not want to taste. Tony interrupts it before he can actually throw it. “Ah-ah, behave.” For a split second, Peter debates whether he wants to cum tonight yes or no. It’s not a difficult decision though, so he huffs out a breath and shifts his aim, tossing it back on the counter instead of against Tony’s sweats. Tony fake-sighs and takes a plate from the countertop, quickly scooping up the stir-fry. “Such a picky little pup, aren’t you? I’ve been spoiling you too much.” Tony crouches down again, putting the plate in front of Peter. “Here you go.”

Peter can’t believe Tony’s still making him eat off the floor, but at least it’s on a plate now. He takes a deep breath as he inches closer - staring at the food. It’s his own fucking recipe. The burrito bowl he makes for Tony so often. Tony’s still improving a lot in his cooking, and this is one of the meals he’s actually mastered in the past couple months. Peter loves the food. Then why does this feel like such a big thing he’s about to do? It’s just food. That’s he’s gonna eat off the floor. With his mouth only. His face is burning with shame when he leans in, carefully trying to catch a little piece of broccoli between his teeth. “That’s it, Petey,” Tony coos from above him, now preparing a plate for himself as well. “You still hard, boy?” Peter looks down at his cock. He’s still hard, but not as rock-hard as he’d been before. Tony hums disapprovingly and leans forward. His hand finds Peter’s cock effortlessly. Peter whines at the sudden touch, a surge of pleasure cursing through him. His hips buck into Tony’s hand uncontrollably, couldn’t even hold still if he wanted to. Soon enough, his cock is slick with precum - his core muscles clenching and unclenching without pause. He wants to come so badly, yearns for Tony to just push his own pants down and take him from behind. However, Tony’s hand is gone as quickly as he started. “That’s better,” he grins staring at Peter’s raging boner. “Go on, eat.” The man sits down on the barstool, starting to eat his own meal making Peter whimper at the loss of pleasure. Though in a way, the denial only makes him more aroused. Eat. He has to eat. The sooner he finishes this, the sooner Tony will fuck him. He leans in towards the plate to pick another bite slowly, trying to dial down his nerves. He’s less hesitant at the second bite. With the third he actually tastes how well Tony did at cooking this time, he even added some extra spices to it. Peter’s proud. Soon enough, Peter’s simply eating. Enjoying it while Tony watches him proudly from the corner of his eyes.

“Stay.” Peter looks up at Tony as the man stalks off to their bedroom. Peter’s still tied to the oven, and the bedroom door sways shut so he can’t see what Tony’s up to. He hears Tony move around, moving things , but even Peter’s on-edge senses can’t tell exactly what’s going on in there. The fact that it’s the bedroom says enough though. Whatever the man is preparing, Peter aches to find out. The big grin on Tony’s face when he walks back into the room has Peter whine low in his throat. Tony’s not just… Taking care of him right now. He’s in full-on dom mode and Peter’s skin tingles with anticipation. “Hey, buddy.” Tony whispers. “I got a little surprise for you.” Tony unties the leash and pulls it taut, forcing Peter to get on all fours again. The crawl to the bedroom is torture. His knees are even more sore than they were before, his hole clenches around the plug as sparks of pleasure shoot through him at every little step. The occasional brushes of Tony’s hand petting his hair have him shiver all over. He wonders what Tony’s surprise is, he wonders-

His eyes open wide when he stares at the, well… mess on their bed. He gulps. It’s a collection of all the things he ever broke during sex. Sheets, cuffs, ropes… A big pile of shirts that he ripped off Tony’s body in his eagerness. And - Oh God - the coffee machine. Peter remembers that time very vividly. He’d knocked the thing off the countertop when Tony’s slammed into him harshly. It’d broken into three pieces. Those are now resting at the edge of the bed. Peter chuckles. There’s so much more. A cushion from the couch, a little button that somehow, got jarred from the elevator control panel when he’d tried to steady himself while sucking Tony off. Everything is on the bed. He looks up at Tony. “It turns me on,” the man whispers, “-knowing you lose yourself in pleasure.” He pats the bed, urging Peter to crawl on top which he does. “I intend to make you break many more things, sweet little pup. Why don’t we start with the leash, uh?” Tony smirks, tying Peter up to the bedpost at the feet end this time. Peter tugs on the taut leash experimentally and moans when it doesn’t give in. But of course, that’s without using his Spider strength.

“You like being tied down, boy?” Tony growls softly as he quickly tugs the shirt over his head. Peter’s jaw drops at the sight and he nods. He loves seeing Tony half-naked, the sweats hanging low on his hips. His strong chest, the arc reactor making it shine ever so bright. Tony licks his lips, seeing how Peter’s watching him. Peter knows he’s being a fucking tease on purpose but he doesn’t mind one single bit. He loves it when Tony hooks his fingers in the hem of the grey sweats, slowly, very slowly pushing them down, and- Peter moans when he sees how hard his daddy is. “That’s right. You’re so needy you start drooling at the sight, don’t you?” Peter has to squeeze his eyes shut when another wave of arousal hits him hard. Biting down his lips cutting off his words. Tony pushes his sweatpants and boxers down, stepping out of them and crawling onto the bed, kneeling behind Peter’s body. Peter takes a shaky breath. He can’t see Tony, but he can feel exactly where he is. His lower back arching unconsciously as a silent invite to please fuck me fuck me fuck me. “You’re so hard,” Tony coos. Peter sobs when he feels Tony’s fingers curl around the shaft, his hole clenching around the plug. “And I’m gonna pound you so good. You know why, buddy?” Peter shakes his head and has to bite back a high-pitched cry when suddenly Tony’s tongue is on his balls and suddenly everything just feels so good it’s disorienting. “Because you’re my bitch, Pete.”

Peter jolts at the words as they keep reverberating in his head. His fingers fist in the sheets - are those the ripped sheets? He has no clue. If Tony keeps going like this they sure will be. The man’s tongue is licking wet stripes all across the thin skin, and it’s exhilarating how fragile it makes him feel. Tony gently flicks his thumb at Peter’s tip a couple times, almost demanding Peter to cry out. Peter lets his head hang low breathing heavily, resting against the cotton fabric. He doesn’t know how long he can keep his composure like this. But who is he kidding. He already lost that from the moment Tony buckled the collar around his throat. “Such a gorgeous little puppy. You’re a whimpering mess, baby, wish you could hear yourself.” Peter’s cheeks flare up once more. “I don’t even have to prep you, just take the plug out and you’re all ready to go.” Tony’s hot lips move up, kissing the skin around the plug passionately. Without warning, Tony starts tugging on the plug gently. Peter grunts, the movement inside him not nearly enough and yet all he craves. The thicker part of the plug stretching the rim as it’s pulled out - making him sob when the empty feeling washes over him. He needs Tony. Inside of him. Hard. Fast. Rough.

Now.

“Petey, baby…” Tony groans. “My good boy. Always my good boy. Even when you’re a naughty little tease. Even when you tear everything apart as you come. You make me the happiest man on earth.” Before Peter has time to process the praise, Tony pushes inside of him. “ AH! ” Peter can’t help the surprised moan escaping his throat, his entire body is on fire. His skin tingling mad after having been denied for so damn long. Tony’s everywhere around him. His big hands gripping Peter’s thighs, nails digging into the skin harshly. Keeping him in place. His hot breath hits his back with each little huff. Tony’s cock presses so deep inside Peter feels the man’s balls against his ass. “Gonna have you make the sweetest sounds, hmm? You gonna show daddy how much you like it when he fucks you like this?” Tony slowly bottoms out, only to slam back in. Repeating the movement faster and faster and faster until Peter’s eyes roll back at the pleasure he’s filled with. Peter’s shot huffed-breaths mingle with his desperate moans, he can’t control himself. Can only surrender to the way Tony makes him feel. Submit.

“Peter,” Tony gasps, the broken voice making him feel floaty and hazy and good. He’s the one that makes Tony fucking lose it. The way it’s supposed to be. The man lets go of his hips, his pace slowing down for a moment. Peter feels how Tony reaches for something, stuffing it underneath them. “Lower your hips.” Peter complies, groaning when his dick touches something soft and fabric-y. What’s- “Gonna make you cum all over my ripped shirts, cucciolo ,” Tony grunts when he keeps pounding into him. “-make you ruin them even more. Knew you were a disastrous little pup from the moment I laid my eyes on you.” Peter can’t even hump the shirts. He just… Has to take what Tony’s giving him. The man’s force makes his cock drag along the torn fabric over and over again. The friction is dizzying, making him take a series of short little gasps. “You’re going to cum just like that, Pete? Humping my shirts without shame?” Tony’s voice is rough and low in his ears, the man hovering over him even more than before and the new angle actually making the man’s dick press into Peter’s G-spot with each thrust. His orgasm is building up so fast, his gut nearly aching after being teased for so long. “You destroyed all these things… Now, sweetness…” Tony’s fingers bruising his hips to hold on for leverage, pounding into Peter as fast as he can. “Ruin yourself.”

Peter’s back arches, his head thrown back as he comes, spilling himself all over the shirts and- there’s a loud ‘Crack!’ when the leash jars through the bedpost, breaking it. The force flings him backwards against the headboard. Another loud splintering sound when both Tony and Peter fly against the wood. Peter gasps loudly, startled by the sudden change of things but Tony laughs, cradling Peter close. The boy’s lying on top of Tony’s chest now, the man rolling them to the side. He doesn’t stop fucking him, though. No. The opposite. “Oh yes baby, fuck, you broke the bed. Holy shit- Peter!” Tony gruns, sucking sweet and passionate lovebites in Peter’s neck, “-fuck, yes, my sweet little bitch. You perfect thing. Oh God. ” Tony’s stammering, his hips rutting into Peter uncontrollably while he grabs and tugs on the leash to make Peter arch more. “Gonna need a bigger box now, don’t we?” Peter huffs out a surprised moan, nodding chuckling at Tony’s quick-witted answer to him breaking their damned bed. The thing is worth a fortune, and- Oh. That would make the man even hornier. Yes, yes yes. “I’m go- Oh, my sweet thing, yes, yes… ” Tony’s composure is completely gone, filthy moans leaving his mouth as his hips start to stutter. “Pete- Pete… Fuck, gonna f-fill you up like the bitch you are. Oh, fuck Pete!” Tony’s entire body surges forward, trembling as he comes inside of Peter. The boy can feel the other man’s cock twitch in his body. Feels how he’s filled up. Like a good little bitch - Peter’s mind provides helpfully, making him moan quietly. He loves the thought alone.

They’re both quiet for a moment as they catch their breaths. Both men come down from their highs after playing around the entire afternoon. At one point, Tony gently slips out of him, going to the bathroom to get a hot washcloth, gently cleaning Peter up. It’s nice. Being taken care of like that. And once both their cum is wiped off his body, he nuzzles into Tony’s embrace. “Hey, Petey,” the man whispers gently. Peter smiles up, eyes glimmering with happiness. “Hey,” he croaks. Tony kisses the top of his head. “How are you feeling?” Peter takes a little moment to tune in with his body before answering his boyfriend. “Sore, but so, so insanely good. Tony that was…” His voice trails off, he doesn’t even know a word to describe it. “So special. I loved it. I truly did.” “Pete…” “Thank you, for showing me. I know how hard it was for you, and… I just- I love you. So much. That was next-level, fuck.” Peter chuckles. “You had me in the headspace within minutes, like, you’re a perfect dom, Tony.” Tony actually blushes at that, a sight Peter barely ever sees. He hugs the boy closer into his chest, closing his eyes in the process. “You allowed me. Peter. I trust you, and you gave it a try even though you had no idea what it was. Fuck- You even came up with that collar… How’d you get that anyway?” Peter grins, chuckling slightly at Tony changing the subject but he rolls with it. “Oh-” he shrugs. “A certain black credit card allowed me to.” “What?” Tony scoffs. “You never buy things with my money!” “I did buy that!” “When?!” “A- A couple months ago! MJ helped me realize I… I like having something around my neck. That sounds bad, wait. I remembered that time you made me wear the bow tie, and well, she sent me some links to good online shops to buy this stuff and… Uh… Yeah?” He stammers, his cheeks flushed. Dammit, being a puppy is way easier.

Tony snorts when he suddenly realizes he could’ve known about this from the start. About two months ago, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had warned him about a ‘notable purchase’ from Peter. Tony, who’d been so excited about the boy finally spending some money decided not to dig into it. “Peter bought it?” “Yes, boss.” “Did it cost more than a 1000 dollars?” “No.” “Good, leave it then. I don’t want to know.” Peter eyes him self-consciously, so Tony pushes the thoughts out of his mind, caressing the kid’s cheeks with his thumbs. It’s quiet for a second and Tony wonders why Peter frowns. “What’s up?” “All this time, I… I thought you didn’t like it. I hoped you’d see the purchase and respond, but… Yeah.” “Oh, sweetness…” Tony’s lifts Peter’s chin up. Forcing him to stare into his eyes when he speaks. “I want to do everything with you, honeybunch .” “That, Mr. Stark, is going to take a lot of time,” Peter chuckles, his fingers softly caress Tony’s skin and the older man smiles down at him. “Oh, caro mio , we got all the time in the world.”

-FIN

---

Masterpost Other: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHOWERING THIS FIC WITH YOUR LOVE <3 We wrote a near 100K in less than a month, and the kudos and comments (AO3) and notes/reblogs (Tumblr) definitely helped keep us motivated!!! <3 You're all so amazing! And if you don't kudo or comment but did like this story, hi! Thank you for loving it too!

We're so sad that this fic has been finished, but figured this would be the perfect end. There will be spin-offs in this world which is now called the 'Ti Amo' series, so keep an eye out for more! Our first spin-off will be called Tempio Di Pietro <3 But there will be more!

Much love, Lien & Kim <3

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frustratedpotatowriter · 6 years ago

Text

Mad man 💟

SOUL EATER - STEIN FANFIC

Genre: Smut. Fanfic. 18+. Romance

WARNINGS: Smut. Sex. Oral. A bit of cursing.

Okay, I know, I promised a Todoroki Fanfic, but I just have to get this out of my system. I recently watched soul eater and this is the fruit of it. mehehe.

Sorry for unchanged pronouns/grammar errors.

Please Don't copy/Plagiarize. Lovelots.

ENJOY! 💟

Two years have already passed by since you became a mad man's weapon.

He would perform crazy experiments on you while you slept, waking up with scars all over your body.

At first, it was hard, no, hard was an understatement for you, but eventually, you got used to it.

He is weird, insane, and eccentric beyond belief, but he is talented, a genius, and he uses you so good.

After all, he is the greatest meister DWMA had produced.

You snapped back to reality when you heard the door open.

"Ah.Y/N. You're here." Stein has arrived.

"Would you like some tea?" you offered. He refused, shaking his head.

You didn't say anything more, and left him with his crazy experiments and his head screw.

You just can't understand what's going on inside his head.

Its been years since you became a deathscythe, you come to missions seldomly now though.

You just usually take care of stein. You rolled your eyes, Why do you have to take care of him anyways.

You sighed. Lord Death, said your soul's wavelength is calm, collected,positive, strong, and influential, that's why you need to be with stein.

He is a wild man and you are his tranquilizer.

You decided to go outside for a stroll and since you're already outside, you also bought some ingredients to cook for tonight's meal.

You went back to stein's apartment, the door ajar. You frowned.

You silently crept inside, you looked inside stein's office and saw him kissing another woman.

You were just there staring when Stein's eyes caught you.

You were taken aback by his stare, that you decided to ran off.

You ran and ran until you reached DWMA. You went straight to Lord Death's office.

You went in and he is there. Stein.

Your look of shock must've been amusing to him since he gave you a smirk.

How the fuck did he end up here first?

"Oh. Y/N. Do you need something?" Lord Death asked.

You looked into Stein's eyes.

"I-I didn't know you were talking. I'll come back later."

"No need. I was just leaving." Stein then walked towards you. When he walked passed you, he whispered something that sent shivers to your body.

"See you tonight. I'll be waiting."

You're gonna wait for nothing. Crazy bastard.

You did not react until he was out of sight.

"So-" You bowed and cut him off, the moment you stepped near him.

"Lord Death, I wanna be reassigned." you asked, straight to the point.

"Hmmm. is there a particular reason why you wanna leave Stein's side?" He asked.

"I-I'm going crazy when Im with him! I can't think straight! He just fills my head constantly with his annoying actions." You continued to rant as you clenched your chest." T-this tightens up when I'm with him. I can't stay with him. I'll go insane." You kneeled.

"P-please."

"Hmmm. Sounds like you have fallen for Stein, y/n." Your head shot up to look at Lord Death.

"I can't believe I'm actually giving advices like this now." He shrugged.

"I can't fall for someone like that." you whispered to yourself.

"You have to think this through, y/n. Do you really wanna leave stein?"

Lord Death said, you should go talk to stein first, if you really want to leave.

Well, Lord Death is right. You couldn't just leave without telling him.

You are on your way way back when you saw Maka carrying spirit back to his house.

"Idiot, papa. Why'd you get drunk like this?!" You shook your head, Spirit is really like a kid.

You helped her carry him back to his house. Maka thanked and asked you to eat dinner there, to which you obliged.

It's okay to not think about Stein for a few moments.

You went back on your way after eating. A few minutes later you arrived at Stein's place.

You sighed and came in.

He was still in his computer when you came in.

You called him out a few times but to no avail, you surrendered.

You'll talk to him later. You were about to go back inside your room when you heard the familiar wheels sound rolling towards you.

When you turned back you saw Stein on his chair, charging at you.

You quickly moved aside to evade him. and he fell down on the floor.

You immediately went to his side.

"You idiot. Are you alright?" You asked. He opened his eyes and stood up.

You stared at him, what a weirdo. You thought.

He suddenly gripped your wrist amd threw you on the bed.

He hovered over you, settling on your neck.

"You smell different. Were you with another man?" He asked sternly, his breath, hot, and the smell of cigarettes, evident..

You gulped, suppressing the excitement you feel.

You should be pissed not excited.

"Hmmm. so have you figure it out?" He asked.

"Figured what out?" You asked frowning.

"What you feel about me?" he smirked.

This bastard, that smile. He knows.

He knew all this time and he kept on playing with you.

You pushed him aside, and he laid down on the bed as you sat up.

"I'm done being your research subject. I already asked Lord Death to reassign me." He kept quiet.

Your brain, silently wishing he would stop you but he kept quiet. You waited for a few more seconds before standing up.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Please, leave before I finish." Still nothing.

You chose to ignore him as well amd went to bathe.

You finished and wrapped yourself with a towel.

You peaked outside and when you saw he's no longer on the bed, you went outside the bathroom.

You sighed as you sat down on the edge of your bed.

"Much better." You looked behind and saw stein standing beside the bed.

"What are you doing here, you crazy bastard?!"

"I waited on the floor for you to come out of shower.I don't like it when I smell other people on you." He confessed, in all honesty.

"You're the one to talk. You're the one kissing another woman!" You spat at him. He just chuckled.

"Jealous?"

You were about to protest once more when he pinned you down the bed again.

"Stein! What do you want from me?!"

"Everything." His statement made your stomach flutter and it didn't help that his hot breath, is leaving its traces on your neck.

You surrendered.

"How long have you known?" You asked.

"What?" He returned a question.

"The feelings I have for you." He looked into your eyes and you tried hard to return his gaze.

"From the start, I can see your soul, you know." He smirked.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you tried to push him away but you feel so weak in his grasp.

"Not gonna let you go this time." He uttered.

"We can't stay like this for the whole night." His smirk grew wider,

"I have so much planned to do to you, I wanna see how you would react to me. Let's start the experiment, shall we?"

You gulped. You wanna deny him, but your body isn't just yours anymore.

His lips claimed yours, and it did not take long before you returned the kiss.

His right hand raised, his forefinger now tracing your collarbones, travelling on you, his finger now, circling around your chest until he swiftly tugged your towel away.

In a second, all that you have is exposed to him, not that it's new to him.

"Hmmmm. You really look so good. "He purred in your ear as he end the kiss you two shared.

You bit your lip, anticipating his next moves.

His lips roamed to your neck, you drew a sharp breath when he licked you.

"S-stein."

"Mmhmm?" He's too busy nibbling your neck to form words.

His kisses started to travel down.

Your mouth fell open when you felt his wet tongue play with your nipples.

Damn! This man is good.

Your hands snaked around his neck. You hate to admit it but you would not like him to stop.

You squeezed him closer to you as he fondled you.

He looked up at you. "Hmmm. I want to hear more."

You released him from your embrace, he knelt in front of you, and opened your legs wide.

Your face flushed, a deep shade of red.

"S-stein. Wait! Ah!" It was too late to argue. He already indulged himself into eating you out.

"Ah!" Your moans were unstoppable as he expertly lapped your folds, his tongue coming in and out of you.

"I-I'm gonna cum!" Ah! " You were already so close when he stopped, you whined loudly.

You breathed out.

"W-why did you stop?" You asked, looking him in his eyes.

"Hmm? What's this? Are you loving what's happening?" You furrowed your brows.

You pulled him and used your strength to change your positions.

You pulled his collar.

"You started this Stein. You better finish it." You said before kissing him.

He responded back as he placed his hand on your head.

Your hands worked on removing his coat and shirt.

You were about to remove his pants when he switched you up again.

He, himself removed his pants and brief. His member sprang free.

He's big. You stared at him in the eyes with a challenging look.

"Are you ready." He stated.

He did not even wait for your response, before slamming himself in you.

You gave out a loud moan.

"Fuck! Ah!" You screamed. He's fucking you relentlessly, and it feels good.

You hear him groan and moan every now and then as his pace grew quick.

"It feels so good to be finally inside you."

"Y-you feel so great stein! Harder!" You demanded, he granted your wish as his cock taught you new sensations.

"M-more!!I want you stein!" You screamed when you felt your blissful release.

"Shh--it I'm gonna cum y/n!" He grunted as you felt hot liquid around your clenching walls.

He immediately pulled out when he's sure that every last drop of him is inside you.

He laid beside you, and lit up a cigarette.

"Do you still wanna leave?" He asked as he puffed smoke.

You smirked.

"Yeah, I'm gonna find a boyfriend that can do this to me every night." You laughed lightly.

"You already found one." You stopped and looked at him, casually puffing a cigarette, while laying his head on his other hand.

"Nah. I want a loyal one. I don't want my boyfriend kissing other girls." He looked at you.

He smiled.

"Hmmm.You're possessive. I like that." You shrugged. He placed his cigar on the table, and embrace you.

"Sorry to trigger you like that, but it will take two to three more years for you to realize, if I didn't do that"

You wanted to snap back at him but the tired feeling of your activities took over.

"Hmm..I have a crazy boyfriend." You snuggled close to him and drifted off.

#soul eater #soul eater stein #Soul eater smut #Soul eater stein smut #Stein smut

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somefinelipstickonthatpig · 5 years ago

Photo

rated: t

fandom: Tales of Symphonia

prompt: “Go Through Me” + Zelos/Colette/Lloyd

requested by: @greecllings

more modern-day!AU shenanigans because I got this idea in my head after a particularly great line in another, diff-fandom fanfic i was reading. now this is here.

i’m sorry.

thanks Josie for the request, though i’m 95% certain this scenario wasn’t what you had in mind when you first requested “get through me” with these three, so...sorry (again)

o - o - o

Schlemiel [Read on AO3]

o - o - o

Zelos frowns. “You’re sure he said to wait here?”

At Colette’s shrug, his frown deepens. Her thumbs fly across the screen of her cell. Zelos doesn’t know how she can see anything on that thing under the glaring light of the courtyard lamppost. “Yeah. Said he was on his way? He should be here in just a—”

“—hey, Colette!”

The voice that rings out is too loud for not being that far away.

Zelos turns and takes a good look at his theater classmate’s childhood friend. Colette talks about him a lot: the boisterous bundle of energy named Lloyd Irving who is apparently not her boyfriend. (Zelos is of the opinion that there’s a yet in those words somewhere.) Her stories she spins as they sit knee-to-knee doing warm-ups on stage are always wild, extremely silly, and very funny. To see the subject of those 4-wheeler wheelies and the self-proclaimed corn-husk king, who’s apparently a plain guy with spiky brown hair and a bright red university sweater, was almost a disappointment. Zelos had expected someone more…something.

“You must be Zelos,” Lloyd gives a breathless greeting and thrusts a hand out towards his chest. “Nice to meetcha.”

Zelos takes the proffered hand because he, unlike some of the people in front of him, was not raised in a barn. He makes a good show of flicking a long strand of red hair over his shoulder, sliding on a slow grin. “I see our sweet little Colette here has told you about me.”

Is that a smattering of pink dusting the guy’s cheeks? Geez, already? How are these two not dating yet if the mere mention of the other’s name makes them go all gooey-eyed and soft? “Yeah. I guess she has mentioned a thing or two about the funny redhead from her theater class before.”

Sharply, Zelos chokes. “Funny—?!”

Lloyd chuckles and is quick to release his hand and wrap it around one of his two ratty backpack straps. He swallows and looks over his shoulder. “Right. Well, uh, shall we head back?”

And then and all of a sudden, Colette’s head snaps up from her phone.

She stares at Lloyd with almost comically ginormous eyes. Zelos doesn’t get quite why until Colette waves for his attention and turns her phone screen to face him. Beaming in the night, surrounded by a green text message box from one heart-emoji-surrounded Lloyd (seriously?) are the white words: jhey, I think i mite be being follow.ed. just os you kno. sry.

Ah.

“Yes!” Colette says as soon as she pockets her phone. “C’mon! Yeah! Let’s, uh, let’s go to our dorms!”

The funny thing about being in a theater class with country bumpkin Colette Brunel is that the golden-headed tenderheart has the hardest time telling a convincing lie, so she’s actually very, very bad on stage—which is exactly why Zelos likes her. She is earnest and sincere and would never stab him in the back one day probably because she didn’t know which way to hold the damn knife.

Completely unlike him in every way.

Which is why when Colette says “our dorms,” Zelos immediately realizes two things: one, that Lloyd must not have the same scholarship he and Colette do because he isn’t bunking in Chosen Hall, and two, when Lloyd is asking if he can walk with them, it’s because he doesn’t feel safe heading back to his own dorms.

And all in the span of two seconds, Zelos knows what to do.

His grin widens.

“W-whoa, hey, what are you—”

“—shhh, play along,” Zelos purrs, arm snug around Lloyd’s waist as he flicks a glance over the guy’s shoulder. It was on his right Lloyd had looked earlier; there’s a figure leaning against a tree on their phone. Super casual, not anything unusual after nine on a college campus after night classes have just let out.

But Zelos remembers very well his own personal near-experiences.

With his arm around Lloyd, he turns him and guides him down the sidewalk towards his and Colette’s dorm. He sneaks another glance behind them in the form of a chaste kiss to Lloyd’s very, very red cheek.

After a beat, the stranger begins to follow.

Huh.

Colette is making strange, choked-off noises at his side and when he glances at her, he can see her face is as red as Lloyd’s sweater. Hell, she’s practically as red as Lloyd’s face. Zelos really is surrounded by the two most rural, suppressed idiots this side of the Tethe’alla-Sylverant continent divide, huh.

They aren’t even halfway to the dorms yet and the stranger tailing them still hasn’t taken a hint, so Zelos decides to do something fun.

“You trust me?” he whispers, leaning in close to Lloyd’s side. The guy’s been quiet as a mouse the entire walk, which is funny as hell because he’s known him for all of three minutes (if you don’t count Colette’s oddball stories) and he has a very good hunch his unusual silence is because he’s so far out of his element, he’s probably somewhere on Mars.

“N-no…?”

“Fair enough.”

Zelos spins him and pins him to the outer wall of the old university library. Colette squeaks. There’s an odd bump and arc to Lloyd’s figure with his backpack in the way. With one hand pressed to the brick at the level of Lloyd’s bewildered face and the other digging into the pocket of his white sweatpants, Zelos leans in.

“If you really want to ward ‘em off, you know what we should do.”

“Ex-fuckin’-scuse me?”

“Yes or no. Be quick.”

And then, Zelos has about two seconds to recognize the flash of determination set in Lloyd’s eyes for what it is before Lloyd clumsily grabs his face with both hands and pulls him in. At that moment, Zelos discovers another thing:

Lloyd’s never kissed before.

The guy’s real bad at it. Has no finesse whatsoever. Really messy with his lips and bumps his nose against Zelos’ as he tries to tilt his head at a better angle. Stinky breath; what, did he just stuff his mouth full of sour cream and onion chips during his late class or something? Disgusting. Salty. Actually, kinda addicting?

Weird.

Zelos tilts into it when Lloyd gives a tiny, hitched gasp. His nerves light up. Belatedly, he realizes that was his own fault—his fingers have curled into the skin of Lloyd’s hip, pushing up his sweatshirt until it bunches over the back of his hand.

When finally they break apart, breath hot against one another’s faces, Zelos turns his face to the side.

Whoever it was that was following Lloyd is gone.

Good. Didn’t want them to even reach our dorms, anyway.

“Zelos! Lloyd! Th-that was—”

Oh.

Zelos turns to his other side. He almost forgot Colette was there, but when he sees her, there are stars in her eyes. Like, near-legitimate stars. He’s never known blue could turn so cosmic at night, like spinning nebulas are spanning the length of her mind.

“What?” Zelos asks innocently, straightening up and pushing both hands in his sweatpants pockets, now. “You’ve seen me do that in class all the time, Colette.”

“Y-yeah, but—” Colette stutters and her face steams up again. She squeaks out, hands fisted in front of her collar, “—not with my best friend!”

Oh.

Yeah.

There was that.

“That was…” She tries again, but seems to be at a loss for words. When Colette looks to Lloyd, Lloyd looks back at her, dazed and still so, so red.

Actually, to hell with it. Red looks great on him.

“Well, it worked, so you’re welcome.” Zelos shrugs. “Successfully delivered the age-old, ‘you’ll have to go through me,’ and ‘this one’s taken,’ message across to that creep, for what it’s worth. They shouldn’t bother you again, but if they do…well, you know who to reach out to.”

“Thanks,” Lloyd murmurs.

Zelos takes a step back and bows extravagantly.

“We should, uh…” Lloyd looks around at this side of campus—probably unfamiliar to him—and scratches the back of his head. “We should keep going, right? Your guys’ dorm is further on. Colette, are you sure you’re fine if I…?”

“What? Yeah—yes. That’s fine! I still have your toothbrush from last time.”

Oh, to be young and in love and so dumb as to not even realize it.

“Do you, um—” Colette breaks off and if possible, her face is even redder. “Zelos, would you want to come with us?”

“Uh, I have to.” Zelos gives Colette a funny, patient look. “We’re in the same dorm hall, honey.”

“Oh—no—yes—of course—but I mean—”

And then it dawns on Zelos in that funny, crawling kind of way. Slowly, like the first rays of the sun as it peeks over the horizon. And then it warms him, starting from some point in the center of the top of his head and spreading down across his skin and low to his feet and he hedges out a laugh that’s as bewildered as it is—admittedly—just a bit flustered.

“You want me to crash your little slumber party?” he asks with a lifted brow. She can’t be serious.

Colette says, “You wouldn’t be crashing it!” at the same time as Lloyd finally catches on and bursts, “Hey, yeah! That’s a great idea! Colette’s got a corner room to herself and the bottom bunk’s a futon that can fold out and it’s really comfy. C’mon, Zelos. You’ll love it!”

Zelos has every idea that these two oblivious fools are going to be the death of him.

But then he finds himself somehow—incredibly—nodding—and he supposes he must be the biggest fool of all. Is he actually agreeing to this?

“Yay!” Colette cheers and claps her hands and Zelos supposes he is.

How did he get here?

#bad things happen bingo #bthb #symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #zelos wilder #fanfic: lloyd #fanfic: colette #fanfic: zelos #get through me #this is supposed to be angsty but uh #i guess the tone got away from me #threat of danger but zelos is here #and i love these three v much #mod krissey #mod krissey writes a thing

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grumpygayming · 8 years ago

Note

Do the odd questions for Aim and the evens for his twin whose name I forgot

Ok, for Aimilios & Amias

Aimilios

1. Do they prefer to wear headphones or earbuds when listening to music?

As a byproduct of being a dad…ear buds, that way he can share with Theo if need be or easily take them off when Theo needs him.

3. Do they usually eat mild, medium, or spicy salsa?

Spicy, always spicy unless he’s sharing with Theo in which case it’s mild because the last time he tried to give him spicy food Theo cried for an hour afterwards & Aim felt like the worst dad ever.

5. How do they react to finding out someone has a crush on them?

It doesn’t faze him all that much unless the feelings are mutual, in which case he becomes a nervous mess trying not to ruin things between him and the other person, However, they would never find out about it because over the years he’s gotten pretty good at putting his feelings aside and acting as casual & charming as possible around them. He calls it a byproduct of being a performer.

7. How would they fare in a zombie apocalypse?

Aimilios would kick ass in a Zombie apocalypse. He would be the leader of his own group (probably his dance students, boyfriend, & son) and he would most definitely survive and as long as everyone listened to him they would too.

9. How much ice do they put in their drinks?

The normal amount?

11. What’s their desktop background?

He & Theo dancing in his studio on his last birthday, where a few of his co-workers threw a party for him.

13. Did they have any phases? (e.g. emo, punk, scene…)

Is straight a phase? Cause, if so, yeah he went through attempting to be your average straight guy up until recently, he even joined baseball in high school to try & fit the mold.

15. Are they the big spoon or the little spoon?

Big spoon most of the time, but he does enjoy being held and being the little spoon at times. But it’s not the norm.

17. How do they like their toast?

Toasty.

19. What are they like as a neighbor?

Not gonna lie, Aim keeps some weird ass hours and if it’s near time for a performance he can be a pain in the as as a neighbor (if you live below him that is) because he’ll get up at three am to go over footwork, he stays quiet thought because he doesn’t want to wake Theo…so that’s a plus. But other than that he’s a great neighbor, he always has a stocked kitchen for Theo’s sake (trying to provide normalcy for his kid in a single parent household, blah, blah) so you can always ask him for a cup of sugar, or eggs, or whatever else. And he’s really friendly despite keeping to himself on account of being dead tired when he gets home after work.

21. What’s the weirdest thing you’re likely to find in their room?

His ballet barre

23. Do they like raisins in their pastries? If no, will it stop them from eating it?

He hates raisins baked into most things and generally he won’t eat it but there are exceptions to the rule. Very few but they exist.

25. Does your muse listen to vinyl records? Do they use iTunes? Do they legally or illegally download music?

iTunes or streaming services, he does own a few vinyl records of his father’s but other than that he doesn’t listen to them.

27. Is your muse a dreamer or a realist?

A little bit of both? When it comes to his personal happiness he’s definitely a dreamer but as far as how he can achieve things on the day to day he’s a realist.

29. What’s their Subway order?

He will get whatever sounds good at the time since he doesn’t go to Subway all that often and when he does he usually goes for Theo and doesn’t get much of anything for himself.

31. What about themselves do they usually not tell people? What are they embarrassed of?

His sexuality, even when it comes up, he’s still very used to being closeted (I mean after a 13 year relationship with a woman and being closeted for 30 years…you’d be iffy about talking to people about it too lol) and he doesn’t quite know how to approach the subject. Even now that he’s in a serious relationship he doesn’t announce to the world that he has a boyfriend because of the personal awkwardness surrounding his sexuality, he does however want to show off his boyfriend all the time so it’s difficult for him.

He’s embarrassed of….nothing really.

33. White, red, or rose wine?

Boxed? Not for the taste but he’s fond of the memories boxed wine brings, doesn’t matter the kind, just cheap, boxed wine. When he and his brother turned 21 they would drive out to their grandparent’s farm and drink boxed wine in the back of their pick up truck. As they got older and their cousins all turned 21 it became tradition to go to the farm every summer and drink their asses off together.

35. What’s their Starbucks order?

Venti caramel macchiato, double shot of espresso & a chocolate croissant for Theo.

37. Do they believe in any conspiracy theories? Fear a zombie apocalypse/AI overtake? How do they think the world will end?

He has no time for any of these, with how busy he is teaching, performing himself, & freelancing choreography on top of raising his son & making time for his boyfriend.

39. What would you see if you looked through their trashcan?

Sketches, notes from his ex aka the mother of his son, old pens, and wrappers for protein bars.

41. Are they an exhibitionist? Do they ever change in front of windows? Have sex when they know people can see/hear?

Hahhhh, he would never admit to it but he does like the thrill of other people being able to hear and see him, however, he’s a bit too shy to ever actively pursue having an audience (his brother however…..oh boy).

43. Why do people usually call them on the telephone? To complain? To ask for advice? To ask them to do something for them?

For work, generally for his professional expertise or to help solve problems. Other than that he usually gets calls from family just to catch up & check in on him.

45. Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter?

LOTR

47. How do they go about asking someone out or confessing their feelings about someone to them?

He’s pretty upfront, if he likes someone or wants to go out with them he’ll simply tell them or ask as long as he knows it won’t affect them negatively.

49. In the “sleep vs. grades vs. social life, pick two” situation, which two do they pick?

Social Life & Grades, he lived that life in high school & college and has gotten quite accustomed to running on minimal sleep.

Amias

2. What do they do when they’re feeling tired and need to stay awake?

Drink coffee….or he’ll just sleep and hope that he wakes up in time to finish whatever he needs to get done.

4. Pizza, McDonalds, or Chinese take-out?

Chinese.

6. How do they feel about unrequited love?

That it’s shitty but a part of life. There’s no point in harping over it because if you move on you’ll have another chance with someone whose actually meant for you later on.

8. Gold, silver, or copper jewelry?

Silver.

10. Do they use Instagram, Facebook, or Tumblr? If so, how much/often? Facebook almost daily, he’s the annoying guy that post pictures of his kids and leaves comments on all of his family members content.

12. How are they at taking care of plants?

Pretty decent, he and his brother used to garden with their mother all through out his life. He keeps a small window garden in is kitchen.

14. How did they do academically in high school?

Well enough to pass and graduate a semester early so he could tour with his band before they all went to college.

16. How do they like their eggs?

Scrambled.

18. Queso or guacamole?

Guacamole.

20. How do they behave when confronted with deadlines?

He finishes things before the deadline in order to have time to review before having to hand in/present the final product.

22. What fictional character do they relate to the most?

???

24. When forced to do a group project with other people, what role do they usually play?

Leader, he hates relying on other people.

26. How would your muse do at taking care of a goldfish?

If it’s easier than taking care of twin toddlers and a newborn baby then he’d be amazing.

28. Android, iPhone, or other?

iPhone

30. Trendsetter, trend follower, or trend ignorer?

Trend ignorer.

32. What’s their ideal vacation?

Before kids it was anywhere he and Bronte could spend days together where they barely left the bed. But now that they’ve got Charlie, Eli, and Jonah it would be anywhere that he can see the three of them bond and get the most of their time together…but of course with activities that keep them away for just long enough for he and Bronte to get up to their own fun.

34. Are they outdoorsy? Do they enjoy hiking, camping, etc.?

Very much so, he and his brother spent plenty of summers camping with their grandpa and on the family farm.

36. What colors make up most of their wardrobe?

Black, black, and more black.

38. Do they play video games? If so, which ones?

Anything he can get his hands on but he’s particularly fond of legend of zelda.

40. What kind of videos do they get recommended on YouTube?

Music videos, speed art, and art tutorials.

42. How do they feel about astrology?

Not too into it but he does read up on it out of boredom sometimes.

44. Have they ever had any pregnancy scares?

He’s a hoe, so yeah…a few with girls he was with but luckily they were only scares.

46. Do they meme? Enjoy memes? Create memes? Find them horribly annoying? How about shitposts?

Dank memes, shit posting, he’s into it. He might even be a meme economist.

48. When do they usually go to bed?

He’s the father of twins and a newborn….what is sleep to him?

50. What do they think is the meaning of life?

To experience as much as you can before death comes for you.

#char stuff #aimilios kraus #amias kaus #I'll add pictures later lol

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fromchaos · 8 years ago

Text

i like my body

read it on the ao3 at http://archiveofourown.org/works/7846558

(repost of an old fic just bc)

summary: adam has noticed for some time that while ronan seems to be getting more comfortable every day, he’s been feeling gradually stranger in his skin.

pynch, rated m, #everyoneistrans

title from the poem “i like my body” by e. e. cummings, which vaguely inspired this fic. in order to fully get into the mood, listen to the entirety of the front bottoms discography.

cw/tw for gender dysphoria, brief references to adam’s past, mentions of gender confirmation surgery, and non-graphic descriptions of sex. in addition, i’d just like to say that i am but one trans person and the experiences of these characters certainly don’t represent the experiences of all trans people. okay, enjoy!

the first time one of them leaves a mark, it’s almost completely an accident. ronan gets carried away lavishing attention at the meeting of adam’s neck and shoulder, and later there is a faint red splotch in that very spot. he doesn’t notice it until he’s brushing his teeth before he leaves for work. as he kisses ronan goodbye at the door, he comments on it as casually as possible, “nice leech action earlier.” adam swivels his head to the side, baring the little mark to ronan.

ronan looks embarrassed, which on him is really just one of many variations on “mad.” he won’t meet adam’s eyes when he snaps, “sorry, won’t happen again.”

and maybe adam should have expected he’d take it this way; physicality between the two of them has been a slow, rambling journey, ironically nowhere near as natural as it had felt with blue. they still haven’t done anything more than clumsily feel each other other up in the midst of a heavy makeout session. any verbal acknowledgment of it by either of them usually makes the other respond with teeth and claws bared, ready for a fight. “no, ronan,” adam says, trying for a tone that could be described as earnest, “really- nice.”

it’s still not enough, still awkward in the way words usually are between them. their flirtation had been about actions and spontaneous gestures for so long that it sometimes feels like things get lost in translation. when adam had asked gansey about it, his sage advice had been, “if you can’t talk about it, you shouldn’t be doing it.” and adam wants to be doing it, wants to be doing even more of it, so he bravely struggles through moments like this one.

ronan’s face breaks into something more open and unreadable, and he gives adam one more kiss before shoving him out the door. on opposite sides of the barn’s walls, they are both smiling.

from that point on, ronan and adam rarely appear in public without a few hickeys between the two of them. the others give them shit for it almost constantly, but adam just rolls his eyes because he doesn’t have words to describe how good it feels to have bruises that his friends can joke about, how it feels like he and ronan might belong to each other in a way that isn’t completely terrifying.

in january, ronan gets top surgery as a christmas present to himself. the surgeon is in dc, so he stays with the ganseys while gansey is up there for the winter break. adam asks if ronan wants him there, but he shakes his head and gives adam’s hand a squeeze where it’s held between them on the couch. he doesn’t explain too much, probably can’t, but adam figures he understands some of his reasoning. they’ve been working on it, but they still struggle with being vulnerable in front of each other, and adam feels uncomfortable with any behavior that could be described as “nurturing.” gansey had been taking care of ronan a lot longer, and he’d gotten his own top surgery more than a year before.

when he comes back to the barns nearly a week afterwards, adam is anxiously waiting at the kitchen table with opal, who is chomping on a fork and kicking her hooves. the pig pulls up, and he rushes to the door to see ronan slowly pushing himself out of the car while gansey carries his bag and fusses over him.

“remember, opal, no tackling.”

she snorts, clearly of the opinion that tackling should always be allowed. “how long?” she whines.

“two weeks. at least.” opal throws the fork angrily but comes to stand by the door regardless.

ronan grins when he comes in, even after gansey starts nagging him and overloading adam with care-giving instructions. he waits until opal has given ronan a surprisingly sweet hug to say his own hello. it’s just a light kiss, a whispered “welcome home,” in his ear, but when he pulls back, both ronan and gansey are looking at him with utter delight.

“stop making it weird,” he reprimands, leading the way into the living room so that no one can see the way his face has heated up. ronan takes the couch, lies down with his feet in the air so adam can slide under them, put his feet in his lap.

gansey settles in an armchair, says seriously, “i’m just so happy for you two. you know, this is exactly the sort of fluffy human interest story they put on local news networks, and it’s happening to you. that’s exciting!” ronan and adam sneak a look at each other that says exactly what they think of that, and adam has to hold back a laugh. a transgender fluff piece on local news would probably have a lot less dangerous magic, death, near-death experiences, and a lot more parents and heterosexuality.

“well, i’m just saying that i think it’s nice. things haven’t worked out half-bad is all,” gansey continues, “certainly not as terribly as they could have.”

“you’re right, gansey,” adam says, “we’re just being assholes.”

gansey stays for a while, until it’s obvious he’s just being polite by pretending he wouldn’t much rather be getting an enthusiastic welcome back from a certain tiny fashion disaster. “tell blue we say hi,” adam says as gansey is leaving.

“tell them to go to hell,” ronan adds with a small smile.

the last thing gansey says before he goes is, “i certainly will not.”

after adam makes a lazy dinner of instant mac and cheese and gets opal in bed, ronan gestures to him, says “c’mon.” he follows him up to the bathroom, where ronan starts unpacking the paper bag full of ointment and dressing gansey had left there earlier. he starts to roll up his t-shirt and stops halfway, admits, “my arms don’t really move that far yet.” adam tugs it the rest of the way up and off for him.

it’s not the first time he’s seen ronan shirtless, but it is the first time ronan doesn’t immediately curl up on himself or switch the focus to adam instead. his chest is still bandaged and a little swollen, but he looks good. the context isn’t quite right for adam to get worked up about it, but he admits to himself that his boyfriend is more than a little okay-looking. “you’re gonna have to get used to this glorious sight, parrish. soon i’m gonna be strutting all over the place half-naked. never wearing a shirt again,” ronan jokes when the silence stretches on a beat too long.

adam starts peeling away the first bandage, maybe a little too harsh at first. “it’s january. you’ll freeze your newly-placed nipples right off.”

ronan’s hands come up almost reflexively in a protective gesture. he huffs, “you’re just jealous.” it doesn’t really make sense, but the comeback sits with adam as he finishes cleaning the incisions and changing the bandages.

he isn’t jealous of ronan’s new chest per say, but he has noticed for some time that while ronan seems to be getting more comfortable every day, he’s been feeling gradually stranger in his skin.

over the past few months, he’s been more and more aware of his body with each passing day. maybe it started with cabeswater vanishing or with being in a relationship or the way his chest and shoulders seem to be broadening out. maybe he just has too much time to think about himself now that all of his spare time isn’t dedicated to hunting for glendower. whatever the cause, adam’s body feels at once the most his that it ever has and the most alien from himself that he can ever remember.

they sleep in the same bed that night, eager for more time together even if it’s spent unconscious. adam tries not to get too close to where ronan lies on his back, anxious about disrupting his healing, but he slides their hands together and holds on tight.

they get better at the physical stuff slowly and steadily, to the point where adam would even call it a major component of their relationship, but they stay firmly planted at second base for almost six months. there’s ronan’s weird catholic guilt, adam’s overtaxed schedule, and both of their individual body issues to contend with. adam can’t say he hasn’t thought about it- it’s actually become sort of an obsession. he’s lost precious sleep thinking about how it would happen: what actual acts would be performed, how it would feel, what ronan would look like in that final moment as he tipped over the edge. he’s a planner, and sex is no exception.

but the thing about ronan-the thing about adam with ronan-that he should have accounted for is the recklessness, the spontaneity. when it happens, it’s almost completely different than he had envisioned.

they’ve been having a lethargic day at the barns. no homework, no odd jobs around the farm, just catching up on sleep and heating up leftovers. there’s been a series of movies playing on the television in the living room, but adam has missed large chunks of every single one for trading lazy, sloppy kisses with ronan on the couch. opal had been sitting on the floor with declan’s old lincoln logs for the first movie, but had left shouting and making sounds of disgust once the kissing had started. it doesn’t feel like it’s building up to anything, going anywhere, until ronan comments, faux-casually, “we could be doing this upstairs.”

adam adopts the same tone when he adds, “in an actual bed.”

“with a door that locks,” ronan smirks, now that he’s sure they’re on the same page.

it takes them a while to actually get upstairs to ronan’s room, to remove clothing, to get into a workable position on the bed.

then ronan zeroes in on adam with laser focus, building him up first with his hand, then with his mouth. it’s good (really good), but there are still moments when he starts to get uncomfortable with the attention. he keeps turning his head to the pillow next to him, only to remind himself that ronan is on top of him, below him, not at his side. then ronan will pause and grin up at him, and his stomach settles, and he can just let himself feel good.

when he finishes, ronan crawls back up to his side and collapses, face down in his pillow. adam presses kisses onto his shoulder, his bicep, his shoulder blade- anywhere he can reach while his bones still feel like jelly. ronan turns his head, says, “i’m good.”

“i know. are you looking for a performance review or something?” adam teases between kisses.

ronan groans. “no, asshole. i mean- ugh.” he buries his face into the pillow again, speaks out of the side of his mouth, “you can return the favor tomorrow or next time or whatever. right now- i’m good.”

something about that doesn’t sit right with adam. it’s hard not to think of this as a one-sided exchange, a debt that hasn’t been properly paid, even if he knows rationally that it was a gift ronan gave without any expectation of reciprocation. as if he can hear the gears working in adam’s brain, ronan continues with difficulty, “look, it’s like- it’s- i- you.” he pauses, sighs, cracks a single eye to look at adam, “being with you, getting you off- that gets me off, okay? you make me feel like i’m getting off with the body i wish i had.”

he hadn’t thought of it that way. he isn’t sure he gets it, but adam never leaves something alone until he understands completely. “is that… enough?” “i mean, not always. i still fucking want you, okay? but tonight, just let me savor this shit.”

“okay.”

“okay,” ronan echoes. he wraps an arm around adam, pulls him closer until he can just flop on top of him the way he likes to when he’s on the brink of sleep. adam stays awake a little longer, puzzling out what it is about his body ronan finds so reassuring. in the morning, he does return the favor, and he tries to suppress the overwhelming feeling of smug satisfaction it brings him.

the gang almost always hangs out as a complete group, barring romantic endeavors. sometimes, though, ronan starts to get restless and awful, and gansey starts acting like he’s got a bee in his bonnet, and that’s usually when it’s decided he and gansey need some special friendship time. then things go back to normal again for a while. henry says it’s what adam and blue deserve for breaking up their boyfriends. they say it doesn’t matter why it works, just that it does.

while the two of them are off on their very special friend date, adam meets henry and blue for frozen yogurt at the usual place. at first it had felt wrong to go there without noah, to act like nothing had changed, but a new normal slowly asserted itself as time went on. also, there is only one frozen yogurt place in henrietta.

henry is trying to steal bites of blue’s fro-yo which usually would lead to blue wielding her spoon like a sword and henry getting injured. today, though, blue seems distracted, and ze has free access to her banana yogurt.

“i’m starting to suspect an ulterior motive for this trip,” he says once henry has eaten all of zir own fro-yo and about half of blue’s.

“huh? no!” she startles, then relaxes again, taps her plastic spoon on her lip contemplatively. “i guess i was just thinking about how it would feel to be the token cis person in the gang. it’s sort of weird, right? how all of us are this spectrum of trans identity and you’re…”

“boring cis adam?” he supplies. his stomach does a weird flip and he pushes what’s left of his fro-yo to henry.

“no!” she says again, “i mean, sort of. like, half of fox way is trans, and i didn’t really have friends at school, and now there’s all of us, and i guess what i’m saying is… i’ve never really had cis friends?”

“preach, bluester!” henry cries, drawing the attention of several other patrons at the fro-yo stand.

blue continues, “and i never really thought that a cis person could get it, could be so not-shitty about gender stuff. it sounds weird, but, like, what is that like?”

she’s looking at him so intensely, and now henry is paying full attention too, and adam feels sort of put on the spot. it had certainly occurred to him that maybe it wasn’t conventional for a friend group to be as diverse gender-wise as theirs was, but he’d always figured that was what had made them so intensely bonded. and he’d never really thought about what it meant to be cisgender. he stumbles looking for the right words. “thanks? i don’t know? i mean, what’s it like to be trans?”

“a-damn!” henry cries, “that is not the point of this very scientific inquiry. we are on a journey into the horrific and strange world of the cis mind!” blue nods absentmindedly, but turns back to adam with a strange, conflicted expression.

he shrugs, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. he wishes the conversation hadn’t taken this turn. he says, almost pleadingly, “i’m serious, guys. i’ve never really thought about it. i figured that’s what being cis meant: never having to think about it.”

blue’s face scrunches up further. she speaks like she’s choosing her words very carefully, “i don’t think that that’s the whole of it, though. like, yeah, i think about my gender a lot which is maybe part of having a more fluid identity than, say, gansey or ronan, but even when i’m not actively thinking about it, i feel it? i don’t really know how to describe it.”

this time, henry is the one nodding. ze says, “if i may, blue’s clues- for me, it’s a sort of like being hungry or being warm or some other bodily sense? sometimes i just feel off, maybe i’m crabby all day for some unknown reason, maybe i just feel uneasy, and i don’t really realize it. then it hits me later that it’s just time to try out some new pronouns because these don’t feel right anymore.”

“right!” blue chimes. “but, like, not always about pronouns. some days, i’m just, like, more aware of my gender and my dysphoria.”

“oh.” adam feels prickly, like his skin is stretched too tight, and then he flexes his fingers under the table, tries not to feel that way because that sounds sort of like- he stands, looks at his watch, realizes he’s not wearing a watch, says, “i should get going. i have a shift at the garage in an hour, and i wanted to pick up some stuff from st. agnes beforehand.” he’s sort of light-headed now that he’s standing.

“‘stuff?’” henry echoes, an eyebrow raised.

blue looks worried, but she puts on a big smile for adam as she goes to hug him goodbye. “i mean, if you have to. we’ll see you around. take care of yourself.”

he rushes back to his car and tries not to think about how blue and henry are totally talking about him right now. about how cis he is, how he couldn’t handle their conversation because he’s a hetero-cis-patriarch (hetero?), how stupid he is for never thinking about gender like they apparently spend all their time doing.

adam doesn’t even have work until that night, a graveyard shift at the factory, so he starts the car and speeds back to the barns instead. he really had meant to pick up some of his stuff from st. agnes since he has to be moved out by the end of june, but right now he’s craving the wide open grounds of the barns so badly that he allows himself this small moment of irresponsibility.

ronan finds him on the roof of one of the smaller buildings towards the edge of the property when he gets back from monmouth. adam had thought maybe he had heard a sound like wheels on gravel twenty minutes earlier, but he had been too stuck in his own head to do anything about it. he feels slow and sort of far away, like he’s scrying but in a closed, limited space.

“thinking about jumping?” ronan snarks, throwing himself down next to adam. when he only gives a noncommittal hum, ronan scootches closer and nuzzles his bristly head into adam’s neck. the sensation helps a little, so he brings up a hand to scratch at ronan’s scalp. “if you’re getting all emo over something, could you at least give me a hint what it is?”

adam chuckles before he can stop himself. “emo? it’s 2015, is emo still a thing?”

“punk might be dead, but emo is immortal, dude,” ronan claims, leaning into adam’s touch. his breath is humid on adam’s shoulder, but the day is mild. they sit and look at the grounds of the barns in silence. ronan doesn’t let it go. “seriously, what the fuck is up?”

he gives adam space to speak at his own pace, knows he doesn’t like speaking until the thought is complete. “do you think i’m a man?” he asks abruptly. “i mean, do you think i’m manly?” he can tell it’s not where ronan thought he was going with this conversation. he stills for a moment against adam’s shoulder before relaxing again.

“honestly?” adam nods. “i don’t get much of a vibe at all from you.”

“thanks.” his voice and his temperament make the words come out sour, but he hopes ronan knows he means it. adam has always been thankful for ronan’s brutal honesty at times when everyone else wants to coddle him.

he shrugs, slips down until his head in adam’s lap right as adam’s arm was getting tired. these little intuitive gestures are probably the most consistent part of their relationship. ronan reaches for his hand, kisses his fingers. “is that all?”

adam takes a shuddering breath. “would this all be over if i wasn’t a man?”

ronan doesn’t answer, just meets his eyes with a vicious intensity and keeps kissing his fingers, his palm. he feels like he might hyperventilate when he asks, “and what if i wanted to try ‘they’ pronouns?”

ronan takes a moment, and when he responds, every word is deliberately enunciated: “you don’t need my approval, adam. i’ll do whatever you want me to. shit, i thought that was pretty obvious.”

he knows that. he does, but he feels like he’s still practicing this whole business of agency, of declaring what he wants and expecting to be respected. adam says, “well, i do. want that.”

“as you fucking wish,” ronan whispers, leaning up to crush a searing kiss to their lips.

#ficflashbackfriday #pynch #adam parrish #ronan lynch #the raven cycle #mine

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