#i’m gonna figure out no heat styling and to enjoy my waves / curls if it kills me but i fuckin get younger graham sooooo bad

[lilgynt]

my hair is back to its original state enough so that i understand why younger me straightened every fuckin day just for any consistency

[honey-crypt]

KEEPER OF THE GLISTENING SEA — a merman!elliott x plus-sized!reader story

02. THE STORM RAGES ON

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of drowning, natural disasters, and fatphobia

summary: you manage to find your footing in stardew valley and form a new life full of mundane tasks and relationships, new and old. yet, a ferocious storm puts your skills to the test and you're confronted with your past, as a lone figure is trapped beneath the raging waves.

author’s note: now that my write a thon is over, i'm able to work more on this series! gonna try my best to post at least twice a month but schedule will vary because i start grad school and my assistantship very soon. anywhoooo! enjoy!!!

You developed a pretty simple but good daily routine. Maintain the lighthouse, assist Willy in his shop, visit Benny, hang out with your friends, and so on. The days began to blend together, as festivals and birthdays passed by, and soon the valley transitioned from breezy spring to warm summer. To your surprise, living on a beach and the summer season didn’t mesh well, as your once quiet home was overrun by Pelican Town residents looking to play in the water or soak in some sun.

You left the lighthouse after a particularly labor intensive day of work, stuck repainting the peeling paint of the lighthouse’s lower half by the shoreline with Willy. Who knew painting could stay some much out of a person? You had your suit vest tied around your plump waist, your button down open and revealing your tight tank top underneath, not wanting to stain it with white paint. Your arms and legs ached, an ache you hadn’t experienced before. Oh, I would kill for a Joja Cola, right now.

You only made a few feet from the lighthouse when something leathery made contact with your face. A cry of pain forced its way out of your throat, as the force sent you falling back into the hot sand. You laid in the sand motionlessly, limbs sprawled out unceremoniously. The projectile that almost knocked your teeth fell from your face and into the sand next to you.

“Oh my Yoba! I’m sorry!” a voice called out to you. Your vision was blurry, but you could hear someone running up to you. Hovering above you, a handsome shirtless man with choppy brown hair and strong eyebrows stared down at you, “Do you need help up?”

“Yes… yes, please,” you groaned. He extended a hand to you and you grabbed it, allowing him to free you from your sandy doom with a single pull. Shit! He’s strong! The man then picked up the projectile, a gridball, from the sand, “I’m sorry about that. My hand split when I was practicing with a friend.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you answered, rubbing your forehead where the gridball hit you. Suddenly, the gridball bro replaced your hand with his, gently examining your face for any injuries, “Probably gonna have a bruise, you should get checked out by the doc later,” he frowned, “I hope I didn’t give you a concussion,” frowning didn’t quite suit his face well.

“Do you always examine the faces of strangers you accidentally pelt with your gridball?” you jested. You couldn’t tell if the heat you were feeling was from the sun or from the situation. The shirtless man cracked a smile, an oddly familiar smile, “Only the cute ones.”

Before you could speak up, a genuine Barbie Doll appeared beside the flirt, her long honey blonde styled as beach curls and sporting a pink bikini, “Alex! You totally missed a great photo-op!”

“Alex?” you asked. Alex looked back at you, “Yeah?”

“Are you,” your mind was going a thousand miles an hour, “Are you George and Evelyn’s grandson?”

“Oh, yeah, I am,” he answered nonchalantly, “And you’re the new lighthouse keeper, right?”

“Yes!” you involuntarily shouted. The beach Barbie and Alex’s eyes widened at your volume, you quickly cleared your throat and explained, “Yeah, I’m the keeper, but Alex, it’s me. It’s (Y/N). We used to spend every summer together as kids, I’m Benny’s cousin.”

“(Y/N)?” Alex stepped closer to you, scrutinizing your face before a light went off above his head, “Oh my Yoba! Apple!”

“Apple?” the blondie spoke up, eyes darting between you and Alex. Your cheeks heated up at that old childhood nickname. Alex nodded, “Yeah, Haley! Apple was my nickname for (Y/N) when we were kids!”

“But why Apple?” the girl, Haley, emphasized.

“You don’t have to- oh, it’s a funny story!” the gridball player cut you off, “It was the first summer they and Benny came to the valley, I was one of the few kids in town so we played together a lot. We had a group dinner on the first night and my granny baked us some apple pies for dessert,” if you could physically shrink, you absolutely would be doing so at this moment.

“I remember that we had to wait for the pies to cool down but little (Y/N) had other plans,” continued Alex, “You must’ve been so hungry, Apple! There were three pies in total, but by the time my grandpop caught you, half of them had been eaten!”

Haley stifled back a snicker and you felt as if you could drown yourself in the sea at any moment now. Alex, oblivious to the impact of his words, swung an arm around your shoulders and tousled up your hair, “Well, that’s the story! And besides, Apple fits you, with your cheeks and all.” Yoba. Kill. Me. NOW!!!

“I think so, too!” cooed Haley, as she scanned you from head to toe, “You certainly are… nourished,” that last word stung like a wasp, “Maybe a wardrobe update and you can really shine.”

“I just got off work,” you stated. Were you being teased? Bullied? Humiliated? You weren’t sure, but you already expended a good chunk of your energy and Malibu Barbie’s undercut commentary wasn’t helping, “I should get going.”

Alex frowned almost puppy-like, “Aw bummer…” he gave you one last smile, “Lemme know if you wanna hang out in the future! You know where I’m at.”

You bid Alex and Haley farewell and made a swift retreat to your cabin. Slamming the door behind you, you let out an annoyed huff and plopped onto your bed, “Fucking Alex. Fucking Malibu Barbie,” you grumbled to yourself. You felt a buzz in your short pocket and shoved your hand in it to get your phone. Your screen lit up with a few notifications, the first being a text from Sam.

yo (y/n)!! you on for pool tonight? :D

You chuckled at his use of emojis and typed out a response.

yeah ofc, man - wouldn’t miss it for the world but we def gotta tag team to kick seb’s ass

A few seconds later, you received another text from Sam.

obviously ^o^ see you then!!

You smiled at your phone and swiped out of the messaging app. You were about to switch to your music app when it buzzed with another notification.

@sulsulbean on Handnotes tagged you in a photo

You opened your Handnotes app and clicked on the notification. It directed you to the account of your old swim team friend, Lena. The photo in question was an official group shot of your high school varsity swim team. You swiped to the other photo on her post, this one being a shot of you and Lena showing off your medals from a regional swim meet.

Missing my old swim buds!! Look at me and @applebottomfurs with our medals from our first meet <3

You tossed your phone on your nightstand without a second thought and combed your fingers through your sweaty hair. You didn’t need another reminder of the past.

The time until your pool session with the gang was rapidly dwindling, but you couldn’t find the energy to move. Sure, pool night at the saloon was sacred, missing out on it would be committing a friendship sin. Yet, the pain in your limbs were telling a different story. I need a nap. You closed your eyes, it would only be for a second, you just needed the rest.

Yet, out of the blue, you were startled awake by the sound of heavy rain pelting the walls of your cabin. Confused, you poked your head outside to see the state of the weather.

The sun vanished, the sky full of dark angry clouds, as a terrible downpour encased the valley in rain. You rushed over to the lighthouse, no Willy in sight. He told you that he could handle emergency situations like this, but he wasn’t here. You had to man the helm.

You stormed into the lighthouse and rushed up the wet stairs into the lantern room. The bright light illuminated over the Gem Sea, as it swayed side to side. You peered out into the cloudy waters and noticed the erratic tide and ebb of the sea, the waves crashing against the lighthouse’s base like a drum. Not wanting to remain in the lighthouse a moment longer than necessary, you got to work adjusting the light to account for the weather change. Your fingers tingled while you tinkered with the settings and machinery.

��Oh thank Yoba,” a sigh of relief escaped your lips once the light was properly set. Even though few boats passed through the area at this hour, you wanted to be safe in case there was someone out on the sea.

Red suddenly flashed across your vision, as a flash of lightning echoed throughout the valley. Despite the distance from the lantern room and the sea, you could make out something red. It was almost fish-like, red scales shining under the brief periods of illumination from the lightning and the lighthouse. The rain picked up in insanity and forced you to wipe the droplets off your eyes. Yet, that was when you saw it.

A hand, a human hand poking out from under the chaotic waves.

“FUCK!” you cried out. Someone was trapped, someone was drowning. Your adrenaline spiked and your body tensed up, as you proceeded to make a stupid but noble decision. You hastedly discarded your clothes, minus your undergarments, on the catwalk and climbed on top of the safety railing. Steadying your breath, you peered down at the roaring sea and jumped.

Your body collided with the chilly sea water and you struggled to keep your eyes open, burning from the saltwater. You didn’t know how much time you had, but you knew that you had to act fast. Forcing your way through the angry waves, you scanned the murky waters for any sign of life and there it was, the faint outline of a person just a few feet away. You swam towards the drowning victim, their body still clouded by the darkness. Nonetheless, you managed to swing the person onto your back and swam until you reached the top of the water.

As the storm raged on, you gasped for air, your body bobbing up and down in tangent with the waves. A frecious wave nearly knocked you down, but you let on to your drowning victim strong. With all your might, you swam and swam against the mighty storm until you finally reached the shoreline. You, rather ungraciously, threw your drowning victim off your back and onto the sand before performing mouth to mouth resuscitation. Their lips were pleasantly sweet, as you forced air down their lungs. A groan vibrated against your lips, your rescued victim happily alive.

You pulled off of their mouth and flopped onto the firm sand, disorientated and exhausted. It had been years since you last swam, yet your muscle memory and the adrenaline of the need to rescue kicked into high gear. Nonetheless, your muscles ache and your heart was pounding hard like a bass drum.

The person you rescued hovered over you, piercing your vision with hypnotic emerald eyes. You were able to get a closer look at their face, noting the freckles that spattered across their hooked nose and how chiseled their jawline was. Their hair was surprisingly dry, an autumn red. Yoba, they were beautiful.

“What a peculiar human,” their voice hummed, a soft baritone. Your eyes began to flutter, as exhaustion overwhelmed your mind, “Rest, little one, you deserve it,” you shut your eyes and succumbed to slumber.

The storm settled down, as the dark clouds parted and revealed a twinkling night sky. Elliott remained still on the beach, the waves crashing against the shoreline rhythmically. He watched over your sleeping form like a guardian angel, enraptured by your facial features and body. Elliott had never seen someone so beautiful, much less a human, up close. He laid his head against the sand and whispered, “What a peculiar human, indeed.”

[erwinsvow]

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬.

summary: your boyfriend, reiner, has always been possessive. you never minded it much, though.

warnings: college!au, rough sex, sir kink, grinding/teasing, doggy style, creampie, dacryphilia, reiner is a tease, angry reiner/upset with reader, jealousy, reiner treats you like a rag doll but who's complaining

the party’s in full swing, hoards of college kids hammered off of cheap beer and dancing to loud music. you sit on the edge of the couch, trying your best to avoid the couple going at it on the sofa seats next to you. you’d leave to give them some privacy, despite the fact that they’re in front of a hundred other people, but there’s nowhere else to sit.

and so, not ready to give up your chance to rest your sore feet, you sit there and wait patiently. your ankles are crossed as you finish off the last of your soda, looking around and realizing that you might be the only sober person here. you’re fiddling around now for no reason, with no one to speak to, adjusting the skirt of your dress and twirling a piece of your hair with your finger.

from across the room, with a red solo cup filled with the very same cheap beer in his hand, eren’s eyes land on you. a pretty girl, all alone at a party, with an empty drink. he was raised right, so knows that’s close to a crime.

at least that’s what he’s telling himself as he makes his way over to the couch in the corner, eyes burning holes through you as your eyes glance around the room, avoiding looking at the couple next to you.

eren turns to the couple first, one sharp glance making the boy alert, and pulling away from his girlfriend.

“hey, floch, go roofie your date somewhere else. i’m sitting here now,” he says firmly, causing floch and the girl to take off scrambling.

you glance up at the stranger who approached you with thankful eyes.

“you didn’t have to do that, but thank you anyways,” you say, finally sinking into the comfort of the couch.

“of course i did. that idiot would’ve given all these people here a show if someone didn’t stop him.”

you let out a laugh at his words, glancing back down at your shoes as you debate if it was a good idea to keep talking to him.

“i’m eren, by the way.”

“nice to meet you, eren,” you reply, once again gazing around the room and avoiding his eyes. eren waits another moment before speaking again.

“and you are-?” he questions, intrigued that you weren’t engaging in the conversation. he enjoys the chase, anyways.

“not interested,” you say with a gentle smile, trying not to seem rude despite the fact that you’re sure of eren’s intentions.

“oh, is that so? well, i think i can change that.”

“i’m sure you’ll try, but i don’t want you to waste your time. i’m sure there’s plenty of girls here who will talk to you willingly, so thank you for the seat but-”

“can i get you a drink?” he interjects, taking a long sip of his beer and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “beer? shots? i can go find some of the good stuff, if you want.”

“i’m okay, eren,” you say, a little annoyed and clearly a little anxious.

“oh, come on. it’s not right for a pretty girl to have an empty cup at a party. it’s like the first commandment.”

“i think that might be blasphemy.”

“oh, whatever, the second commandment, then. i mean, would you rather sit here and be all alone?” he questions, leaning back into the seat.

“who said she was here alone?” a deep voice says from around you. you look up to see your boyfriend, reiner, with two cups in his hand. he does not look happy.

“braun,” eren addresses, looking up at the blond from his seat and not adjusting his posture at all. you’d expected eren to at least be a little intimidated at the sight of your looming boyfriend, as most guys usually were, but he looks more amused than anything else. “who would’ve thought you’d go and get yourself such a pretty date,” he says with a smirk. his eyes are still on you though, raking up and down your figure and focusing on your exposed legs.

reiner puts down the two cups in his hand a little too hard, the liquid sloshing around at the top and landing on the surface on the small table in front of you.

you glance up a little hesitant at reiner, knowing the effect eren’s words are having on him.

“she’s not my date, she’s my girlfriend, asshole,” reiner replies, bringing his arm around your shoulder and holding you closely to him. you play right into it, leaning into him and smiling back cutely at eren.

“sorry, did i not mention that?” you say sweetly, as eren’s eyes react to the sight in front of him. he lets out a low whistle, standing up and lifting a cup from the table, taking a big sip. “well then, guess i underestimated you after all, braun. call me when you get bored of him, baby,” he says, before walking away.

you feel your mouth drop open at the audacity of his words, his implication. you know reiner won’t take it well either, feeling yourself grab for his hand before he can follow eren to pummel him.

“reiner, baby, don’t get mad, he’s just an asshole-” you begin, before reiner’s head turns back to look at you.

you saw a whole host of emotions in his eyes, which were usually calm and sweet and looking at you with all the love in the world. but now, in the dim lighting of the party, they were almost glowing with anger and rage, and something else you couldn’t figure out, something akin to a primal look that raised all the hairs on your neck and sent a shiver through your body.

you feel reiner’s hand tighten on yours, as he leads you away from the party and to an empty room somewhere down the hall. you’re not exactly sure where, since it’s your first time in this stranger’s house, but as reiner puts you on the bed and locks the door, you can hardly care.

he looms over you, caging you in and making you feel completely submissive as his strong arms hover near your head.

“you think it’s funny talking to yeager? letting him think you don’t belong to me?” reiner says in a deep, low voice that makes you press your thighs together tightly. it doesn’t take much, if anything, from reiner to turn you on. his possessiveness only adds fuel to fire for you, sometimes.

“no- no, reiner, i would never-” you start, shaking your head dumbly and stumbling around your words as reiner pulls off his shirt, revealing his toned chest. your hands have a mind of their own, moving to grab his shoulders as you normally do, but reiner’s quicker than you, taking your two hands and pinning them above your head roughly.

“you’re using the wrong name, baby. you’re just begging to get punished today, aren’t you, you little slut?” reiner says, eyes looking over your body intensely and making you squirm. you’re uncomfortable with his gaze because you know what he’s thinking.

“i’m sorry, sir,” you mewl back, trying to move your hands from the harsh position they’re in, but to no avail. reiner’s grip is air-tight.

“i can’t even say you’re a good girl tonight, baby, because you’re not. now i see why you chose such a slutty little dress to wear tonight. you just wanted attention, didn’t you?”

“no, no, sir, just you- i just want you-” you say back, desperate for any contact and bucking your hips up uselessly.

“i don’t think you deserve me since you’ve been such a slutty girl.” his words are harsh, making your eyes tear up despite how unbelievably wanton you feel underneath his body. your head feels almost dizzy, overcome with so many different emotions.

tears are always reiner’s breaking point. he can never deny you once he sees those pretty eyes of yours well up and become watery just from his words and touches. and despite how badly you need to be taught a lesson, he knows he’s gonna break soon.

“i-i’m so sorry, sir, please- please touch me, i’m begging sir, i’ll be a good girl, i promise- oh!” you’re cut off as reiner’s other hand cups your pussy, palm against your clit and making you grind your hips against his hand desperately. he tears your panties off quickly, discarding them in the stranger’s room without a thought.

“tell me how that feels baby,” reiner says, releasing his hand from holding your wrists to grope at your chest, pulling down the dress just enough to free your tits.

“so good, sir, oh-!” your words fall apart as he continues his motions. you’re so desperate for his touch, to be filled up by him, you’re not aware of how loud you’re being and you certainly don’t care. reiner holds down your hips and moves his hand roughly against your clit, as you feel your body tense up with a strong heat in your core.

“cum for me, baby,” you hear reiner say next to your ear, increasing his pace as you feel the heat in your stomach expand and fill your entire body, the waves of your orgasm washing over you as you scream out reiner’s name.

you’re panting out, tongue lolling out and limbs feeling like jelly despite how reiner’s not even remotely done with you. he flips you over quickly, putting your head down and ass up as he pushes up your dress to expose your gushing cunt to him.

you’re still trying to catch your breath when he pushes into your tight hole slowly, without any warning and causing you to scream out again.

“sir-!” you moan, feeling reiner slide in and out of your wetness at a bruising pace. you feel his balls slap against your pussy, adding to the intense stimulation you feel and curling your toes as he continues. “please- please! i-i, can’t-” you cry out, unsure of what you were pleading with him for.

“what do you need, baby? don’t you want my cock? you want me to stop?” he says, not easing up on his motions. he’s enjoying every minute of having you fucked stupid from his cock.

“no, no- don’t stop, no!” you moan. you let out a squeal every time reiner thrusts.

“such a good girl, takin’ me so well, baby,” reiner says, sending the praise straight to your head and making you feel dizzy as you feel his fingers on your clit.

“i love you, reiner, i love you-” you hiccup, gripping your hand tightly on his as he increases his pace and his fingers at the same time, sending you into your second orgasm. you’re almost screaming now, clenching down tightly on his cock and squirming within reiner’s tight grip as you feel the coil in your stomach snap and heat spread all through your body again.

reiner’s increased pace only lasts a little while longer, his hips stuttering and him cumming inside you with a loud moan. as you feel the hot ropes of cum settle inside your throbbing cunt, you pant and keep a tight grip on reiner as he pulls out and lays you on his chest carefully.

the sheets on the stranger’s bed are certainly ruined, and so is your make-up and hair. you can’t even imagine what you look like, or what your dress is covered in, but you don’t really care.

all you can think about is reiner’s hands wrapped around you and his lips on yours as he pulls you into a deep kiss.

“have you learned your lesson, baby?” reiner asks. you think back quickly on how reiner hadn’t even wanted to go to the party, but you had insisted, and how you had picked out the shortest dress you could find, and how you didn’t walk away from eren when you knew reiner was coming back.

“yes, sir.”

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

Hi!!! Love your writing style you're so cool! I was wondering if you'd be able to write a sickfic focusing on atsumu and osamu-specifically atsumu taking care of his little brother! And maaaybe if you wanted to add some angst before it got better 👀 anyways hope you have a wonderful dayyyyy 😊

Anonymous said:

Can I get an unexpected sick atsumu that is at home from school with his brother after sleeping in. Their mother had the day off and didn’t feel like going anywhere so she allowed them to stay home. Maybe in the middle of the afternoon Atsumu starts to feel strangely sick but he hoped it would pass if he took a nap. He slept on the top bunk while Osamu plays video games on the bottom when he sudden wakes up without warning and starts to projectile spew. Caretaker Mom (cause I need some sweet momma content) and Osamu being supportive and understanding.

The Biggest Idiot of All Idiots: a Miya twins sick fic

Characters: sick Atsumu, caretakers Osamu & Mama Miya (lol)

Word Count: 3,426 (!!!)

Warnings: swearing, heat exhaustion passing out, and Miya-family shenanigans

Part 2

————————————————————

Thank you for the requests and kind words!! I combined it with one from @super-secret-sick-fics

I changed a couple details, but tried to stay mostly true to what was asked for! I hope that’s okay :)

This is gonna be a two-parter bc it got to be way too long. I’m not sure when Part 2 will be up yet.

I didn’t edit this at all (I never do, honestly) and I know I’ll hate myself for that later. But alas, I have zero patience so here it is!

Enjoy :)

————————————————————

Atsumu was rudely awakened by something annoying and probably stupid pushing up on his back.

“Tsumu, get outta bed ya lazy asshole.”

Ah yes, the annoying and definitely stupid thing was his equally annoying and stupid brother shoving the bottom of his mattress up from the bottom bunk.

“Why?” he grumbled and flipped over onto his stomach. He buried his head into his pillow and sighed. There was a subtle ache nagging at him on the left side of his head and he wanted it to go away.

“Cause Ma took the day off to do yard work and chores with us. It’s ‘sposed to be hot today so we said we’d do the yard work first thing. Remember? Or are you really that stupid?”

Osamu’s face popped up over the railing of Atsumu’s bed. His brother’s normal deadpan stare was accented by a single eyebrow raise of expectation.

Atsumu narrowed his eyes at him for a brief moment before groaning. He sat up and the pain in his head spread to encompass the rest of his head. Immediately, he was cranky.

“Fine. Just get outta my face,” Atsumu all but spit. Osamu’s face scrunched up, but he jumped down to the floor.

“What’s crawled up yer ass so early?” He mumbled, pulling on some athletic shorts. Atsumu wanted to respond with something snarky, but the pain in his head muddled his thoughts and he couldn’t think of anything clever enough.

“Screw you,” he settled on and crawled to the ladder to get out of bed. The headache would most likely go away after he ate something, so there was no need to say anything about it and risk getting teased.

Osamu eyed him, a frown on his face for a second. Then he scoffed.

“Alright assface. I’ll be downstairs. Ma made breakfast.” With that, he left the room.

Atsumu took his time getting dressed and ready for the day. He was moving slower thanks to the ache in his skull. The dumb headache also made his body feel tired and achy so he didn’t really feel the need to push things and make it worse.

“Good mornin’, Sweetheart!” His mother greeted when he finally made it to the kitchen. She was at the stove, flipping some pancakes, her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a loose braid. She was already in work clothes. Atsumu had to admit that it was going to be nice to spend some time with his mom. Their father ran a small convenience store, so she had to work full time to help supplement that income. He was excited to spend time with either of his parents when he could, even if it was doing chores.

The twins had, of course, offered to get part time jobs. However, both of their parents shut down the idea quickly, telling them to focus on volleyball and “enjoying their youth.”

“Mornin’” he yawned and sat down across from Osamu at the table. He was already half way done eating and scrolled mindlessly through his phone. Atsumu tried to do the same, but the tiny words and the blue light from his phone only exacerbated his headache, so he sighed and gave up. Instead, he put his head down on his arms and waited for his mom to tell him to come get his food. After a minute, Osamu kicked his shin under the table.

“Oi, what’re ya doin’?” he asked roughly. Atsumu rolled his eyes and exhaled, annoyed.

“‘M tired. That alright with ya?” He glared at his brother. Osamu kept steady eye contact, rising to Atsumu’s challenge. The lights burned though, and Atsumu had to blink. He clicked his tongue and turned his head away.

“Yer bein’ weirder than normal,” Osamu said with his mouth full of pancake. Atsumu’s lip curled in disgust.

“Yer disgustin’.”

“Says the pig.”

“Listen—“

“Tsumu! Come get yer breakfast!” Miya-san interrupted. Osamu smirked at him, smug about getting the last word.

Atsumu sat down at the table with a single pancake, half a spoonful of scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice. His mother gave him an earful about not eating enough and he was sure that Samu would do the same.

Osamu eyed his plate and then eyed Atsumu and then his breakfast again. His twin pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything, shoving more food in his mouth.

While Atsumu was grateful that his brother didn’t comment on his smaller-than-usual meal, he was incredibly suspicious of the lack of insults.

The truth was, Atsumu’s stomach felt...wrong. He wasn’t sure what it was because he didn’t feel sick persay, but he didn’t feel good either. Starting off with a smaller meal and going back for seconds was more appealing to him than having a plate full of food that his brother and mom would force him to eat.

Atsumu ate his meal in silence and hoped that it would help his headache and the strange feeling in his stomach before he had to spend all afternoon doing yard work in the blazing summer heat.

***

Osamu watched his brother weeding the flower bed with a careful eye. Something was wrong. He knew it from the moment Atsumu woke up. His stupid brother wouldn’t tell him anything (if he even registered it himself, the idiot) so the only thing he could do was keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t start crying or dying.

They’d been outside for about an hour and a half now, weeding, mowing the lawn, planting new flowers, and whatever else their mom wanted and it was only getting hotter. The sun wasn’t even directly above them yet, but the heat surrounded them like a thick blanket. It felt like Osamu was moving through a pool of jell-o while he pushed the lawn mower forward.

Osamu was sweating and panting ever so slightly, but Atsumu looked like he just returned from a grueling volleyball game. He was dripping sweat and his shoulders moved visibly up and down with each breath he took. Osamu figured that his brother was probably dehydrated and too stupid to admit it or too stupid to realize it.

“Tsumu,” Osamu called. Atsumu pulled his head up from the weeds and squinted at his brother across the lawn. He was pale, and all of Osamu’s twinstincts told him Atsumu needed to go inside quickly.

“Wanna go get lunch?” He tried, because Atsumu was dumb and wouldn’t admit that something was wrong, so Osamu needed to find some excuse for them to go inside. There, his mother would realize that something was up and force his brother to rest and hydrate.

“We just ate not that long ago. You that hungry, ya pig?” Came the snappy comeback. It had less bite to it than usual. The lack of venom from this and the weak comebacks from this morning only solidified for Osamu that his brother was not alright. That, coupled with the sheer amount of sweat and his continued heavy breaths made it seem like the idiot was dying or something.

“Screw you,” Osamu sneered (because even if something was wrong with his stupid brother he was still an unbearable asshole). “It’s hot and I’m working up more of a sweat. So yeah, ‘m hungry.” Atsumu waved him off lethargically.

“Then you go in. I’m almost done here,” Atsumu all but wheezed and turned back to the flower bed. Osamu took a deep breath and tried to remember that he was attempting to be a good brother and good brothers don’t punch their dying brothers in the face.

“Just come in and get some water then,” Osamu offered, walking to stand behind his brother. Atsumu looked over his shoulder, his ugly face contorted into confusion.

“Why’re you being so nice?”

Osamu squeezed his fist by his side.

“If you get dehydrated, I’ll have to play setter tomorrow at mornin’ practice and I don’t wanna.”

Hopefully the threat of being replaced, even if temporarily, would get Atsumu to see some sense. The longer Osamu studied him the more (begrudging) concern he felt. Now that he was closer, he noticed a glaze over Atsumu’s eyes and a flush to his cheeks.

Osamu surmised from this that his stupid idiot brother caught a summer cold like a stupid idiot.

Atsumu hesitated, but eventually, nodded. He put his hands on his knees to push himself up. Osamu let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. One battle down. Next he’d have to convince him to rest up some.

His relief was short-lived. As soon as Atsumu stood up, his knees buckled underneath him and he fell back onto Osamu heavily. Startled, Osamu just barely managed to keep his balance and catch him, holding Atsumu under his arms.

“What the fu--” he started, ready to lay into Atsumu, only to be stopped by the vacant look in his brother’s eyes. It was different from the haze he noticed just a second ago. It was like Atsumu wasn’t seeing anything. His eyes stared off blankly at nothing, half-lidded and foggy. He was still panting, but it was shallower, if possible.

The next thing Osamu noticed was how cool Atsumu’s skin felt, despite the intense heat and the flush of his cheeks. Atsumu, the dumbass, was indeed not okay.

“Tsumu? Hey, can you hear me?” Osamu asked. Atsumu’s eyes slowly found Osamu’s, but it still didn’t look like he registered anything. The only response he got was a whine.

“Shit. Yer so freakin’ stupid, you dumbass,” Osamu muttered. Atsumu groaned. There was no way he could get Atsumu into the house without help. Thankfully, the flower bed was near the front door, so he wouldn’t have to take him far, but the door was shut in an attempt to keep the hot air outside, so he needed help.

“Ma!” Osamu yelled, “Ma! C’mere, quick! Tsumu’s sick!” Atsumu winced at his brother’s volume.

“Sorry, ‘Tsumu, I’m sorry. Fuck. I can’t believe you--” Osamu said frantically, despite himself. He really didn’t like his brother, but he still loved him and this was still very scary.

Their mom was at the door a second later, concern already painted on her face. Upon noticing her one son all but unconsciousness, leaning on her other son, the concern grew to panic and she was outside and beside them in no time flat.

“What in the hell happened?” she asked, brushing Atsumu’s hair back. Her eyes widened when she no doubt picked up on the abnormal cool temperature of his brother’s skin.

“He’s been actin’ weird all mornin’. Then he came out here in this heat and I just convinced him to go inside for some water when he passed out. He’s so freakin’ stupid.” Osamu explained.

“Of course, the stubborn idiot. Let’s get him inside and cool him off,” his mother said, still holding Tsumu’s face.

“Yeah. I can do it, I just need yer help with the door and getting him on my back,” Osamu replied. The longer they were in this heat the more dangerous it became so they needed to move as quickly as they could without making things worse.

Together, they managed to get Atsumu on Osamu’s back.

“Hold on, idiot,” Osamu commanded. Atsumu buried his face into his brother’s shoulders. He weakly grabbed onto his wrist to keep his arms wrapped around Osamu’s shoulder. Relief trickled in to meet Osamu’s panic when he realized that meant that Atsumu may be coming to just a little. Yeah

As soon as they were inside, their mom went to the kitchen to get some water and wet rags while Osamu took his imbecile brother to the couch. He laid him down, putting his feet up on the arm rest (all the boys on the volleyball team knew how to deal with heat exhaustion) and brought the fan closer. He sat on the floor beside Atsumu’s feet and waited for him to come back.

Miya-san came back a second later with a sports drink and several wash cloths. She placed one on Atsumu’s forehead and he sighed (Osamu was once again relieved that his brother seemed to be registering at least a little of his surroundings). The others she used to pat down his arms and legs.

The next few minutes were tense and silent as they waited for the idiot of the bunch to cool down and return to the land of the fully conscious.

“Sa-Samu?” Atsumu breathed. Osamu’s head whipped towards his brother. Atsumu was squeezing his eyes shut, a deep frown settled on his face.

“Tsumu, thank god,” Osamu exhaled heavily.

“Atsumu, baby, can you hear me? How’re ya feelin’?” Their mother asked gently, sweeping his hair back and sitting on the floor beside his head.

Atsumu’s eyes trailed lazily to meet their mother’s and he took a second longer than Osamu would have liked to respond.

“Head...head hurts,” he whined and closed his eyes again, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“Mhm, that’s to be expected when yer a dummy that got heat exhaustion. When yer ready, I need ya to sit up and drink something, okay?” She said, cupping his cheek. Her words, though seemingly harsh, were always soft. They never failed to comfort the twins whenever they were upset about something.

Atsumu visibly leaned into her touch.

“H-hot,” he murmured.

“No, shit, idiot,” Osamu responded. His mother shot him a glare. He rolled his eyes at her hypocrisy.

Another few minutes later, and they eased Atsumu into a sitting position and handed him the green sports drink (which Osamu found gross, but was his brother’s favorite). He took small sips and deep breaths.

“I’m goin’ to go get ya a little something to munch on, alright baby? Call me if ya need something,” Miya-san said. She kissed the top of his head and left the room.

Osamu watched his brother with a careful eye. He took in the flush of his cheeks, the paleness of the rest of his face, his shaking hand that rested subtly on his stomach. Sure, he just passed out and these things should be no surprise, but something deep in Osamu’s bones told him that Atsumu was hiding something; that something more was wrong.

“‘M gonna go help, Ma. Don’t do anything stupid.” Osamu stood and Atsumu nodded. The lack of a return insult, the lack of any verbal response at all from his obnoxious twin set all of Osamu’s nerves on edge.

“Ma,” he said as he entered the kitchen, “I think Tsumu is really sick.” He leaned against the counter where she was getting some crackers to put on a plate.

“He just passed out from heat exhaustion, Samu of course he’s sick.” She smiled at him softly.

“No, no. I mean… he’s been weird all mornin’ and I think somethins’ wrong,” Osamu pushed. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but his whole body told him that Atsumu was being a bigger idiot than either of them realized.

Miya-san glanced over at her son. Osamu tried to convey on his face how strongly he felt about this, how she needed to believe him. She studied him for a second before nodding and turning back to the plate.

“Okay. We’ll keep an eye on him, alright?” Osamu’s shoulders relaxed minutely.

In the living room, Atsumu was lying down again, his head pillowed against the arm rest and his legs curled into his stomach. He was still frowning.

“Tsumu, you should eat something,” Osamu tried. The frown on Atsumu’s face morphed into a grimace.

“Don’t wanna…” he replied, petulantly.

“Just a few crackers, please?” Miya-san asked, sitting by Atsumu’s feet. He looked between the two of them and sighed.

“Fine,” he relented. Too easily, for Osamu’s liking. On Osamu’s list of Things To Hate About Atsumu, stubbornness was easily in the top three.

Atsumu nibbled on a few crackers until their mother seemed satisfied and left the room. As soon as she did, Atsumu collapsed heavily back onto the couch.

Osamu paused for a second before he gave in to his baser instincts as a brother and twin and sat beside Atsumu on the couch. Almost immediately, Atsumu repositioned himself to lean on Osamu’s shoulder.

Osamu felt the tension ease out of his shoulders when his brother exhaled slowly and shakily, closing his eyes.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s really goin’ on? Or are you gonna continue to be stupid?” Osamu asked after a moment.

His ill twin tenses again and Osamu almost feels bad. Key word: almost.

(If Atsumu was going to continue being an asshole, he would not feel bad if this came and bit him in the ass.)

“...I don’t know. Just been feelin’ odd all day,” Atsumu relented and Osamu’s eyes disappeared behind his hairline.

“Must be feelin’ pretty bad if yer admittin’ it so easily,” Osamu teased. The guilt pooling in his stomach was not something he’d share with his brother easily. His pride wouldn’t let him.

That didn’t take away from the fact that it was there though. Of course it was. Osamu could tell something was off the second he looked at Atsumu’s face this morning, yet he let him go on and work in the scorching sun all morning.

“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, easing further into his brother’s side.

“Can ya tell me what’s wrong?” Osamu rested his head on Atsumu’s.

“Head hurts. Stomach’s been feelin’ weird,” Atsumu yawned. Osamu nodded.

“Wanna go take a shower and lay in bed?”

“Can’t move even if I wanted to.”

“I’ll help ya, stupid,” Osamu scoffed.

“Why’re you bein’ so nice?” Atsumu asked again. Osamu wouldn’t acknowledge the twinge in his chest that came when Atsumu didn’t believe that Osamu could be nice to him when he needed to be.

“No one else is gonna be,” he said instead.

“Ma’s here,” came the rebuttal.

“Let’s just go upstairs. You should get some rest so I don’t have to sub for ya at practice tomorrow.”

“Hate to admit it, Samu, but I don’t think I’ll make practice tomorrow,” Atsumu grumbled.

And well. Fuck. If Atsumu was already thinking that way, if he wasn’t fighting him about practice, wasn’t convinced he’d go tomorrow, then he must be really sick. The rock in Osamu’s stomach got a little heavier.

“Let’s go,” Osamu said. Atsumu nodded.

“Ma! I’m taking Tsumu upstairs to shower and get in bed!” Osamu called to their mom.

With that, Osamu eased his brother to stand, trying to ignore the way his face paled when he was upright, and slowly they made their way upstairs.

Osamu made Atsumu take a cold shower before he allowed him to settle into bed.

(Atsumu protested and whined the whole time. Osamu kept to himself that the argument that ensued made him feel a little better about Atsumu’s overall condition.)

Atsumu fell asleep almost instantly, curled into a ball around his pillow. Osamu gave him a sweatshirt and some athletic shorts to wear because he kept complaining about being cold. Convincing him that it was just because of the shower and that he’d warm up proved completely fruitless, so in the end Osamu relented.

Looking at his brother now, Osamu could tell that the worst was yet to come. Again, it was just a gut feeling. It set him on edge and kept his shoulders tight by his ears.

When Miya-san came to check on them, Osamu apologized, and though it meant showing his concern for his idiotic brother, asked her if he could skip their chores for the rest of the day and hang out in their room to keep an eye on Atsumu.

(Their mother was the one person they couldn’t lie to; she’d see past their proud facades and break them down with her eyes until they relented and told her what was really happening. Eventually, they stopped trying to lie to her.)

She agreed easily and told him she would run out to the store to prepare for the worst case scenario (see: Atsumu being a whiny little pissant). Osamu shouldn’t have been surprised that she believed him about his weird gut feeling. Thinking back on it, the two twins always knew when something was wrong with the other.

Miya-san left and Osamu took one last look at his brother sleeping on the top bunk before settling on the floor in front of his own bed. He grabbed an X-Box remote and turned on some game he’s played a thousand times, the volume low, and waited for the other shoe to drop.

[peanuts-and-pickles]

Caves and Dust

A/N: Thanks to @severyna-7 for this great request! I hope you like the fic. 

Pairing: Agatha x Tedros

Summery: When Sophie gets herself into trouble, its up to Agatha, Tedros, and The Coven to rescue her. Of course, things don’t go to plan. 

Warnings: Ummm Claustrophobia? Caves? Being trapped maybe? Some fluff at the end. Kissing.  Head wounds, I guess. Me trying to remember the difference between stalagmites and stalactites (Mites live on the ground, tites hang from above), possibly bad writing, depending on your style

Agatha lifted the lantern in her hand, illuminating the dark cave. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, dangling just above the group’s heads. Tedros came up beside her. 

“Why are we doing this again?” He asked, accidentally walking into a stalagmite. 

“Because Sophie’s in here somewhere, and we need to rescue her.” Agatha kicked a rock out of her way. 

“Does she really deserve rescuing?” Tedros complained, glaring at the stalagmite. 

“I agree with Pretty Boy.” Hester butted in. “We could just… let her figure it out herself. Might be easier.”  Anadil nodded next to her in agreement. 

“No. We need to help her. She would do the same for us.” Agatha glanced around nervously. The cave was dark, even with the low blue glow of the lantern. Sophie had left a note on Agatha’s dresser. She said she was going to the Arguian Caves to get a crystal that, once crushed, would supposedly “Do wonders for the skin” and “make it glow better than cucumbers”. Unfortunately, Sophie wasn’t privy to the rumors that circled this place. Rumors that would make any sane person turn back. Sophie had tried to hire someone to retrieve the crystal for her, but after everyone refused, she entered the cave on her own. 

“Sophie?” Agatha called. Her voice bounced off the walls, echoing into the deep cave. 

“Maybe we should go back,” Tedros said, taking a step closer to Agatha. 

“No.” But even Agatha was creeped out by this place. They just need to find Sophie, and then they could get out of here, she told herself. 

The cave split into two paths, one going left, and one right. Agatha turned to the group. 

Tedros saw the look on her face and shook his head. “Don’t say it.” 

“We need to split up.” Agatha confirmed. Silence. The coven exchanged glances. “We’ll go right.” Hester finally decided. 

Agatha nodded and turned to Tedros. “So we go left. Come on.” She grabbed his hand and led him down the left tunnel. She turned back, “Yell if you find her!” She called to the witches. Dot just waved her hand. 

“I don’t like this Agatha,” Tedros stared down the black mouth of the tunnel. “I just- get a bad feeling.” 

“We’ll be fine.” 

The pair started down the path, weaving around rocks and stalagmites and ducking under stalactites. 

Suddenly, the cave rumbled. Rocks and dust rained from the ceiling and a stalactite fell and almost impaled Tedros. Agatha yanked him out of the way just in time. Just as quickly as it started, the cave stood still again. “What was that?” Tedros yelled, pressing himself against the tunnel wall. 

“I'm sure it's just... a ground tremor or… something.” Agatha glanced around. 

“A ground tremor?” Tedros asked sarcastically. “Nope. Nope nope nope.” He shook his head vigorously. Agatha rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

They continued for what felt like an hour. They walked in silence, except when one of them called out to Sophie. The tunnel got  smaller and smaller. It seemed the walls were getting narrower and narrower, and the roof getting closer and closer to their heads.  It was becoming apparent that the cave wasn’t stable. Occasionally, small rocks would fall from the ceiling, or a rumble would shake the ground. Beside her, Tedros’s breathing was starting to get shaky. 

“Did I mention I'm claustrophobic?” He asked, taking a step closer to Agatha. 

She glanced up at him with concern. “Really? You never told me that.” She squeezed his hand gently. “Let's just go a little farther, and then we can turn back, ok?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“Can we just stop for a bit?” He asked. 

“Sure.” Tedros leaned against a wall, closing his eyes briefly. “Why did Sophie need  to come here?” He asked Agatha. She looked up. “Oh, something about a rare crystal that's good for your skin.” 

“Right. I'm going to kill her when we get out of here, you know.”  He grinned at Agatha. 

She smiled and crossed to him. She leaned in and kissed him, her lips softly pressing against his own. His hands landed on her waist, and he leaned into her kiss. One of Agatha’s hands tangled in Tedros’s golden hair, the other on his back. The kiss grew more heated, and he moved her back, pushing off the wall. He pressed her against a stalactite, his hand gripping the skin of her waist under her shirt. But the combined pressure of the two  of them leaning on the thin stalactite was too much for the cave. There was a crash, and then the stalactite snapped, and all hell broke loose. 

Rocks tumbled around them and Agatha screamed, leaping back. She slammed into a stalagmite and fell, hitting her forehead against the cool stone. She watched in horror as the cave collapsed, cutting her off from Tedros. She closed her eyes, and bit in another scream. She curled into herself and waited for it to be over, every nerve in her body aflame with fear. 

Eventually the rocks stopped tumbling and the cave stopped shaking. Agatha opened her eyes, and held in a sob. She got to her feet, and ran to the new wall of rocks between her and Tedros. She pressed her hands against and screamed his name. Silence on the other end. She pounded her fists against it and screamed in frustration. 

“A-agatha?” Tedros’s weak voice asked from the other side of the rock pile. 

“Tedros!” Agatha sobbed in relief. “Are you alright?” She asked, pressing closer to the rock pile. 

“I- I don’t like small spaces Agatha-” Tedros’s voice broke. 

“I know. I know. Its ok. We’re gonna be just fine.” Agatha tried to calm her voice for him. “We need to move these rocks. Ok?”

“I- I can’t breathe.” His voice was shaky. 

“Just take deep breaths, ok?” Agatha asked. If Tedros couldn’t help her, she didn’t know if she could get them out of this situation. 

“I- how do I help?” He asked after a bit of silence. 

Agatha smiled in relief. “Ok. Can you make your finger glow?” 

“Its already glowing.” Tedros answered hesitantly. 

Agatha looked down, hers was too. “Great. Ok. So when I count to three, we are gonna direct our finger blasts at the rock pile, and then run for cover, ok?”

“Yeah Yeah- I can do that.” 

“Ok.”  Agatha positioned herself, ready to run. “I love you,” She called.

“One, two, three!” She blasted the rocks with the strongest light she could conjure. A golden glow the same color erupted from the other side, from Tedros finger.  

Agatha ran and then dove, rolling behind a boulder, shielding her head. There was a crash, the sound of rocks tumbling down. The cave shook dangerously, but didn’t collapse, thank god. She peeked her head over the boulder to scan the damage. The pile of rocks had collapsed, leaving a huge plume of dust in its place. She ran towards it, calling out Tedros’s name.  She covered her mouth with her sleeve and coughed, waving the dust away from her face. There was a form lying limp behind a stalagmite, completely still. Agatha ran to him, crouching next to Tedros. His eyes were closed, his dusty eyelashes soft against his cheeks. A trickle of blood dripped down his face. Agatha tested his neck for a pulse. There was a moment of stillness, as if  Tedros’s fate was wobbling on the edge of a cliff. Then Agatha felt a heartbeat beneath her fingers, and his fate was restored. She cried out and hugged him tightly. She heard a wheeze and pulled back, to see Tedros' eyelashes flutter. He grinned at her sleepily, and horsley whispered “I love you too.”

When the witches heard the commotion from the other tunnel, they ran back to the junction. 

“Maybe they're dead,” Anadil muttered to Hester. 

“Maybe.” 

“Guys!” Dot pointed at two figures appearing out of the dust cloud. Agatha limped along, Tedros’s arm around her shoulder for support. The coven ran to them, and checked them for injuries. “Are you hurt?” Dot asked. “What happened?” Anadill butted in. “Did you find Sophie?” Hester said loudly.

“No, not badly at least, and the tunnel collapsed,” Agatha told Dot and Anadil. “And for her sake, I hope we never find Sophie,” Tedros growled. 

Suddenly there was a commotion coming from the main tunnel. 

“Agatha, Darling, there you are!” Sophie walked towards them briskly, grinning at her best friend. “Why are you covered in dust?” 

“Sophie!” Agatha cried in relief. “You're ok.” 

“Of course I'm ok, silly.  Why wouldn’t I be?” She wrinkled her nose at Tedros. “Teddy, you really ought to keep yourself cleaner,” She brushed some dust from his shoulder. 

“We thought you went into the tunnel and got yourself killed!” Agatha yelled. “Some of us were hoping for it,” Tedros snarled. “Oh, I went shopping first. I needed adventure gear!” She laughed lightly. “I'm just on my way in now. Did you happen to see any good crystals while you were in there?” 

The witches grabbed Sophie by each arm and started leading her out of the cave. “Remind me to never help you again,” Hester growled at her. 

“What- Wait! Aggie, help me!” Sophie shrieked as she was led away. 

Agatha turned to Tedros with concern. “Are you ok?” She asked softly. “Yeah.” Tedros smiled at her. “With you, always.”

Agatha snorted. “Its when you say stuff like that that makes me question whether or not I love you.” But she was blushing.

 “Come on,” Tedros said, starting towards the light at the end of the cave. “I need to get out of here, and I think we could both use a good bath.” 

                             .                                .                              .

Hope you enjoyed! I always love feedback. 

[mamabear-elinor]

The Forging of Bitter Bonds

III. A Shining Light September 07, 1992; September 14, 1992

[cw for a small instance of ~~casual racism]

The first day of the semester at the University of Edinburgh was insignificant to most. The weather was average; overcast and cool, the wind sweeping in off the ocean and chilling the bone if one was not careful. Elinor found it invigorating as she walked over the uneven cobblestones through the stone corridor that led out onto the street in Old Town. She checked the map that the student’s union had passed out at orientation and then crossed the street and into the warm little pub. 

“Ellie!” A pretty, redheaded girl stood up in her seat and waved rambunctiously, garnering the attention of a few other patrons of the quaint pub. 

Quickly, Elinor headed toward the table and slipped into the seat across from her. “Goldie, crivvens, you’re going to get us kicked out.” 

“Oh, psh. It’s fine. I already made friends with ol’ Tommy.” She wiggled the whiskey in her hand. 

“You’re underage,” Elinor pointed out, torn between disapproving and impressed.

“That’s such a nice name, don’t you think?” Marigold DunBroch ignored her. 

Elinor turned and looked over her shoulder at the bartender, who was nothing to look at. Old and balding, with a red nose and a missing front tooth. “No,” she replied primly after her assessment.

Marigold made a face but just sat back in her seat. “How was it then? I don’t have class until tomorrow, thank God.” 

Finally, Elinor smiled. “Wonderful! My professor for Art History 101 is a woman, Professor Howell. She’s amazing. I want to be just like her.” 

“You got all that from one class?” Marigold curled her fingers in a wave at a strapping young lad a few tables away, not looking in her friend’s direction. 

“Have you ever heard of Artemisia?” 

“Bless you.”

“Hilarious. Listen.” Elinor tugged her friend’s arm. “She was this woman painter in the seventeenth century. She was the first woman to be a member of the Accademia di Arte del Disegno. I didn’t even know women were painters then! It’s only my first day and I’ve already learned so much. Oh, there was another one. I can’t remember her name, shoot.” 

Elinor dove for her notebook in her satchel, which was made from fine leather. Her father had given it to her as a gift. She pulled out her notebook and sat back up. 

There was a girl standing in front of their table. 

“Oh, hello,” Elinor said with a tight smile, her brow furrowed slightly. “Can I help you?” 

Marigold had turned her focus on the newcomer as well. 

“You’re in Professor Howell’s class.” Her accent was Scottish, but there was something strange about it. Elinor could not place it.  

“Yes?” Elinor had a feeling it was not a question. 

“Me too,” the girl smiled. “I’m Sorcha. Can I sit with you? All the other tables are full and it’s started raining.” 

Elinor glanced over her shoulder to the rain, then over at Marigold, who shrugged a little and moved her stuff over to make room. “Yeah, sure, sit. Please.”

“Fabulous.” Sorcha did not need telling twice. She plopped down in the spare seat as soon as the table was clear. Her gold jewelry glinted in the low light, almost too bright for the dim pub. There were raindrops in the tight curls of her black hair. They caught the light too, twinkling like stars. She reached up and shook out her hair. A few droplets fell onto the table. “Sorry. I forgot my scarf at home today. It wasn’t supposed to rain.”

“That--that’s alright,” Elinor said after a moment. 

Sorcha smiled at her. “You’re sweet. I didn’t get your names--?” 

“I’m Marigold DunBroch.” Marigold held out her hand. “And that’s Elinor Briar. We call her Ellie, though.” 

“No, no we don’t,” Elinor corrected, feeling the tips of her ears heat slightly. 

“No worries,” Sorcha said, leaning back in her chair and spreading her legs so that one of her knees bumped the table, making Elinor jump slightly. Her posture was horrid. It was alarming. “I like Elinor better. It’s pretty. Do you know what it means?” 

Elinor furrowed her brow, her eyes jumping up from Sorcha’s thigh which was encroaching into her space. “What? No, uh--I think it was my grandmother’s name or...something like that.” 

“Shame. You know, a name can tell a lot about a person.” 

“How’s that?” This was Marigold, her eyes sparking bright as she leaned forward slightly.

“Well, you were named after your grandmother or something?” Sorcha was still looking at Elinor, her dark eyes assessing. 

Elinor couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “Do Marigold,” she mumbled, but cleared her throat and laughed once. 

“Yes, tell me about my name.” 

“Alright.” Sorcha’s eyes lingered for another moment on Elinor and then turned to Marigold, who was sitting primly, shoulders back, and wide, dazzling smile. Ever since they had been young, Marigold commanded every conversation her and Elinor were in. They did not see each other often, but if anyone asked, Marigold DunBroch was Elinor’s best friend in the whole world. 

“Well, from what I know marigolds are used for Día de los muertos.” 

“What’s that?” Marigold asked, grinning like a loon now at the attention being lavished on her.

Outside, thunder rumbled and the rain began to come down more steadily against the window pane. Elinor realized she was still clutching her notebook. She wondered, if she just took a peak, if she would be able to remember the name of the artist they’d learned about in class. Maybe the artist had a name that meant something important. 

“It translates to the Day of the Dead. A day when the veil between worlds is thinnest and the deceased walk amongst the living.” 

Elinor shivered as if one of the cool raindrops from the windowpane had slipped down her spine. 

Marigold deflated slightly, her blue eyes a bit more cautious. “Oh. Well! Do Elinor’s. I bet it means something lame like--dark-haired. Her parents are so unoriginal.”

“I--don’t know, actually,” Sorcha admitted with a little shrug, but when she looked at Elinor again, she had the sense that Sorcha knew more than she was letting on. “At least you have a family name. That’s nice. To have a legacy like that.” 

“Yes, I suppose.” Elinor took a sip of her water. 

A legacy. That was certainly something her family had given her. Or, more accurately, placed on her shoulders without her consent. She felt it heavy now, her first day of classes behind her and now a countdown until her new first day of classes. Elinor had yet to tell Marigold that she would be transferring to Oxford. In fact, she had yet to tell her that she was no longer seeing Francis Smith. She didn’t want to think about any of that. She wanted to enjoy her semester. To learn what she could. The comment had brought her back down again, though, as she was reminded that this was not permanent. Professor Howell would not be her teacher next year. Nor even next semester. She couldn’t write her thesis with the woman. It was silly of Elinor to have even been thinking of it. 

“What does your name mean then, Sorcha?” Marigold asked, not sensing her friend’s withdrawal. She put an elbow on the table (unladylike.) 

“It means brightness,” Sorcha said and those dark eyes of hers sparked, her white teeth stark against the dark lipstick and her dark skin.

“I have an Aunt Sorcha and she is not bright at all.” Marigold laughed loud enough that she snorted. 

“I think you’re very bright,” Elinor blurted without thinking and then felt her ears burn.

The look that Sorcha fixed her with made Elinor’s stomach churn. She felt as if somehow Sorcha had looked right through her. Or, perhaps, more accurately, directly into her, like she could see Elinor’s soul. This time, though, Elinor couldn’t look away. Their eyes locked. 

Then, Sorcha’s face broke out into another grin. “Aw, thanks, sweetie pie,” she said, reaching out to squeeze Elinor’s forearm. Her nails were long and bright red. (Garish, Elinor’s mother said in her head. Only women of certain proclivities paint their nails bright like that, pale colours only or don’t paint your nails at all.) “You’re not so bad yourself.” She winked.

“Oh, uh--I just meant--”

“I know what you meant.” Sorcha patted her arm. “Now, what’s in that notebook? I saw you pulling it out when I came over.”

“I was just--we can talk about something else.”

“Well, how am I gonna say if I wanna talk about it or something else unless you tell me what it is?”

“It was just some artist she was trying to remember,” Marigold waved. “I’d much rather know more about you, Sorcha. Where are you from?” 

“Spain,” Sorcha replied offhand. She was still looking at Elinor. “What is the work from the artist? Was it one of the ones we were shown in class?”

“Spain? But you sound like a Scot!” Marigold said, looking like a dog with a bone. She was even more curious now.

“That’s because I grew up here. Now, what artist is it?” 

“It’s really--I can’t remember at this point,” Elinor said, leaning over to slide her notebook back into her bag. “It’s not important.” 

“You’ll just have to tell me next class. Looks like the rain has cleared, so I’m going to head out.” She stood up, the chair scraping behind her. 

Elinor blinked rapidly. “Oh, well. It was nice to meet you.” 

“You too.” She gave a little salute and then sauntered off.

“That was...odd,” Elinor commented, shifting in her seat slightly, crossing her ankles. 

“I liked her,” Marigold replied with a grin. 

→ → → 

The next week, after classes, as Elinor headed back out into the misty evening. Someone called her name.

“Elinor!” 

Turning, she saw Sorcha waving at her, then jogging down the steps to meet her. She had a bright yellow scarf tied around her thick hair this time. 

“Did you remember the artist?” 

“Oh, uhm, yes,” Elinor said as she began walking back toward her dorm. “It was Leonora Carrington.” It was a good thing the wind was brisk, for it hid the warmth of her cheeks. 

“You would totally like Carrington,” Sorcha agreed with a sage nod of her head.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I just figured she’d be your style.” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know. Just a hunch.” 

They walked silently for a few steps. Elinor had assumed that Sorcha would peel off again, but instead she stayed right next to Elinor, her wide hips occasionally bumping Elinor’s own. 

“I looked up what my name means,” Elinor admitted after a few more moments. 

The smile Sorcha gave her made Elinor think that she had somehow known this too. “And?” Sorcha prompted. 

“Light of God, I suppose. There were a few other meanings but--”

“That was the one that stood out to you?” 

“No, I mean...that is probably what my parents intended anyhow.” 

“Who cares what they think? That’s not what I asked.” 

Elinor, if she was not so well-schooled in walking gracefully, might have tripped over a cobblestone. She clutched her books tight to her chest. Who cares what they think? What an absurd thing to say. 

“Well--it also means shining light or...the bright one.” Elinor’s heart felt like it was beating extremely fast for a casual, brisk autumn stroll across campus.

“We match!” Sorcha sounded extraordinarily pleased with herself. “That’s brilliant. Would you like to join my study group?” 

“Oh, I--” Elinor had a feeling saying no would be rude. She didn’t want to say no. Or...did she? There was a part of her that did. She was only going to be here for one semester. Gone before the snow melted and the spring bloomed again. Making friends had never been a priority for her anyway. She wanted to do well in school, so that her parents would give her freedom. If she failed, they would drag her back to the castle kicking and screaming. 

Education for women was a privilege, after all. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

“Very well,” Elinor agreed stiffly. 

“Perfect, we meet in classroom 124B on Wednesdays from 6pm to 7pm. I will see you there!” Abruptly, Sorcha turned on her heel and struck off straight across the quad. As she went, she removed the scarf from her head, allowing her hair to spring free, even though the rain had just begun in earnest. 

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Because Its The Truth

Its the day of the party and Clark makes himself clear.

Masterlist

Warnings: mild/implied Smut, Swearing ,Bit of Angst

A/n:so this is the next part of my Clark kent X reader series the next one is going to be smutty but until then here you go guys I hope you all enjoy xx

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​

Because Its The Truth

You whined sprawled out across the sofa below Clark, his hips snug against your own as he wriggled his way between your thighs, a spot that he had become accustom to the past week slipping himself here when ever he got the chance, he tugged your thighs high on his hips rocking lightly making sure your core was pressed down firmly on the under side of his cock pinning it back to his pelvis then he pivoted his hips rubbing back and forth as he leaned forward dotting kisses on the dark marks he had left across your neck you counted as he did. Five. Five fucking love bites all in various shades of blue and violet you sighed already knowing he was reiterating his claim giving small nips and sucks on the ones he deemed to subtle you pouted at him slapping his back tilting and wriggling trying to get away you stopped moving grunting a Little as his thick throbbing cock pressed tight against your quivering hole, he pressed harder grinding moaning feeling the heat warm the underneath of him you felt like you were melting onto him. He smiled leaning forward again to bite at you lightly, you laughed still batting him away.

"Nooo Clark don't I've got to cover them soon!" He laughed pinning your hands down the gave one final deep suck making you hiss at the slight pain.

"Cover them? Why maybe I wanted people to see." You glared at him

"No not this many I'm gonna look like a slag" he tilted his head blinking he didn't understand you sighed bloody American

"A whore Clark an easy lay" he gave a little ah then shook his head"They wont think that, they will think your loved, irresistible" he growled diving in again you giggled squealing

"No nono! Clark you big lump stop!" He stopped pulling away smirking as you shook your head at him he moved in fast capturing your lips releasing your hands as you tilted your had back as he kissed you deep and slow still rocking against you making you clench and shiver you pulled back moaning for him trying to grind faster on him.

"Fuck Cl-Clark! Please don't stop! Ah!" He chuckled

"Besides how can you be an easy lay if I haven't fucked you yet?" You groaned as he slowed his hips pressing hard letting you feel how hard he was, moving his hands to your waist pulling up the t shirt you wore tugging it over your head as you undid the buttons on his shirt dragging it across his shoulders you bit your lip as he leaned back letting you have your fill of him, you trembled eyes wandering across him, his pale skin stretched across bulging muscles you couldn't believe the first time you laid eyes on him, it was absolute perfection a Greek god come to life, you swallowed as he pulled himself back on top of you letting his weight hold you down as he wound a hand behind you unhooking your bra then slid it off quickly, you flushed covering yourself only earning you a soft look as he moved forward kissing you again lightly then he ran his hands under your bust warming your ribs with his palms then delicately cupped the underside of your boobs smoothing the pads of his fingers across them lightly, you could feel your nipples harden beneath your on palms gently he coaxed them away groaning as he finally thumbed the hard peaks, you panted squirming as he moved on to pinching them, then pressed your hands away fully moving down to kiss them lapping at them suckling, you arched into his mouth as one hand trailed down slipping below the waist band of your leggings smoothing his hand flat cupping your mound rubbing back and forth digging one finger just past your lips wetting your panties making it seep threw the material you moaned feeling him press harder and harder to you unable to stop your walls clenching. he pulled away licking his finger clean moaning loud.

"Fuck you taste amazing, ugh god I was going to wait until after tonight but I don't think I can" with that being said he scooped you up making you giggle as he carried you to the bedroom dropping you on the bed.

"Clark! We don't have time! I have an hour and that's not enough time for anyone" he stood hands already tugging his pants down kicking them off behind him leaving him just in his boxers before e leaned over you hooking his fingers in the hips of your leggings slipping them off quickly.

"Clark! OH MY GOD-AH!" you laughed loud rolling on your side avoiding him as he tried to trap you below him, you scrabbled on your front trying to crawl up the bed away from him laughing all the time he followed laying across you sliding you down the bed below him lining them up with his caging you below him kissing your shoulder blade, you twisted your head back leaning up kissing under his jaw, then licking below his ear nipped him sucking a little, he grunted thrusting forward anchoring your hips to his with an arm below your waist. you smiled against his neck moving low leaning your weight on your shoulders the side of your head on the bed looking up at him biting your lip and rubbed your ass against his erection, he jerked forward into your ass slamming his hand down by your shoulder tucking his chin to his chest grunting his cock was twitching and throbbing hard and sore wanting nothing more then to impale you, and fuck you thoroughly.

"Fuuuck! Oh-OH god shit babe THa-AH" he panted in your ear as you whined below him grinding on him trying to chase your own orgasm. You growled it wasn't enough.

"Claaaarrk please, please I want- I cant!" he smiled knowing what you meant.

"I know Honey, but you did say we don't have time, maybe your right" you whined you and your big mouth he pulled back placing one last kiss on your nipple sucking harshly then blew cool air onto it, you squirmed

"Clark stoooop teasing me!" He laughed leaning back hands up in the air

"Alright alright love I'm sorry....Come on we should start getting ready, not time to lay about y/n your going to make us late-ow!" you scowled at him as he sent you a cheeky grin rubbing the spot you just smacked, he smirked and helped you up. You pondered on this past week as he took a shower ,the last week has been a dream your relationship with Clark had blossomed it was amazing a new date every night each as good as the first if not better and each one came with another steamy make out session that seemed to get hotter every time you came together a clash of teeth and tongue always ending with you both panting and blushing ,tho you hadn't had sex yet both of you knew it was coming, you were just waiting for the other to make the final move,you'd had had a little strop about him littering you with love bites lets just say they didn't stop on your neck... you sighed looking over to your bag you were a little sad to be returning home tomorrow night, but before that was the party tonight he finally came out of the bathroom you up you made your way to the door passing him he looked, trying to peek at your dress but you twisted tucking your dress over your arm hands clutching your hair and make up bags.

"Ah ah Mr Kent this is a surprise, its the first time your seeing me all dolled up and I want it to blow you away" he scoffed waving his hand over his crotch with a smirk

"Blow away babe" you slapped out at him playfully grunting when he dodged laughing you smiled shaking your head closing the door behind him, contrary to what you'd thought when you met he was a little shit deep down, kind caring and lovable but a cheeky little shit none the less. You sighed hopping into the shower keeping your hair out of the spray  needing it to be a little dirty for your planned style once clean you decided to get started hair and make up first. It wasn't long before you had created a vintage up do a poodle style high in the back and one large defined roll in the front with a black chiffon scarf covering below the curls at the back tied in a large mini mouse style bow just behind the roll of center, your make up was simple having freckles meant you couldn't really go all out with foundation and stuff so settled for a deep red matte lipstick and dramatic cat eye liner then touched up your brows you had found a nail bar in town when shopping with Clark a few days ago had dragged him in, him getting him his first ever manicure it was funny watching him flinch at some of the tools they had let him stay next to you as you had yours done he seemed fascinated watching as you got a set of claws done just for tonight....well not claws but they were red almond shaped false nails, which he was against at first saying you didn't need them but had changed his mind when you'd gave him back scratches that night which had become a nightly ritual him laying across your lap watching tv as you traced random patterns across his mouth watering back, how you haven't drooled over him you'll never know but it was his new favorite pass time and he had fallen asleep a few times. Finally it was time for your dress. It was a bright red pencil dress with tiny white polka dots, ruffled bardot shoulder sleeves that swooped into a flattering sweet heart neckline that showed off your generous bust there was a thick matching belt at your waist showing off your natural hourglass figure. The dress was appropriately named Rhonda's revenge and you adored it, quickly you added your string of pearls and matching earrings then slid on your patent red leather kitten heel sling backs. With one last look you grunted seeing the dark marks he had left you sighed using your yellow color corrector and foundation leaving two on the left side of your neck, one was just below your ear the other where your neck and shoulder met there was one last one just peeking over the bust of the dress, you clicked you tongue and slammed open the door.

"Kent you little shit!!" He jumped spinning around then gulped...Holy fuck you looked hot, his cock immediately stood to attention straining against the tight pants he'd wore with the sole intention of enticing you .

"I-I wha- yes? Wow you look mmm" he growled walking around the bed closing the distance in three strides. You stopped his approach with one pointed nail poised at his chest he stopped gulping still wide eyed .

"Look at this!" he smirked

"I am and I must say its stunning and I cant wait to have a piece" you flushed a little but composed yourself quickly

"No I mean this you tit!" You pointed to the love bite peaking over the  top of your dress. He smiled at you grasping your finger placing a tiny peck on the end of it

"And if you would direct your eyes here you will see your not the only one" as he said that he moved your finger to point at the light love bite just below his right ear. You gasped moving closer clasping his chin tilting his head to get a better look feeling him smirk and try to suck one of your splayed fingers into his mouth.

"What? When did I do that?" He laughed twisting his head out of your hands capturing your palm placing a kiss on it then wound his arms around your waist puling you flush against him leaning in resting his head on yours.

"Well I'm not sure but at least it matches my shirt don't you think?" You blushed at him slowly running your nails up his chest to his neck then looked down only just taking in how incredible he looked, a dark blue pair of dress pants the without even looking you knew was cupping his peach of an ass like a second skin and a deep burgundy almost purple that did in fact reflect the color of the mark you'd left on him. You smiled undoing his top two buttons letting a tiny amount of hair peek through. He sighed looking down at you as you avoided his gaze as you toyed with the small patch of revealed chest before leaving it with one chaste kiss.

"Ready to leave?" he sighed releasing you grabbing his suit jacket walking out to the living room you followed grabbing your patent leather bag that matched your shoes giggling as he struggled you put his phone keys and wallet in his pockets.

"Here you can keep them in here" you said offering your open bag he thanked you placing them inside as you grabbed a black wrap to go across your shoulders before following him out of the apartment he double checked the door then walked down the stairs arm in arm guiding you out side holding your hand as he did

"You look beautiful tonight" you flushed looking down you'd never been  good at taking compliments you shook your head

"Th-thank you I wanted to look good for you tonight... hair went a bit messy.. hence the scarf and my eyeliner-" he stopped you with a finger to your lips

"Your perfect, you look stunning and I'm going to have to beat them off of you" you blushed again leaning into his arm as he hailed down a cab to take you to the party.

Wow that was all you could say this party....it was fancy hosted in the grand room of a five star hotel there was a huge buffet table with champagne pyramid it was glitz and glam with a live jazz band what ever award they won it must have been a big one. Upon entering Clark slid off your wrap holding it himself refusing to let you take it ,you didn't get far into the hall before you were both stopped by normally a stern looking man with uncharacteristic smile you could tell by the look on Clark’s  face.

Kent! good to see you! ah- wheres Lois? I thought she said you were bringing her?" Clark cleared his throat

"Ah yes that... No we haven't been together in just over a month but she was trying to force me to go with her..... This beautiful woman tho is my beautiful girlfriend Y/n, love this is my boss Perry editor and chief of the daily planet" you nodded shaking his hand

"So this is Perry its nice to finally have a name to the face" he got over his shock then shook your hand

"Its nice to meet you to and if I do say I think Kent here is punching above his weight" he laughed as Clark sighed closing his eyes at the comment.

"I think you will find its the other way around... this is a fancy party tho very nice." he thanked you then turned to Clark who had tugged you to his side after noticeable the looks his male coworkers were giving you, hungry eyes scanning his woman didn't sit well with him.

"So your from the uk?" you smiled nodding

"Yeah decided a change so up sticks and moved here-well smallville and met Clark" Perry nodded calling over a server Clark took a glass each for the both of you handing you yours

"Well that's one hell of a move where are you from in England"

"Kent funnily enough, in the south east" he nodded to you pointing in realization.

"The garden of England?" you scoffed at him sipping your drink.

"Yes something like that, I lived in a large city but just outside it is tiny villages and hundreds of orchards and manor houses, its picturesque I suppose" he smiled then looked to Clark

"So its over for good this time?- sorry for you don't mind?" you shook your head at Perry

"Honestly its fine I know she isn't....moving on" you looked to Clark there was stern look on his face you bit back the doubt choosing to quietly sip your drink, a slither of fear that he would choose this woman over you an your not sure you could handle it your sure you'd already fallen to hard for this amazing man.

"You know as well as I do Perry she wont listen... but this time I meant it and now I have this lovely lady right here...I hope she realizes now" Perry smiled as he watched you and Clark you blushed tucking your self into him, he knew that Lois had taken her toll on Clark but here in front of him he saw a happy man and could only hope it would last.

"Well I've got to do the rounds enjoy the party" you giggled thanking him wrapping a hand around Clark’s waist trying to push away the taunting fears that seemed to lurk just below the surface, he squeezed you a little reassuringly placing a small kiss on your head as he walked you over to a table of his co workers introducing you to them an hour later you had seemed to go through the same conservation the same answers yes you were together, no he wasn't bringing Lois, no he wasn't with Lois any more and yes you were from England and your accent wasn't fake...it was exhausting but finally Clark had stole you away onto the dance floor sharing a few slow dances stealing kisses you chuckled"Your lucky this is matte" he smiled kissing you again"I wouldn't care if it wasn't" you rolled your eyes shaking your head the leaned it against him listening to his heart beat it was a wonderful night... Then you felt it a piercing gaze into your back you knew, you closed your eyes all night you had been dreading this you knew it was silly but deep down you was scared he would run back to her, they had so much history together your heart ached he must of realized where your thoughts were going and placed his hands on your face making you look at him, fear and doubt clouded your eyes he smiled at you.

"Hey look at me- that's it, I'm here with you no one else" you blinked up at him and his heart all but stopped he moved down kissing you deeply you gasped tilting your head to the side he followed opening his mouth exploring your mouth then slowly pulled back

"I-I've fallen in love with you" you gasped at him heart skipping a beat

"What how- Clark isn't it to soon-" he smiled wrapping you up in his arms again gazing into your eyes shaking his head

"No Ma always said when you know you'll know...I never knew what she meant before.... she said it was like the world stops, no worry or fear just calm and quiet knowing everything will be fine in the end as long as you have each other and I'm telling you now I-I love you, I've never felt like this before its incredible and light, there's no strings o-or catches...I know it might seem weird and you might not feel the same-"

"Don't be stupid of course I feel the same, its- I was scared of telling you in case you thought I was moving to fast. I love you Clark Kent." his face lit up those words just hearing you say you love him. Not Kal. Not Superman. Him. Clark Kent. his grin lit up his face then he pulled you to his chest keeping you tight against him once the song was finished you shared a final kiss which he deepened quickly teasing your mouth open he plundered your mouth with ease he tasted of the wine he had been drinking a sweet strong flavor that he made sure to fill your mouth with as his tongue moved back and forth moving with your tongue fighting and playing, he grunted and tugged to towards him holding your ass squeezing it you bit at his lip pulling back giggling as he laughed a little. Then someone cleared their throat you tensed turning seeing a beautiful woman auburn hair and light blue eyes she wore a short silver dress hair hanging down in soft waves the sides pinned up behind her head with silver clips.

"Clark can I have this dance?" he went to refuse but you put your hand on his chest nodding.

"I will get us some drinks okay? see you in a minute" he was torn looking at you gulping

"But what about you?" moving to cup your cheek you tilted pressing a kiss to his open palm closing your eyes then took a deep look into his before nodding

"Its okay love, its just one dance you both need to talk" he went to speak but was interrupted

"Yes we do" you turned to walk past her closing your eyes at her voice, she wasn't happy with you, you held back a shuddering breath, this was it even tho you'd both just announced your feelings this woman was beautiful and she wouldn't give up Clark, you couldn't blame her if you were in her place you wouldn't give him up either you knew others were looking before you could take a step Clark grasped your wrist making you look at him.

"I meant what I said" you smiled and nodded placing a hand on his.

"I know that I did to" you pulled away leaving him with the other woman you stood by the table where his co workers were watching your bag you moved to sit next to a Asian woman you'd been getting along with. Bethany she moved over placing a hand on your arm.

"Are you okay?" you smiled fighting back your unshed tears

"Yes I'm fine... he has to make up his mind...I love him I trust him" she sighed shaking her head watching as he slipped his arm around the woman's waist rigidly moving across the floor.

"Its not him I'm worried about, I don't know what it is but there is something going on, he seems to feel obligated to indulge her... here you look like you need one" she said passing you a drink you thanked he

r"She tries anything I'll drop her like a fucking rock" she laughed at that you cleared your throat still feeling eyes on you looking over you saw Perry pointing to the dance pair questioningly you shrugged he glared and made his way across to you pushing threw everyone who seemed oblivious to the drama unfolding in the room.

"What the hell are you doing sitting here?" you smiled at him sadly watching as Clark and Lois made a swooping circle across the floor.

"He needs to talk to her... and this way no drama they can share a dance and say what needs to be said then he can come back to me...I hope" Perry snorted

"He damn well better do! and fuck not causing drama" you smiled at him watching with baited breath

"She tries anything you'll get drama alright trust me Perry" he would be lying if he didn't want to see that, as much as he liked Lois she had been odd with Clark in the past year he had seemed tense, a shell and everyone could see that he wasn't happy. Clark sighed as you walked away he frowned as Lois took your place quickly hand on his shoulder and waist as he took position stepping back as far as he could before dancing.

"You look very handsome tonight Kal" he flinched clenching his jaw as she spun out then back in to him.

"Lois... not here" she laughed a little as they continued to move.

"So who is she? someone to make me jealous? if you wanted my attention you should have asked." he bit his lip growling a little.

"No Lois she's not to make you jealous and it wasn't to get your attention she's my date" she faltered hissing at him

"No that doesn't make sense tho we were supposed to be coming here together? I waited you know." he spun making another round of the floor catching you sitting by Bethany, Perry standing by your side arms folded watching things play out, you looked distraught his heart clenched any lingering feelings he had for the woman in his arms died he turned to the red head.

"Well I told I wasn't coming with you and me coming with Y/n makes perfect sense considering she is my girlfriend" she glared

"Cheating? I never thought you'd be one for that Kal" he growled fighting to hold back his strength

"I've told you to stop calling me that! and we would have to be together for me to be cheating and we haven't been a couple in over a month." she smiled then laughed off his stern look.

"You cant be serious that little spat? Kal love I know I gave you space but really we aren't over... we always get back together after our spats....You didn't mean it, you couldn't" the last sentence was quiet, frightened and uncertain more a question than a statement. he sighed nodding.

"Lois I did mean it, we aren't together and we aren't getting back together,I'm with y/n now and I'm happier then I've ever been" she shook her head at him

"No do-don't say that you love me, why would you say something like that?" he shook his head at her grasping her wrists pulling them off him as she tried grasping him tighter afraid of the reality that she had lost him this time.

"Because its the truth, I'm head over heels in love with her and she loves me, not Kal El not Superman me Lois. Clark Kent is enough for her and that's all I've wanted for someone to love me, the Kansas farm boy... You couldn't" she gasped moving closer but he stopped her.

"N-no you don't know what your saying, you love me I know you still love me...y-you've been drinking or something-" he placed his hands on her shoulders pressing her back.

"Lois I told you...I don't love you anymore there was a time I thought I did but you never changed...I changed for you but you never did for me and I cant wait anymore and live like that, in a one sided relationship... I'm sorry but I meant what I said enough is enough I've moved on and you should to"

"I can change I can please just give me another chance...Kal-Clark" he sighed shaking his head

"That’s just it you cant even call me by my human name anymore, please I want to be friends but I'm not your happy ending and your not mine." he finished looking over to where you sat looking down into your glass.

"And she is?"

"Yes, She's my soul mate" Lois swallowed closing her eyes letting a few tears fall as it sunk in she had lost the most incredible man she had ever known and it was her own fault,the way he said it the conviction ,the certainty there was no hesitation. He loved her she knew, the woman in red wasn't some fling or passing fancy she was his world now with out a shred of doubt Lois knew that the woman sitting across the room was the woman he'd marry, the mother to his children and the one he would grow old with. It was a bitter pill to swallow she had always dreamt it would be her and suddenly it wasn't.

"It will take time... to be friends but I would like that in the end" she whispered the words releasing him, he pat her arms giving one last look before he jogged across the dance floor away from her to the love of his life. You'd been looking down you couldn't stand watching him with her for all your big talk you were devastated it was the longest dance you'd ever known you were torn you trusted him but.... she had known him for a long time they had a history had planned a life together who were you really? just the woman who knows his mother, who agreed to pose as his girlfriend? you sighed spinning the champagne flute in your hand you downed the rest of it standing placing the empty glass on the table only to gasp as you were suddenly grabbed around the waist tugged into a hard chest you looked up.

"C-Clark?" he smiled pulling you closer to him kissing your cheek

"Weren't leaving without me love were you? everything's sorted, Lois and I are...going to keep our distance for a while...then hopefully we can be friends but for now we are going to steer clear of one another....why did you look so surprised I came back?" you looked down a little tearful shaking your head resting against him listening to his heart, he sighed you had been worried about loosing him. He leaned down pointing at you bag motioning for Beth to pass it to him, once she did he unfolded your wrap placing it across your shoulders you blinked at him pulling back.

"Clark? what are you doing?" he smiled cheekily winking at you

"Well love it appears I've got to prove to a certain lady the she is the one for me..." he leaned forward nibbling your neck you giggled at him.

"And there is one way I can think of doing that but I'm going to need a bed" you giggled slapping at his chest moving in for a kiss letting him dominate your mouth slowly as he gripped your ass pulling you to your tip toes making you squirm before pulling away.

"Lead the way" he laughed quickly ushering you out of the party heading home.

[collapsingintojupiter]

How I Met Them

So I saw a post by the lovely @sanderssides-incorrectquotes talking about socially anxious Patton, and I got a few fun ideas. I’ve decided to combine this with the Chaotic Logan idea proposed by @watchoutforthefanfics, partially because I’ve been wanting to do something like that for a while and hey...why not now?

Anyways.

Characters: Patton, Logan, Roman, Remus, and Virgil. 

I wrote each character with some slightly different characteristics in mind; for example Patton is anxious, Logan is impulsive and reckless, Roman is insecure, Remus is very scatterbrained and has ADHD, and Virgil struggles with anger issues. 

I may write more for this idea if I get enough interest, but we’ll see.

TW: Cussing, some anxiety, there’s a somewhat heated argument, and also sympathetic Remus. Let me know if you’d like me to add anything else.

Patton nibbled at an apple, seated comfortably on a park bench while he watched the geese out on the pond. He’d always enjoyed afternoons like this, when school was out and he didn’t have to be home yet. Patton liked watching the geese. He liked seeing them swim around without a care in the world, he liked the little sparrows that flitted in the tree branches overhead, he liked hearing the birds sing and seeing the water ripple and not having to hear screaming students that made his ears ring. 

A goose honked and Patton smiled at it. 

“Hi,” he called to it. The goose looked at him, then turned and went back to its business. Patton watched for a little while longer before he stood up and yawned, adjusting the light pink scarf around his neck. It went nicely with his pale blue sweater, which had a kitten face on it, and lavender-colored pants that reminded him of his favorite flowers. Matching that were white shoes with cotton-candy dyed laces and pastel rainbow-striped socks--what could he say? Patton liked pretty colors, and he loved wearing them whenever he could. He liked his colorful glasses and his bright tie-dye backpack; liked putting flowers in his hair during the warmer months and wearing colorful bracelets all year-round. Colors were fun, and beautiful, and there for you even when you were tired and anxious and unable to think straight (heh).

Patton started along the little pathway by the lake, carefully adjusting the light blue beanie that sat on top of his curly brown hair. He ran his fingers along its soft surface and smiled a little to himself, letting out a quiet sigh. 

Then a scream interrupted him. 

Actually, it was a lot of screaming. 

Then something sprinted past Patton in a whirl, launching itself into the pond without a second’s hesitation. The geese honked and scattered in a flurry of wings; Patton jumped aside with a panicked yelp and tripped, falling headfirst into the pond’s shallows. Cold water splashed over his face and his hands squelched into deep mud--he panicked when he realized he couldn’t breathe, before something grabbed his arm and wrenched him upwards. 

“Logan you fucking idiot!” someone was shouting. “You knocked him over!”

“I didn’t do anything!” called back another indignant voice, accompanied by the sound of splashing. “It’s not my fault he fell!”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” The one who had been holding Patton’s arm suddenly let go and he stumbled back, barely managing to regain his footing before he fell again. He fumbled for his glasses and realized they were no longer on his face. 

“Dammit, guys it’s Patton! Logan, are his glasses there? He needs his glasses.”

Roman…? Patton wasn’t sure if he recognized the voice or not, but it sounded a bit like him. 

“Are these it?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Well give them to him, you idiot!” A blurry figure pressed something into Patton’s shaking hands and he held the item up to his face, blinking and looking at his new surroundings through familiar drop-streaked lenses. 

“Th-these are...mine,” he managed to say with some difficulty, his heart thumping nervously as he looked over the characters surrounding him and shivered. 

“I’m sorry you fell; Logan’s an idiot and it’s not my fault,” chirped a punk-looking boy that looked a lot like Roman, but with hair that was twice as messy and a wild look in his eye.

“You dared me! You wanted to know how cold the water was!” Another punk, this one in blue and black, slapped the first with a wet hand. “And it’s fucking freezing, by the way.” Patton stared at the two with wide eyes, unable to form words from his mouth which had suddenly gone dry with anxiety.

“Guys, shut up.” Another boy, this one in purple, shoved his way past the first two and shoved a jacket into Patton’s hands. “Here, you can have mine. Patton, right?”

Patton managed a tiny, shy nod.

“How far away is your house?”

“Uh…It’s...it’s that way...” Patton pointed down the street with a shaky hand. “Uh...t-ten minutes?” His voice squeaked, and his cheeks turned red. 

“Our place is closer.” Roman, who was wearing a red and white varsity jacket, nodded to the other one that looked like him. “It’s just down the street, you’re gonna freeze to death if you go home in that. Come with us.”

Patton wanted to protest, but all he managed was another squeak that Roman took to be an agreement as the group started walking. His knees shook but he started running after them, trying to ignore how his heart was trying to jackhammer itself out of his chest. 

A hand suddenly appeared in front of him. Patton jumped and looked up, seeing the purple punk. 

“I’m Virgil,” he said. He pointed at the one who looked like Roman but wasn’t Roman. “That’s Remus, the wet one’s Logan, and he’s Roman. You’re in my English class, aren’t you?” Patton looked at him and nodded. 

“Yeah…” 

“Do you not want the jacket?” Patton suddenly realized it was still in his arms, shaking his head before grabbing it and wrapping it around his shoulders. 

“Th-thanks,” he said. 

“Don’t mention it.” Patton looked over the group as they continued walking, trying to match each name to each face. Logan was the tall pale one with unruly brown hair dyed blue--he looked like a vampire, to be honest. He had a hearing aid in his left ear. Remus and Roman were both shorter with a Latino build and darker skin, though Remus had dyed a streak of silver into his wild hair while Roman kept his impeccably groomed. Virgil was also tall, and his skin was as dark as Logan’s was pale. His hair was done in long dreads, which were at the moment pulled back into a ponytail. 

And then there was him. Patton. Short and skinny, with curly brown hair and tan skin and dark eyes, and a character about as frightening as a cupcake. 

 Virgil stayed by his side and let the others go ahead, keeping quiet company with Patton as the group followed Roman to where his house apparently was--he hadn’t realized that they lived so close, though that shouldn’t have been surprising. 

“Alright, parents aren’t home. We’re good,” Remus announced loudly as he swung the door open. Roman smiled at Patton as he entered, then followed him inside. 

“Here, come with me,” he said. “I have some clothes you can change into.”

“But...I...I can’t just take your stuff!” Patton protested, stopping as Roman disappeared into what was probably his room. 

“You can give them back tomorrow,” was the answer. Roman reappeared a few minutes later, passing a bundle to Patton. “Sorry it’s not more your style. Bathroom’s that way.” He pointed down the hall, and before Patton knew what he was doing he was following the other boy’s directions. He went down the hall that wasn’t his, past rooms that weren’t his, and into the bathroom that wasn’t his. He closed the door, his heart pounding, and stared at his muddy, shivering reflection in the mirror. The front of his favorite sweatshirt was splattered with mud, as well as everything else. He’d be lucky if it washed out…

The clothes Roman had given him consisted of a maroon sweatshirt that was too big for Patton, sweatpants, a gray and black-striped scarf, and...a beanie? Patton washed his face and toweled off his hair, sliding the yellow hat onto his head and feeling just a bit better as the fabric settled down on his curls. 

When he opened the door, Roman was leaning against the wall on the other side of the hall. He waved a little, then offered up a plastic bag for Patton to put his wet clothes in. 

“If it’s alright...I also had Virgil make you some hot chocolate? I really am sorry for what happened out there…”

“It’s alright,” Patton said quietly. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do. You look cute as hell in that sweater, by the way.”

“Huh?” Patton felt his cheeks blush and he looked down at himself--the colors were all wrong and they didn’t fit right at all as far as he was concerned, but more than that…

Was Roman flirting with him?

“Yeah! You look nice in red.” Roman smiled at him again as they came into the living room, where the other boy flopped onto the couch next to Remus and Logan--Logan, who’d already been banished to the floor as he was still wet and didn’t seem to have any intention of changing. 

“Hey,” Remus said. Patton blinked at him.

“Uh, hey.”

“We go to the same school don’t we?” 

“Remus, you’re in classes with him!” Logan turned around and smacked the other boy, who made a face of surprise. 

“Really? Must’ve forgotten…” Patton wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing. 

“Here.” Patton turned as Virgil entered the living room, passing a mug to him. “Hot chocolate?”

“Um, thanks.” Patton tentatively accepted the offering, looking around the room before he sat down on the edge of an empty sofa. “So, um...what were you guys doing out there?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you guys at the park before, and I go there every day.” Roman chuckled at that, Virgil rolled his eyes, and Logan and Remus exchanged amused looks. 

“Well,” Remus started. “You see, we were originally going to try and tie two ducks together…”

“...But we couldn’t find anything to catch them with, and we’d already tried rushin’ ‘em, so we got bored. And then Remus wondered how cold the water was.” Logan shrugged. “It’s cold, by the way, in case you were wondering.” Patton smiled the tiniest bit at that. 

“Y-Yeah, I noticed.” Remus barked a laugh that made him jump, and Logan smacked him again. 

Patton ended up hanging out with the odd group for a little while, drinking hot chocolate and listening while the others laughed and joked and talked about odd things. Once he’d finished Roman practically jumped out of his seat to take the cup for him, and though Patton felt bad about letting the other boy take it for him he didn’t say anything. Roman ran it to the kitchen, and when he came back the others were all standing up. Patton blinked at them in confusion, but took Virgil’s hand when he offered it. 

“Mind if we escort you back to your place?” he asked. 

“You, you don’t have to if you don’t--”

“That wasn’t the question,” the purple punk answered, and smiled. “Would you like us to accompany you, Patton? We’d be honored to walk you home.”

He had to admit, it was a nice offer. One he’d never gotten before from anybody; people didn’t really just ask to hang out with him. And Patton couldn’t quite believe it, but these odd characters had already managed to grow on him. They were nothing like the people Patton had met before in school, and their strangeness somehow only made him like them more. He glanced awkwardly around the group, then nodded. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He automatically reached up to touch his beanie, then grinned a little and nodded to Roman as he held the door open for him. The group followed him outside, Logan shivering but stubbornly refusing to accept the coat Roman offered him. 

“Wonder how long it takes to get hypothermia while wet in this weather,” Remus said aloud. Logan paused, then his eyes got wide and he grinned maniacally. 

“Why don’t we find--”

“Absolutely you will not,” Virgil cut in, throwing a glare at the green punk. “Christ, I am not calling the hospital again this month.” Logan made a face at him, and he and Remus exchanged annoyed looks before shrugging and continuing on their way. Virgil let out a long sigh, then glanced at Patton. 

“In case you're wondering, yes I have had to call the hospital already this month,” he said. “And no, you can’t ask about it.” Patton blinked at him.

“Okay,” he said. 

“You know, he’s alright,” Remus said, pointing at Patton. “I like him.”

“It’s your fault he ended up in that pond,” Roman glared at his twin, who glared back. 

“That was Logan’s fault, don’t blame me for what he did!”

“Oh, because he’s definitely got his impulse control under control!”

“Hey!” Logan shouted. “You both--”

“--Guys, guys it’s okay!” Patton automatically stepped between the three, his heart pounding as he held his hands up. “Please...please don’t fight.” The punks and fashionable boy looked between each other, then suddenly seemed to calm down, nodding to each other. 

“Sorry,” Remus offered. “Didn’t want to upset you.”

“I apologize as well,” Logan added, and Roman nodded.

“It’s alright,” Patton said, then added, “thanks for listening.”

“Course.” 

The group fell silent as they continued; even Logan and Remus managed to behave until they were on the steps to Patton’s house. He looked back at them and smiled, taking his bag of wet clothes back from Roman as he went to the door. 

“Thanks for...for the fun time,” he said, and then the door was closed and they were gone. 

[iwritesickfic]

1/2 Aaaaah I’ve fallen quickly in love with your writing, I love your style. A couple of prompts, since you asked for them: Peter thinks he’s recovering from a bad illness- genuinely so fed up of being ill that at this point he’s willing to pretend to himself and everyone else he’s feeling better. Meanwhile he’s still staying up late working, and one day he gets stuck in the rain on the way from class and needs some help... and Ashlyn is closest...

First, thank you!!!!!! Second, this is long as hell and I also got sucked into the DRAMA of it all so I hope you still enjoy it :) might write a second part if we’re feeling it? anyway, enjoy and thanks for the kind words and prompts :)

It seems like it’s been forever since Peter hasn’t felt like shit. It’s like his body is trying to make up for all the years he spent avoiding every cold and flu that went around. He has to admit though, the main reason he’s still ill is because he won’t really give himself the time to fully recover. As soon as he’s feeling halfway decent, he dives back into life as normal - which for him, is 6 hours sleep and living on coffee - and within a week he’s back to being practically bedridden.

Leo is fed up with it. Big time. At least that’s what Peter’s gathered. Leo’s never said as much, but Peter figures he must be getting tired of it by now. So much that Peter’s stopped telling him how he’s feeling. At first it was just lying by omission. Now it’s lying-lying.

Today, everything’s concentrated in his head. His sinuses are throbbing, and his eyes hurt to move. He’s been swapping between chills and feeling too hot all day, and he’s pretty sure everyone in his lecture class hates his guts for his constant sniffling. He ran out of tissues about an hour into the six hour course, so he’s stuck wiping his nose with the crumpled leftovers and the few napkins he finds in a pocket of his bag.

By the time there’s only an hour left in class, he’s lost all ability to absorb anything the professor is saying. He’s shaking so badly he can’t take notes even if he wanted to. He’s considered leaving early, but to be honest, he’d rather put off his walk to the train as long as possible. He decides when he gets home, he’s chugging some nyquil, taking a cold shower, and going the fuck to sleep. He’s got a date with Leo tonight but he’ll need to make some excuse.

When the professor finally ends the class, he gets a rush of dopamine at the thought he’s only a 15 minute walk and a 30 minute train ride from some relief.

He stares at his phone, trying to think of something to tell Leo.

something came up, can i see you thursday?

Leo texts back almost immediately.

we already rescheduled twice are you sure you cant make it?

Peter bites his lip.

it’s a thesis thing. im sorry i promise thursday night.

He starts to pack his bag, and his phone buzzes.

ok, good luck love x

He pushes down the wave of guilt he feels and slings his bag over his shoulder. His heart drops into his stomach when he gets to the building’s lobby. It’s raining. Really raining, not just drizzling, but pouring. He swears, and sits down on one of the benches. He can wait.

Ten minutes later, the rain still hasn’t let up, and he knows if he doesn’t get up now he’s going to end up asleep on this bench whether he likes it or not. When he stands, the world starts to spin, and he has to bite back a whine at the way his headache worsens.

He pulls his hood on, even though it won’t make much of a difference, and takes a step outside. It’s not even five minutes before he’s soaked. At first, the rain almost felt nice on his fevered skin, but now he’s freezing. The cold’s worsened the way his nose is running, there’s mess all over his upper lip, and he can’t stop sneezing. His hair is stuck to his forehead, water gathered in his eyelashes. It’s another five minutes before he realizes he’s not getting to the train. His knees give out, and he has to catch himself against a bus shelter. He manages to make it to the bench inside, and sinks down, hyperventilating. He looks around aimlessly, hoping something will catch his eye and give him some semblance of a plan. And it does.

He’s on 110th and Amsterdam. That’s a block from Ashlynn’s apartment. Less than a block. He stands up, waiting for the world to stop spinning before making an attempt to walk. He tries not to think about the cold, or the way he can’t feel his toes, or the pounding in his head. Just focuses on one foot in front of the other.

He finds himself at her building. He presses her buzzer with shaking fingers, praying she’s home. He doesn’t have to wait even 30 seconds before the lobby door opens.

he steps inside, unable to hold back the heavy sigh of relief at the sudden warmth. He stands there for a moment, swaying slightly, before making his way to the elevator. Somehow, he finds himself at her door, and knocks. he hears her footsteps padding closer and closer before she’s standing right there, in front of him.

“Peter?” she looks puzzled until the world starts to tilt and he grips the doorframe to stay upright. “Whoa, hey, are you alright?” He opens his mouth to speak but three harsh sneezes come out instead, and he buries them into the wet sleeve of his hoodie. “Ok, c’mere.” She pulls him inside, and before he really knows what’s going on, he’s sitting at her kitchen table.

“S’raining,” he mumbles, and she hums in response.”M’cold.”

“I can tell. Here -” She starts to strip off his hoodie, which is totally soaked through. His shivering worsens, and she palms his forehead. “Shit, Peter.” She takes the hem of his t shirt and hesitates. “Can I...?” He nods, and she peels it off. She unties his sneakers and pulls off his socks, then bites her lip. “I can grab you a pair of my roommate’s sweatpants and you can change in the bathroom, yeah?” He shakes his head. There is no way he’s walking anywhere right now. She goes red. “You want me to...”

“M’gonna pass out if I try to stand up, Ash.”

Carefully, she unbuttons his jeans, tugging them off until he’s sitting in his underwear. She disappears for a moment before coming back with a towel, and wraps it around his shoulders. She places a box of tissues on his lap, and sits down in the chair across from him.

“What’s going on?”

“M’sick.” She laughs softly. Peter gingerly starts to wipe his nose, wincing at the raw, chapped soreness. He blows, and a spike of pain hits him between the eyes.

“Yeah, I can tell. Why were you -”

“Walking home from class,” he mumbles, and she nods. She stands up, and reappears with a thermometer. “Can we not?”

“If you wanna stay here then you’re gonna have to let me baby you,” she says, and if it didn’t hurt so bad he’d roll his eyes. He lets her stick the device under his tongue, and while she’s waiting for the reading she starts heating up water for tea. The thermometer beeps and she removes it gently. She frowns.

“What?” She takes a deep breath.

“It’s high, that’s all.” He raises his eyebrows at her. “102.2.”

“Not so bad,” he murmurs. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open. Sitting here in the warmth of the kitchen his body is finally deciding it’s had enough. The sudden warmth is also making his nose run. He sniffles.

“I’m not even gonna comment on that. C’mon, you can lay down on the couch. I’d offer you my bed but I don’t think you’ll make it that far to be honest.” He nods, and she pulls him upright. He manages to make it the few feet to the couch, and lands heavily. She swaps the towel for a blanket, and he’s never felt something better than the way it feels on his freezing, damp skin. Dry and warm and heavy. He curls up on his side, holding a tissue under his still-leaking nose, and he doesn’t last 30 seconds before falling asleep.

He’s awakened suddenly by the harsh ring of his cell phone. His headache is worse, despite the rest, and though his nose has stopped running it seems, his head is fully, hopelessly congested. He digs through his bag to find his phone, and frowns when he sees it’s Leo. He considers letting the call go to voicemail, but that’s before he sees the 5 previous missed calls.

“Hello?” He hates the way his voice sounds - sick and congested and torn up.

“Peter, what the fuck is going on?”

“I’m uh...I’m home working on thesis.” It takes him a moment to remember his lie from earlier.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why then do I see a photo of you, shirtless, on Ashlynn’s couch?” Peter knows immediately that he has fucked up, big time. “Do I really need to explain to you why that makes me upset?”

“Leo -”

“You better have a good fucking explanation for this.” Maybe it’s the fever, maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen Leo in weeks, or maybe it’s the build up of all the guilt he’s felt lying to him, but Peter feels tears start to fall. He breaks into sobs, and they make his headache exponentially worse.

“Leo, p-please, I -” He can barely speak around his tears. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad at you for what?” His voice is cold. “Tell me. I want to hear you tell me.”

“It’s...it’s not -”

“Tell me, Peter.”

“I didn’t want...I didn’t want you to be mad at me.” His fevered brain can’t quite string together the right words.

“How would...” He trails off. “How would sleeping with Ashlynn not make me mad?”

“I didn’t - we...it wasn’t...I know you’re tired of taking care of me, so -”

“What?” Leo’s tone has shifted.

“I know you’re sick of me being sick, so I was gonna just go home and sleep and then it was raining, and I was so fucking dizzy, and I was on 110th street -”

“Wait. Stop. Let me get this straight. You’re ill?”

“Yeah,” he says, and the guilt is absolutely eating him up. “I didn’t want to bother -”

“Love, why would that be bothering me?” Leo sounds almost sad.

“You-you’re so busy, and -”

“Peter, I don’t know what kind of miscommunication happened here but I’m not...I wouldn’t be bothered if I knew you weren’t feeling well. I mean, I’d be upset but just because I don’t want you to feel bad. I wouldn’t be mad at you or angry with you or something like that. Why would you have that idea?”

“I’d hate me if I was you,” he chokes out, and Leo sighs.

“Peter...Look, can I come get you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know that, that’s not why I asked.” He pauses. “Where’s Ashlynn?”

That’s a good question. Peter isn’t sure. At class, maybe?

“Not uh...not here.”

“Ok, I’m gonna call you back. I love you, ok?”

“Mmhm. Love you too.”

“Ok, just relax. Everything’s alright. Hang tight.”

“Ok.”

[syntaxeme]

Sugar is Sweet (and So Are You) ch.3

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter (coming soon!)] [Read on AO3] [Support me on Ko-fi] Rating: T Summary: Plagued by jealousy toward the men Angel sleeps with, Alastor comes up with a plan to keep Angel from having to work the streets. He wasn’t planning on becoming an actual client, but having Angel all to himself might prove too sweet to give up–for as long as he can afford it, that is.

— — —

Niffty was as apt and eager a sous chef as one could hope for, not only happy to follow directions to a T but intent on keeping their workspace neat at the same time. Concentrating on cooking had the desired effect of keeping Alastor too busy to fret over Angel’s absence (or anything else regarding him), and it wasn’t until around 7, as he was finishing up his cooking, that he was forcibly reminded of those concerns.

“Mm, it smells amazing in here,” Angel called as he entered the room, and Alastor had to force himself not to look back at him. Niffty had already gone off to set things up in the second floor ballroom, so they were alone in the kitchen. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Etouffee and rice. Blackened snapper filets. Maque choux.” He indicated each dish on the stove and counter respectively. “Though that has tasso in it, so someone who isn’t comfortable eating pork should probably avoid it.” It was still somewhat amusing that Angel eschewed pork products purely because he had a pet pig, while Alastor himself had never been squeamish about meat from any source. To each his own, he supposed.

“Shit, you musta been at it for hours, then.” The spider came over to lean against the counter at his side and leaned toward the pan of etouffee Alastor was stirring with a wooden spoon, opening his mouth expectantly. “Aah…”

The Radio Demon’s eyes narrowed, and instead of complying, he used his free hand to push Angel’s chin upward and close his mouth again. “You’ll be able to try it when everyone else does. Assuming you didn’t have dinner while you were out.”

“Aw, c’mon, I don’t get any special treatment? Are ya mad at me or somethin’?”

“Where have you been?” Alastor asked, ignoring the question, then added, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Ooh, you are mad. Ya gonna punish me?” Angel purred. When he saw that Alastor’s expression was utterly devoid of amusement, he sighed and shook his head. “Take a better look at me and see if ya can’t guess.” Posing against the edge of the counter, he ran one hand through his hair (which Alastor now noticed had been styled and formed into loose curls) and used the lower pair to smooth the magenta dress he was wearing (a daring halter number that covered his chest but bared his shoulders—not a familiar part of his existing wardrobe). His nails were painted to match, and the shoes looked new as well.

“You went…shopping?”

“Among other things. Just a little self-care day, a little pampering. Because I deserve it. Don’t I, Daddy?” he concluded with a playful smirk that said there was only one correct answer.

“I suppose.” Alastor wasn’t sure what it was about that new title Angel had given him that flustered him so. It wasn’t any sort of disconcerting Freudian paraphilia, he was sure. Maybe it was the way Angel said it, as an indication of familiarity and the role he’d been cast in this relationship. An admission of authority. It made him feel…powerful. Powerful in a way he wasn’t used to feeling.

“What’d you think, I was runnin’ off to meet some other guy?” Angel asked, hitting the nail exactly on the head. “Why should I when you already said you’re takin’ care of me? I wouldn’t’ve figured you were the kinda guy to get jealous that easily, but it’s sweet you wanna keep me to yourself.”

You have no idea. “And the woman you were with?” the Radio Demon prompted, finally deciding that his etouffee was ready to be served and taking it off the heat. As he was arranging the various dishes on a catering trolley to take them upstairs, he continued, “The one who pulled you out of your meeting with Charlie for all this?”

“She’s my manager. Or she was, I guess. I told her about this”—Angel gestured between the two of them—“earlier, and she wanted the details. Then I was already out, I had some cash to burn, and I figured I should show ya what you’re payin’ for here.” As Alastor was rolling his sleeves back down and readjusting his cuffs, Angel stepped in close to drape his arms over the Radio Demon’s shoulders. He also caught Alastor’s hands to pull them around his own waist, drawing their bodies close together and demanding his attention. “So, you like? Or should I be tryin’ harder?” If he tried much harder, Alastor’s poor heart was likely to give out from overexertion.

“You do look nice, cher,” he confessed, allowing his hands to rest tentatively on Angel’s back and forcibly withholding his full opinion on the subject—that he enjoyed the idea of Angel getting dolled up to impress him, that he loved knowing his support had bought the spider a few hours’ indulgence, that he was terribly tempted to blow off the dinner he was supposed to be serving and spend the time alone with Angel instead.

“Look all ya want, honey.” As he leaned in for a kiss, the tension in Alastor’s body only heightened, but he forced himself not to retreat (or maybe he was so deer-in-headlights frozen that he couldn’t have fled if he’d wanted to). As much as he wanted what Angel was offering, he was equally afraid of embarrassing himself with his inexperience.

“Alastor, do you need—oh!” Just as he’d gathered his courage and tilted his head upward to meet Angel’s lips, Niffty’s voice rang through the kitchen. He reflexively stepped back at the sound, breaking the spider’s hold on him and leaving about two feet’s distance between them.

“What was that, dear?” he asked, unsure whether the smile he flashed her was intended to intimidate or reassure. It made little difference, as she was pointedly avoiding looking at him, her cheeks flushed.

“Uh, everything’s ready upstairs. I came to see if you need any help taking stuff up.”

“No. Thank you. Go on ahead and we’ll be up shortly.” She wasn’t eager to argue and zipped out of the room as quickly as she’d appeared, leaving Alastor to clear his throat awkwardly as he swept his jacket back on.

“Why does it bother you if the others know?” Angel asked, strolling along behind Alastor as he pushed the trolley out of the kitchen and toward the elevator. He didn’t seem offended, just curious, likely because he himself had no issue about being open with his sexual dealings.

“I don’t know that it bothers me, per se. But whatever goes on between you and me is none of their affair.” Especially Charlie.

“Sure, I guess, but it still seems kinda shitty to hafta act different just because someone else is around.” When Alastor didn’t answer right away, Angel quickly went on, “I mean, at the end of the day, it’s whatever you want. Just knowin’ you, I woulda figured you wouldn’t care what anybody else thought of it.”

When they got to the ballroom, true to Charlie’s word, everyone was gathered already, hovering around the handful of tables scattered throughout the room and sipping cocktails (provided by Husk, who had set up a sort of half bar by the door). Luckily, Alastor’s cooking experience in life had given him plenty of experience with serving large groups, so this was nothing he couldn’t handle. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting; I’m sure you’re all starved by now!”

“Nope, you’re just in time.” Charlie sidled up to him as he was setting out the dishes along the banquet tables lining the far wall. “I can’t blame you if you got a little distracted.” She nodded heavily toward Angel, who had been crowded by a few of their female patrons all ooh-ing and aah-ing over his outfit.

“What, this old thing?” he purred, posing deliberately and beaming from the attention. His smile was one of the first things the Radio Demon had come to admire about him, and knowing he himself had caused it was even more satisfying. Angel was beautiful; there was no denying that. So why, Alastor wondered, should he even bother trying?

“Yes, maybe I was,” he agreed with Charlie’s statement as he finished up setting out the spread. He ignored her wide eyes and delighted grin as he swept the trolley to one side and gestured to the table with a flourish. “Well, here we are! There should be plenty for everyone, so don’t be shy.”

Dinner didn’t go exactly the way he’d expected. He and Angel shared a table with Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, and Husk, and although the conversation was the sort typical of the group, he couldn’t help feeling Angel was paying him more attention than usual. Of course, ever since the hotel’s opening, the two had developed a certain chemistry, a sort of quick-fire volley of snarky comments and clever comebacks, but it felt softer on this particular evening. Different. And Alastor found he didn’t mind it.

He still hesitated and drew away when Angel got overtly affectionate—stroking lightly along his hand, leaning close to speak into his ear, playfully toying with his hair—but it was more for his own comfort than out of concern about what anyone else might think. Angel was right in saying that their opinions shouldn’t matter, and if it meant Alastor didn’t have to deliberately maintain his distance, he didn’t mind dealing with their curious glances and whispers.

When everyone had eaten their fill, the other patrons dispersed gradually until only the hotel’s staff was left in the ballroom, chatting long past dark. Husk was the first one to retire, followed soon by Vaggie gently leading a somewhat tipsy Charlie toward the doors as well.

“Wait, wait,” Charlie insisted, “shouldn’t we help clean up?”

“Nope!” Niffty answered cheerfully, waving her onward. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry!” In fact, she was already up and starting to gather plates, apparently no less energetic after dinner and drinks—or at least not enough to keep her from happily working.

“I suppose we’ll leave you to it, then,” Alastor agreed, getting to his feet as well. Angel followed along without prompting.

“Y’know,” he started as they took the stairs to the third floor, where Alastor’s room was located, “you’re a pretty good cook, Al. But I think that meal was missin’ somethin’.”

“Oh? What’s that?” The notion was actually a bit insulting.

“Don’t get me wrong; you make a helluva dinner. But”—he caught Alastor’s hand as they reached the door labeled 313—“now I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet. So what’s for dessert?”

In literal terms, Alastor had never cared much for overly sweet things. Somehow, he got the feeling Angel wasn’t talking about beignets. He froze up for a moment, having failed to consider this aspect of the evening. Of course, it was only logical that Angel’s newly affectionate attitude toward him would include an offer like this, based on his usual interactions with clients.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he answered. “I’m typically not much for sweets.”

Angel hesitated, tilting his head to one side, then his expression changed. Pouting slightly, he ran a hand through his hair to loosen his curls a little more. “But you can make an exception for me, right? I’ll get so cold up in my room all by myself, Daddy,” he whined, batting his eyes, looking strangely smaller and more fragile than usual. Raising Alastor’s hand up to his cheek and nuzzling against it, he suggested, “Lemme sleep here with you instead.”

Alastor didn’t respond right away. Although he wanted to believe that Angel had a genuine desire to be near him, something about this proposition felt artificial, almost like a game, like he was putting on an act for Alastor’s benefit. And if that was the case, he had no interest in it. He wanted Angel’s genuine self, the confident, assertive, clever individual he’d come to know and enjoy, not whatever persona he put on to please his clients.

“If you want to be here, cher, then by all means, stay. If you’re offering purely for my benefit, however, you can go back to your own room,” he said plainly, and Angel frowned.

“I dunno what that means,” he sighed, crossing both pairs of arms. Even in his irritation, he seemed more like himself, which was an improvement. “D’you not get how this works? You’re takin’ care of me, so I’ll take care of you. I don’t like to welch on a deal, but you gotta tell me what ya want if I’m gonna do it.” The prospect of being ‘taken care of’ by Angel, even if not in the way he had in mind, was immensely appealing. But only if there was a good reason behind it.

“I just did. I’m paying for your time so that you can choose what to do with it. If you’d like to stay, that’s fine. In fact, I think I would like you to,” he confessed, his gaze lingering somewhere around Angel’s right shoulder so their eyes wouldn’t meet. “But if you see this as a professional obligation, if you’re only doing it because I’m paying you, let me say that you have no need to. I don’t want you to make it a chore to be around me.”

The sound Angel let out was sort of a laugh, sort of a scoff, sort of dismissive and uncomfortable at the same time. “C’mon, Al, we both know what this is; ya don’t hafta feel guilty about it. You paid already, so whatever ya want from me is yours fair and square. This is what I do. It ain’t a big deal.”

Yes, that’s what I was afraid of. Refusing to let his smile slip or otherwise betray how much the statement bothered him, Alastor instead answered, “Good night, Angel.”

The spider stood by in silence while Alastor turned to unlock the room and step inside, but when he tried to shut the door, Angel caught it with two hands to stop him. With a note of something almost like guilt in his voice, he conceded very quietly, “I wanna stay.”

Although it was difficult to believe given the sadness on his face, Alastor found himself a bit shaken by seeing Angel so uncomfortable. Continuing to argue just wasn’t worth upsetting him more. So he took a step back out of the doorway and motioned for Angel to come inside, gesturing absently at the lamp in the corner so it flickered to life and bathed the room in dim red light.

Angel shivered as he crossed the threshold, lending some credence to his excuse of being cold, and his gait was noticeably less self-assured than usual as he made his way across the room to Alastor’s bed. Another moment’s hesitation, and he gestured to the bed. “Can I…?”

“Of course.” Alastor concentrated on shrugging out of his coat and removing his shoes and tie as Angel sat on the bed and toed his own shoes off, then crawled onto the mattress on all fours, coming over to meet Alastor where he stood at the other side.

Sitting up on his knees, sliding the edge of his dress up slightly, he asked, “You wanna help me outta this?”

Oh. Somehow, Alastor had failed to realize that in allowing Angel to stay the night, he was agreeing to something more than just enjoying his company. But at this point, it seemed too late to change his mind.

It took a moment for him to compose himself enough to form a response. “If you like.” His hands came to rest on Angel’s hips, only shaking slightly, and slid slowly downward to the skirt’s hemline, where he froze up again. Angel must have noticed his hesitation, as he tried to smooth the process by leaning in for a kiss. It was quick and soft, as if inviting Alastor to take more if he wanted. And he did.

Since this was something he felt much more comfortable exploring, he focused all his attention on it, capturing Angel’s lips with his own more firmly this time. It felt surprisingly natural to slip his tongue into the spider’s mouth, and the breathless moan Angel let out only encouraged him further. He did have a taste, Alastor found, but it wasn’t actually sweet. Enjoyable nevertheless. Every aspect of this experience was so foreign and fascinating, from the softness of Angel’s chest pressed against his to the heat of his mouth to his hands grasping at Alastor’s shoulders. He tried to pull away at least two separate times before Alastor realized that he should let go. As Angel was catching his breath, the Radio Demon realized he’d been so absorbed in the kiss that he hadn’t noticed deft hands unbuttoning his shirt, and he hastened to close it up again.

“Are you gonna…get in bed with me or what?” Angel managed, collapsing to sit and still panting softly, open-mouthed. The position he was in, long legs folded against the bed, forced his skirt even higher up his thighs. Alastor was utterly beside himself, torn in a way he’d never been before.

He had no idea what he wanted out of this moment. No, that was wrong; the problem was that he had entirely too many ideas. Part of him wanted to pin Angel to the bed and keep his mouth thoroughly occupied for the next hour. Part of him wanted to tear that dress off him and explore every inch of bare skin with his eyes, his hands, his lips. Part of him wanted to pretend he had no anxiety about this matter and spend the rest of the night satisfying his many curiosities about how it might feel to share that kind of intimacy with Angel.

Yet another very loud part was insisting that all the other parts were insane, that allowing anyone that close was asking for trouble, and that the best recourse was simply to throw the spider out, lock the door, and pretend none of this had ever happened. His mind was giving so many imperative all at once that it was impossible to choose which to act on.

“Al?” When Angel’s hand found his arm, he was so high-strung that he immediately jerked away from the touch, reeling back a step or two and struggling to get a hold of himself before he said or did anything he’d regret. Worst of all, Angel looked confused, guilty, even worried about him. “You okay?”

“Yes. No. I—” He let out an entirely mirthless laugh, simply because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. “I’m sorry. You…maybe you should…go.” It was stupid of him to have expected that he could change his stripes, so to speak, that easily. He knew what he was. He knew it didn’t lend itself well to affection of any sort. No one should be forced to put up with that, especially not one of the few people Alastor genuinely cared for.

“Go? But I thought… I mean, did I do somethin’ wrong?” Angel asked, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed but mercifully not making any move to touch him. “I dunno what happened.”

“Nothing. It’s not you.” There he was, making an absolute fool of himself, just as he’d feared. But at the same time, it wasn’t right to make Angel feel as if he were in the wrong. It took all Alastor’s effort to force himself to keep smiling as he continued, “I’m sorry, cher. I’ve never…done this before.”

“What, paid for sex?” Angel laughed, and although it didn’t seem ridiculing, it didn’t help, either. When Alastor didn’t respond, he quickly sobered and realized: “Oh, y’mean you’ve never…at all? Uh, shit, I just figured—hey, it’s fine, though! I been with virgins before; it ain’t a big deal. We can take it slow if ya want.” Somehow, although they were probably meant to be reassuring, the words did nothing to ease Alastor’s anxiety.

“That’s probably for the best.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want to try. Eventually. He was always interested in a new experience, and he did want to be close to Angel. But this evening had already made it quite clear that he had some mental blocks to work around before anything like that would be possible. “I don’t mean to make this difficult for you. I’m sure you were expecting—”

“Alastor.” Angel leaned his head down to catch the Radio Demon’s gaze (which was directed toward the floor), and although his smile was much softer than the wicked grin he usually wore, it still felt genuine. “It’s fine. You’re payin’ for my time and my company, but it’s up to you what you wanna do with it. If ya wanna fuck me, I’m up for it. If ya wanna kiss me again and then see where it goes, I’m fine with that too. If ya just want me to sleep here, I can.” After a moment’s hesitation and with somewhat dampened enthusiasm, he added, “Hell, if ya want me to leave ya alone and go to my own room—”

“I don’t,” Alastor answered quickly, “want that.”

Angel seemed pleased with the concession. “Point is, it’s up to you. Whatever you pick is fine by me. So don’t worry too much about what I ‘expect.’ I’d rather be here with you than off at some shithole motel with a john I can’t trust.”

Meaning he trusts me? That notion made Alastor feel a million times better about the night, all awkwardness and uncertainty included. At the same time, Angel’s assurance that he was in control of their interaction was an immense comfort in itself. Maybe these feelings—comfort, control, confidence—were what he was actually paying for.

Feeling at least somewhat steadier now, he seated himself on the bed next to Angel and leaned in to kiss his cheek, causing his slight smile to widen into something more playful. ‘Something sweet’ indeed. “I do want you to stay the night, ma sucrette. And I wouldn’t say no to more of those kisses.”

“Sucrette? What’s that?”

Tilting Angel’s chin upward and running a thumb lightly across his lips, Alastor replied, “Why, it’s you, sweetness.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but it certainly looked like Angel was blushing as they settled into bed.

Charming.

He moved close under the covers to put himself in Alastor’s arms, and after a moment of figuring out how their bodies fit together in an embrace, there was another kiss. And another. Knowing he wasn’t expected to go any further made it easier for Alastor to relax and enjoy their nearness for what it was. And there was no shortage of things to enjoy about it. He looked forward to discovering and further exploring each one in the days to come.

[tiredleekaz]

Heat Warmer

Here’s a story that’s not an angsty piece of crap! Well— it’s still crap cause when is my writing not 😆.

I kinda just thought of it a few days ago when I was in musical theater without a sweater cause my friend stole my hoodie and I was cold. So basically, my friends always tell me I’m like a human radiator when I give hugs, so when they’re cold they always ask for some huggles.

(also can i just say... jamming to “underneath the tree” 40 days before christmas because it’s a mood and a bop)

Tags: fluff, ticklez

Word Count: 1,715

Summary: It was a cold autumn day and the perfect time to stay inside and be warm. Jason was coming to AJ’s house for some heat as his apartment unfortunately had a broken radiator. Not only was he gonna be nice and toasty, he’s gonna find out a special surprise that AJ’s been hiding from him.

__________________________________________

*ding*

*ding*

*ding*

“Jeez! Alright! Shut up will you!” A short brunette seethed as he swung open his door, glaring into a pair of stormy grey eyes.

“You’re too slow. I could have gotten frostbite!” The male at the door exclaimed, stepping inside like he owned the place.

Rolling his eyes, AJ closed the door with a click, brushing past the taller blonde without a thought. “In only 30° weather?”

“It could happen!” Jason argued as he took off his coat, a long sleeved underneath, and hung it up on the coat rack.

AJ shook his head at his friend’s exaggerations and slid his way over to the couch. He lived with his family, though they were currently gone for the weekend visiting their grandparents. As much as he loved his family, he did not want to join them this time and was lucky to have the entire house to himself. The living room was recorded with a fall aesthetic: reds, oranges, yellow; leaves and autumn-like decor were strewn about the large room.

The beautifully styled fireplace was lit and burning a bright red orange. AJ had already made himself comfortable on the plush sofa by the time Jason finished taking off his outerwear and shoes. The boy adorned a cream, cotton, sweater with grey sweatpants, along with black and white striped, fuzzy, long socks. A soft blanket was wrapped around himself as he leaned back against one of the armrests. Jason smiled at the smaller boy all cozy and warm on the couch. Without warning, he jumped on top of him, squishing the living daylights out of the poor bean.

“wuGh! Get off me you heavy mutt!” AJ wheezed, trying to wiggle out of under the other.

Jason shook his head. He pouted like a puppy would to its owner when not given enough attention, laying his chin on AJ’s chest. His arms wrapped around AJ’s torso, trapping his arms as well to prevent him from escaping.

“I don’t wanna. You’re so warm,” he whined, squeezing AJ like a doll.

The brunette sighed and stared at the white ceiling with a deadpan expression, though honestly he didn’t really care he was stuck in this position. Jason was always the type to be cuddly and touchy, so he was pretty used to it. Jason sighed content lay as he nuzzled his face into the soft fabric.

AJ inhaled and exhaled deeply, starting to get more comfortable with Jason’s lying on him. Just as he was about to doze off, he felt a sudden sensation of coldness under his sweater. A sharp gasp slipped out from his lips as he attempted to lurch away from the cold. His arms squeezed down as much as they could from their held position.

Jason looked up from burying his face into AJ’s chest, a look of confusion spread across. “What.. was that?”

“... what was what?” AJ asked back hesitantly.

The blonde stared at AJ before giving a squeeze along his sides.

“AcK! StOhp!” The brunette squealed without warning, a forced smile on his face.

“No way,” Jason said with a widening grin. “You’re ticklish?”

A wave of heat flushed over AJ’s body, especially in his face as he refused to meet Jason’s eyes that were glowing with amusement. Another pinch was applied to his hips and he tried to twist to the side with a squeak.

“Noho! Plehease don’t!”

Jason’s fingers continued their research by scribbling against AJ’s sensitive skin, gently digging and squeezing along his sides and hips like he was squeaky dog toy. His lips were curved into a smirk as he stared at the blushing and giggling boy in his arms. The sight was honestly the most adorable thing he has ever seen. Even more than when he first saw AJ smile.

“Oh wow, who knew my little toy was so squeaky ~,” Jason cooed.

Curling his fingers, he scratched at the shallow hollows resulting into shriek and bubbly chortles to fall out from the shaking body that was AJ. He tried desperately to turn and wiggle away, but Jason was far stronger than him. Not to mention the the tickling was sapping his energy away. His hips bucked and his legs kicked pathetically while he was attempting to hide his flushing face into the cushions of the couch.

“NOhOHOHahAHAHAh!! noHOo mohOHOHOreHEHEe!!” AJ cried out through his hysterical laughter.

“More? Well if you insist,” Jason chuckled, moving his hands down to AJ’s tender sides while pushing the sweater up his torso.

AJ nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt squeezes on his sides and screeched when Jason decided to blow a raspberry on his tummy. A few tears of mirth glazed over his eyes as he shook his head.

Jason decided to give the smaller boy mercy and released his grip around him. He continued to lay on AJ, feeling his head rise and lower with AJ’s heaving tummy. They lay like that for a couple of minutes until AJ finally regained his breath.

“You suck...” AJ muttered, his voice a little raspy.

“Nah. You love me,” Jason teased, reaching up to pinch AJ’s cheeks.

A rosy red color filled the latter’s face as he frowned and shoved Jason off him, watching his body roll onto the floor. He snorted at the boy’s hilarious landing, curling up and hugging his sore middle.

“You think that’s funny, aye?” Jason groaned, pulling himself up from the other end of the sofa. “I’ll give you something to really laugh about.”

Only a millisecond later, AJ was off the couch and sprinting out of the living room. He sock clad feet pounded against the wooden floors as he ran through different hallways and up the stairs. His breathing was heavy, but despite the racing of his heart, a smile grew on his face along with the glimmering excitement in his eyes. AJ squeezes himself in a corner down a hall hoping to throw Jason off track. Unfortunately his plan did not work.

“Come out, come out wherever you are my little warmer,” Jason’s voice called out. “My hands are getting awfully cold. I promise I won’t do anything bad. Maybe stick them between your arms and sides... keep them nice... and... toasty.”

His footsteps seemed to get quieter with each word, though his voice was doing the exact opposite. AJ held his breath, thinking it’ll help him hide better. He couldn’t see where Jason was but he hoped he was nowhere close to figuring out his hiding spot.

Too bad luck wasn’t on his side. Without warning, he was grabbed and picked up, his arms up in the air as Jason’s hands were underneath them. He almost looked like a cat being handled. AJ squeaked like a mouse in surprise and tried to curl up in a ball in the air, though finding it very difficult to hold himself in that position.

The hands under his arms didn’t do anything but hold him, but even then he could feel the ghostly tickles digging into them. Giggles started to flow out like a waterfall, his eyes squeezed shut as if it would make the tickles go away.

“What’s so funny? I’m freezing here and you’re laughing at me. Tsk, tsk,” Jason clicked his tongue with a smirk. “At least my personal warmer can’t get anyway now.”

Before AJ could try to struggle out of the other’s grip, he was slung over Jason’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His legs kicked uselessly and his wiggling was making him very tired. Eventually he just slumped down and allowed Jason to take away.

They made it into AJ’s bedroom, beautifully aestheticized just as the rest of the house. He was thrown onto his queen sized bed and immediately pinned by Jason’s legs. His body was practically sinking into the pillows and covers he had on the bed because he was just a sucker for comfy, soft things.

Jason pushed AJ’s sweater up his ribs, exposing his ticklish skin, a teasing smirk danced across his face. He didn’t hesitate to dig into the smaller boy’s underarms, grinning widely at the loud squeal he received and cackles followed after. AJ presses his arms against his sides and tried to curl up but his legs were being sat on and this only helped Jason to attack his hairless armpits even more.

“NOhoHoAHAHAAH!!” The brunette shrieked with giggly hiccups.

“Yessss~,” Jason replied back with a smile. “My hands are warming up so fast. I don’t think I ever wanna remove them.”

AJ let out a snort in response and shook his head desperately wanting the tickles to stop, but the same time, somewhat enjoyed the affection. “GEHEHEEHT OHOHOUT!! HHEHheh iHiHi CahHaahn’t!!”

Jason happily obliged to the boy’s request and easily slipped his hands out from under his arms and down to his hips. This caused AJ to screech at the nonstop squeezing and pinch on his hip bones, bucking like a bull when Jason drilled his thumbs into the sensitive spots. He threw his head back with a scream at the sudden raspberry blown on his tummy, his voice losing its sound as the evil blonde evil switched from raspberries to gently nibbling along his sides and ribs.

“PLHEHEHEHAHAHSE!! STHAHAAHPP!! AHAHAHAHAHA TAHAHA TOHOHO MUHUCH!!!” AJ cried hysterically, tears streaming down his face as he weakly shook his head side to side. His body was just a pile of mush by now, having no energy to fight back or even try to.

Jason toned down his attack, but continue with the moderate and soft tickles for a few more minutes until he was satisfied. By then, AJ was embarrassed and a red faced giggly blob. He still giggles after the tickles stopped and even flinched slightly at the hands on his sides that were no longer tickling him.

With a voice as hoarse as having a frog in one’s throat, the male spoke. “I hate you...so much.”

His friend merely laughed and gently ran his fingers through the brunette’s fluffy hair, soothing him like a puppy. “Sure, sure. You say that, but you loved it and you love me.”

AJ couldn’t even swat at the hand petting him. He found the gesture relaxing and was growing drowsy from losing so much energy. Though that didn’t stop the peach blush dusting over his cheeks and nose.

“Shut up...”

The rest of the day they cuddle snuggled on the bed, enjoying each other’s warmth and embrace without question.

[vaxreed]

27 Hankvin

Thank you so much for being patient!!! I hope this is what you were thinking of! 

Hankvin + Meeting at a Support Group AU 

Tw: mentions of past alcoholism and topics surrounding it and the recovery. There’s a lot of inaccuracies but I did quite of bit of research to make it appropriate for fanfic and for the sake of their romance. Shout out to Church and Monica from the HankVin discord with helping me find sources and information.

Feel free to send me more prompts if you’re okay with it taking 30 years

|| Ao3 LINK ||

+++ 

“Hi, my name’s Gavin, and I’ve been clean for 5 years.”

Murmured greetings washed over the small circle. Hank was here for the first time after hitting rock bottom. Connor had pleaded him to get clean after he found him on the floor, pale and a bullet hole a few inches away from his head in the wall.

Connor was patient with this process and took up all his work while he was in rehab. Getting sober was probably the most difficult thing he’s gone through, aside from Cole’s death, which he is still recovering him. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel free from the deep emptiness he has in his chest. That boy was everything to him, and he was ripped away from him. There was no escape except at the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Now, he was in this twelve-step program. He didn’t think they worked, but he had promised Connor he would try. It made him feel like he was weak for needing help like this. It was sad to see so many young people here who were taken by the bottle so young.

The man who was currently speaking seemed about 20 years his junior. He heard him say he was clean for 3 years; it seems like this program kept a tight community that had members from all lengths of sobriety. It also told him that he would be struggle with the itch to drink his sorrows for his entire life.

“I’m gonna cut the bullshit. It’s never easy, but it gets easier. I can go through the liquor aisle and not stop.” After the man finished speaking the group leader asked if anyone else would like to share.

“We seem to have a new member. You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to, but if we can put a name to the face.” the group leader smiled at him and Hank felt the eyes on him.

He felt intense steely gaze of the man who just spoke on him; he felt his fingers fidget.

“Yeah, um, my name’s Hank. I’ve been clean for 3 weeks now.” and people murmured greetings and congratulations. His eyes found it hard to leave the battered stranger. Gavin was it?

“I recommend the new people of our group find a sponsor. There’s an old saying ‘Stick with the winners’ we have plenty of people here who have been at this a long time in their journey you should consider.” they left with goals they wanted to complete and took a coffee break.

The stranger kept eyeing him. Hank had about enough. He strode up to him, paper coffee cup in hand.

“Somethin’ wrong with your eyes?” trying hard to suppress the hostility in his voice.

[mobile readers, beware the read more line]

The man didn’t look phased at his aggression, like he’s numb to it at this point. His eyes instead lit up with curiosity.

“I’ve seen you before.”

Hank stiffened at this. This was supposed to anonymous which was supposed to bring him comfort at not being recognized.

“Calm down, I don’t actually know you, as in we’ve never met. I’m Detective Reed.” giving him a half wave.

A detective? Detective Reed. Hmm he’s heard that name before. Never actually met the man but he’s come up before at the station.

“We’ve spoken on the phone. About the red ice case, you were handling it on the Chicago side.” Finally remembering his voice and the hinted Chicago lilt he had in the words he spoke. His voice held a faint growl that Hank found himself drawn to. He heard it while he spoke during the meeting.

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re kinda famous even on our side.” he reminds him of how grand he used to be. Hank feels a pit of shame of how far he’s fallen.

“Been keepin’ up on your current cases too. Pretty impressive. Enough ass kissin’. Not my style.” If Hank didn’t know any better, he thinks this guy has a bit of hero worship. He realizes in this room they are nothing but people who want nothing more but help and to be clean.

“Yeah? What brings you here?” He almost regrets asking the way Gavin’s eyes avert his.

“Well, guess you could say it’s the same reason I’m goin’ to these meetings.”

Hank nodded in understanding knowing full what he meant. Fowler had tried everything to get through to him. Jumped through hoops to make sure he had a job. He owed everything to Connor and Fowler. Reed, it seems, was given a transfer to Detroit.

He gave the man another once over. Strong jaw, face covered in faint and not-so-faint scars. Lips tantalizing him for a bite and eyes that oozed defiance.  

Gavin smirked as he noticed Hank’s gaze and asked. “Wanna grab a coffee after this?”

Hank felt hot under Gavin’s knowing eyes. His self hadn’t been this good in while. This guy was young and attractive and was giving him some signals. Or perhaps he was reading it wrong and this is how he typically acted. Perhaps he just enjoyed the presence of another cop in this place and wanted to be his sponsor.

“What’s wrong with the coffee here?”

Gavin snorted, “It tastes like it was dipped in ass.”

Hank’s lips curled in amusement and nods as he motions Gavin to lead the way. They left in the middle of meeting; he doesn’t know how much Connor would appreciate knowing he left with the troublemaker of the group. He wondered if coffee really meant coffee. He forced the thoughts out. He was here for help not a booty call. He wouldn’t risk his recovery for anything.

It turns out it was just coffee. Gavin took him to this little hole in the wall place 3 blocks away from the AA building. They sat in a booth in the back, watching as Gavin grumbled a greeting to the waitress.

They sat across one another in silence, seemingly forgetting how to have and hold a conversation. Hank felt the need to fill the silence with something, but Gavin simply sipped his coffee and looked out the window.

“First meeting can be sorta rough, figured you could use a break outside of it.” finally breaking the silence continuing to look out the window.

Hank was taken back by the casual thoughtfulness of the idea. It had been hard being surrounded with that many people and so many of them had been sober longer than he could ever hope. It was overwhelming.

Hank didn’t say anything for a moment.

“You lookin’ to be my sponsor or somethin’?”

Gavin scoffed.

“I’m grateful as hell for my sponsor, she did everything she could to keep me from relapsing.” Gavin took a sip of his coffee and looked at Hank.

“I relapsed once. She found me in my apartment covered in my own puke. Cleaned me up, made me coffee and screamed her lungs out at me.” he laughs at the memory.

“Everyone’s been treating me like glass like any little thing would make me relapse.” Hank understood this very well. He knows Connor means well, and he appreciates his effort, but sometimes he could be overprotective and overbearing.

“But she didn’t. She gave me that tough love I needed.”

“Did you two…” his words heavy with insinuation, Gavin threw his head back and laughed, Hank felt his stomach flip.

“Nah, we’re both too gay for that shit.” once he finished laughing.

“Someone ever tell you you talk a lot?”

“If I had a dime every time someone told me to shut the fuck up…” he joked.

“I’m tellin’ ya to get to the point.”

“I’m tellin’ you I’m not gonna be a nurturing type sponsor. If you’re looking for me to hold your hand, then you should look for someone else.”

Gavin takes another sip of his coffee; Hank watches him with curiosity eager to hear what he has to say next.

“You’re a cop, right? It makes it harder. I know what that’s like. I won’t be nice, but I’ll be there for you. No bullshitting around.”

“That’s the kind of thing I need. I don’t need overbearing or hand holding.”

Gavin smirked. “Well, then got yourself a sponsor.”

The next few weren’t easy, but being Gavin made it bearable. He was right, he wasn’t nice. He was an abrasive arrogant asshole.

But he was there when he needed him. He always picked up the phone at 2 a.m when he was thinking about going to the nearest liquor store and losing himself. Gavin was good at distracting him by starting up arguments about which baseball team was better. Chicago’s or Detroit. 

Hank tells him, “You guys have two teams and still suck ass.” Hearing the feigned offended gasp from Gavin never ceases to make him smile. He looks forward to it.

Hank would always get heated from Gavin knowing which buttons to press. By the time 4 A.M rolled around Hank almost forgot that he woke up in a cold sweat 2 hours earlier with the urge to drink.

They hung out every other day and would see each other at meetings. Before he would dread the meetings only because going there reminded him of far he had fallen. He’s told Gavin this and he watched as his face scrunched up in anger.

“You dumbass. Being there means you’re alive and you’re making your life better for yourself. It’s not failure it’s a God damn success. Every meeting is a fucking achievement.”

The dread turned to excitement. It meant he’d get to see Gavin again. The younger man usually walks in later than he did and would give Hank a quick nod while making a beeline for the coffee. He watches him as he takes the first sip and make a face of disgust. He’s never surprised to see him continue to drink it anyway.

After the meeting they would get lunch and chat about what had happened since they last saw each other. Hank wasn’t a particularly chatty person, but with Gavin it was different.

He remembers talking to Connor about him as they have yet to meet. Connor watched him with wariness.

“Hank…please don’t take this the wrong way.” He starts.

“Spit it out, Connor.”

“Are your feelings for Gavin starting to deviate into something inappropriate.” Hank choked on his coffee, coughing as he felt the liquid go down the wrong pipe. The idea of him and Gavin? They’ve only known each other for 9 months. But it’s honestly the happiest he’s felt since…well. Cole. He’d never be that happy again. But this was close.

Hank was silent after he coughed trying to clear the coffee from his airways.

“What the hell, Connor?” his mouth went dry, the way Connor was looking at him made his fingers twitch.

“If I’m wrong, I apologize.” he said after a moment. Connor wasn’t wrong when it came to picking up on things. Hank hadn’t noticed feelings growing inside him.

He hadn’t noticed the way his eyes would linger on his lips as he spoke. Or how his shaky hands felts so still when Gavin playfully clasped him on the shoulder. How he looked forward to hearing the grogginess in his voice when he calls him at 2 in the morning. The butterflies in his stomach he tried to suppress every time he would see his little arrogant smirk.

“I don’t…know what I’m feelin’.” after thinking about it for a moment.

Connor blinked in surprise at Hank’s honesty. The program and Gavin must have made him a bit more in touch with his feelings.

“Maybe you should tell Gavin.” Connor suggested.

—-That brought them back at the coffee shop for one of their weekly updates. It was mostly just to talk about the game from the previous night, but for Hank he wanted to say something more.

Gavin seemed to have notice the tension in the air. He didn’t say anything. Let Hank have the first say clear the air with whatever he wanted to get off his chest.

After a few minutes of silence, it seems Gavin’s small amount of patience ran out.

“Spit it out already? Did you relapse? Cuz you know that’s okay that’s what I’m here for.” Gavin’s face is determined, and he slides his hand on the table. Hank sees his hand begin to try and reach for his but in the last second plants his palm flat on the table.

Hank resists the urge to reach out but stopped himself too. Instead shaking his head in response.

“No, it’s something else…”

Gavin’s face hinted relief and transitioned concern. His face flashed a certain hardness to it.

“Guess I know what it is. Wanna change sponsors? I get it. It’s fine. Don’t worry you gotta do the best thing for your recovery. I’m not the most nurturing guy or anything and I’m not exactly that fun to hang out with but—”

“Will you shut up for a second?” Hank feeling a hint of annoyance but also wanted to soothe Gavin of his insecurities.

Gavin shut his mouth forehead crease his face confused but willing to listen to what Hank had to say.

“Not to kiss your ass, but you’re a great sponsor. I haven’t been close to relapsin’ since meeting you. You’ve done more for me than I expected. You’re there for me and you’re not as big of an asshole as you let people know. I don’t know we’ve only known each other a few months but….” the look in Hank’s eye said everything he didn’t say and everything he felt.

Gavin stared at him, eyes blown open, mouth hanging slightly ajar. Hank waited expectantly for Gavin to process everything.

“I… have to go.”

Gavin took some bills from his pocket leaving it on the table and leaving without another word.

Hank felt his insides crumble.

—-Connor kept an extra eye on Hank after that. Hank didn’t relapse, just felt empty. Empty at home. At the station. Only 3 days had passed, and he’s heard nothing from Gavin. The alcohol called to him, but he keeps on thinking on the disappointed look on Gavin’s face. It was hard to resist, and Connor was like a hawk, trying to get anything to drink would be nearly impossible.

He shouldn’t have said anything. It was too fast. It was inappropriate. Gavin wanted to help with his recovery and Hank made it complicated with feelings. You weren’t supposed to fall for your sponsor. He ruined everything. A good friend, someone he cared for deeply, chased off by his feelings.

—-

‘Meet me at the diner. Regular time.’

The message from Gavin sent Hank in a spiral of emotions. Gavin was speaking to him again after what felt like forever. What if it was to tell him they could no longer spend time together? Part of him didn’t want to go in fear of rejection. He was fully prepared for Gavin to look at him with a mixture of pity and disgust and tell him to never contact him again.

Before he could decide he was already in his car. Hours had passed and he was on his way to their diner. He spotted Gavin’s car. The man was never early to anything and so being here before he was added to the intensity of the situation.

His stomach is in knots as he hears the familiar bell chime when he enters the diner. There are a few people there already, Gavin sticks out among the rest. His entrance catches Gavin’s attention, the man looks up from his coffee, Hank averted his gaze and found the clock on the wall more interesting than Gavin’s stupidly pretty eyes.

He made it to their regular booth and sat down. The waitress poured Hank some coffee and left them to talk.

Silence was the first noticeable thing. Hank’s mouth dried up not knowing what to say. Anything he wanted to say die upon seeing Gavin.

“I’m sorry.” was the first thing Gavin said finally putting the deafening silence to an end.

Hank doesn’t know what to do with this statement. Sorry for not texting? Sorry for leaving so suddenly last time? Sorry for not reciprocating his feelings?

“For what?” He brings himself to say, voice trying not to crack under the strain of the tension between them.

Gavin runs a hand through the locks of his hair letting out a sigh and eyes starting at his coffee and landing on Hank.

“I don’t know…shit…I’m fuckin’…I don’t do this shit often. I’m sorry for bailing the other day. For not texting. It probably kinda fucked you up. 'Specially after you told me—”

“It’s fine, we all fuck up. You’re here now. Listen, you don’t have to say anything. You don’t feel the same way I get that.”

Gavin’s eyes widen.

“The fuck are you talkin’ about?” a confused look on his face appearance in the lines on his face.

“You’re my sponsor. You’re supposed to support me. Talk to me on the phone. Meet me up to check my progress. I misinterpreted that shit as feelings. I don’t know why a guy like you could ever love, hell, even like a guy like me. Fucked up as I am.”

Gavin’s expression grew increasingly more furious with each degrading thing Hank said about himself until Gavin slaps a hand on the table. It wasn’t loud enough to make Hank jump but to stop his rambling.

“Cut that shit out. You don’t know jackshit about how I feel about you or this situation. Sponsors aren’t supposed to talk to you for hours. They sure as hell aren’t supposed to meet for coffee 3 times a week. They aren’t supposed to think about what shade of blue your eyes are.”

Hank looks at him in hint of disbelief.

“What I’m sayin’ is, I feel the same fucking way. I left cuz I didn’t want you to get dragged down by my issues. Your recovery is the most important and I didn’t know if hanging around me would fuck you up.”

Hank continued listening, each word seemingly replacing the years alcohol had taken from his lifespan.

“I had to talk to my sponsor. She told me to stop being an idiot.” he chuckled at remembering her words. Gavin’s hand moved onto Hank’s. He moved over the table and pressing his lips against the older man’s, letting his lips tell Hank how much he means to him. Hank kisses back once the shock has died down, squeezing his hand in return.

It was everything Hank had hoped for. Gavin’s soft lips and tongue tasted of coffee, cigarettes, and sweet pastries. He could feel the stubble pleasantly scratch against his face. They parted ways once they remembered they were in a public space. Hank’s cheeks pinked by the experience.

“I can’t be your sponsor anymore.” Gavin said with a small smile. The words were soft, but Hank felt sadden at the fact Gavin would no longer hold that title.

“But that just means I can take you out.” Hank replies.

“It means you can fuck me into a mattress now, yeah.” Gavin’s eyes sparked with something Hank can’t quite place.

Hank scoffs, “Who says I’m doin’ the fucking?”

“Always knew you were a pillow princess.” Hank throws his head back and laughs, squeezing Gavin’s calloused hands again, never wanting to let go.

Their forgotten untouched coffee going cold as they continue to talk freely, without the restraints of sponsorship.

[winnipegpatty]

baby just say yes | s.m. one shot

a/n: here’s a cute little one shot, nothing related to the post i made yesterday. just some fun! 

Taylor Swift wasn’t like your idol or anything; she was pretty bad ass though. And you were a sucker for a good concert. So coming to Taylor Swift’s Reputation Tour with your best friend wasn’t exactly a chore for you. Cassy was the true T Swift fan and was, rightfully so, in the middle what she would no doubt call the best night of her life tomorrow morning.

Going to a Taylor Swift concert was never a bad decision, if you catch the drift. She just knew how to perform. She had quite possibly some of the best visuals you’ve ever seen in a live concert, and it was hard not to feel completely engrossed with her and her stage presence. Which is why Cassy hadn’t as much as looked over at you in the 45 minutes that Taylor had been on stage. Her eyes were glued to the singer like her life depended on it. You weren’t much better yourself though. Lights were flashing everywhere, fireworks shot into the sky. And frankly, you felt a little disoriented in the best possible way.

Taylor was singing a shortened version of Style currently, before she finished it out.

“Would you please make some noise for my band!” She screamed, throwing her hands into the air where her band began making their way onto the stage with her.

The tell tale notes of Love Story began playing, and it was suddenly 2008 again. And you were suddenly a middle schooler again, playing on your sidekick phone, listening to your iPod nano.

Despite being eleven years old, this song still had you (and let’s be real, everyone in the stadium) rocking out like you were listening to the greatest hits album of a class rock band. As the chorus of the song came around, it felt like the stadium was literally shaking. Everyone around you was jumping, including yourself. Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone. You and Cassy turned to look at each other, screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs. I’ll be waiting. All we have to do is run. You’ll be the prince. And I’ll be the princess. It’s a love story, baby just say yes. The energy was unlike anything you’ve ever witness before, and the crowd settled just a bit as the second verse came around.

Taylor was on stage going to town with her band, jamming out just as hard as we were. You could tell, it didn’t matter that the song was so old. She wasn’t tired of it. It were her own words, and she was proud of them.

The second chorus came back through, and the crowd upped the ante. Flashing lights were everywhere, and it felt like you couldn’t even see straight. You screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs, not caring who heard you. You flipped your hair a bit dramatically just for the hell of it and you were having the time of your life. It wasn’t until half way through the chorus that you noticed the guy next you slowly creeping closer to you, completely unaware of his own surroundings. He was just up and down, pumping his arms in the air with a beer in his hand. He was faced away from you, and you figured it wasn’t a big deal. He was clearly just enjoying the song as much as you were. Romeo save me, they’re trying to tell me how to feel. This love is difficult, but it’s so real. Don’t be afraid we’ll make it out of this mess it’s a —

You felt a elbow jam into your ribcage completely unexpectedly and your breath shot out in a sharp yell.

“Fuck!” You heard the boy say as he swung around to see you.

You let out a breath for completely different reasons. He was beautiful. Like, a greek god sculpture beautiful. He had these perfectly smooth brown curls and rosy cheeks. His eyes were so kind. He grabbed onto your forearm to steady you. He had fucking gigantic hands.

“I’m so sorry!” He shouted at me, leaning in closer to make sure I heard him.

You nodded stupidly for a moment before coming to your senses, “It’s okay, yeah. No problem.”

It felt like a little bit of a problem, considering your rib cage was throbbing, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Jesus, I’m sorry. I should really be more careful!”

You smiled at his second apology, “We’re just all trying to have fun. No harm,” you shrugged it off.

He smiled at your, finally letting go of your arm. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you a drink.” He was still shouting, even though the song had just gone into the quiet bridge, causing Cassy to look over at you in concern.

“It’s really not a problem,” you smiled at him.

“Please,” he asked, quieter this time. His smile was absolutely blinding and you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him again.

“Well, okay…” You trailed off as he turned away from you.

You expected him to leave to go get a drink. But he only took a few steps away from you, speaking a few words to a tall man in a black shirt. The man nodded before he turned and went in the opposite direction of the stadium’s concessions area. It was weird, but you decided to turn your attention back to Taylor on stage who had just shifted to the song You Belong with Me. You looked at Cassy, who was still staring at you. You just shrugged before you both when back to singing the lyrics along with Taylor.

“Let me see you jump!” Taylor shouted, and again the stadium erupted.

Soon after, the song finished out, screams filling the entire stadium so it was impossible to hear. The lights fell dark, and the stadium full of people quickly went silent. A eerily dark video of Taylor playing remixed clips of old songs began to play in front of you, and you knew something big was about to happen. Next to you Cassy was literally vibrating from excitement. The video ended as Taylor dramatically took her place on a throne, looking like a mother fucking badass queen and she winked, just as the beginning of Look What You Made Me Do came to life.

You felt a hand reach onto your lower back, and you quickly looked over to your friend with spastic elbow, smiling lightly. He handed you a Corona, which you thanked him for before you both returned to looking at Taylor. As the lights came up, and Taylor came through the floor of the stage. The boy dropped his hand from your side, but didn’t make any move to step further away from you.

Deciding to ignore the obvious move to stand closer to you, you simply sipped on the beer and continued to enjoy yourself.

It surprised you every time the boy got hyped up for certain lyrics. Throughout the concert, it was clear that he knew most, if not all, of the lyrics to her songs. He wasn’t drug along to this concert against his will, but was certainly here for his own enjoyment.

“Look at the stage, you’re gonna miss it!” Shawn shouted to one of his friends, right before a giant fucking snack crept in behind Taylor.

“Oh, god, Brian!” He shouted at one point to his friend, “I love when she does this! Watch! Watch! Watch what she’s about to do. God it’s so fucking epic!”

“Listen to the note change, ugh.”

It was odd, he somehow knew what was going to happen before it happened. Like he’d seen it before, but not just once. Like he had to know...more.

About half way into the concert, your curiosity had peaked. He still stood close to you, and you were close enough to touch. You lightly bumped your shoulder against his, and he looked over at you with that blinding smile. He bent down a bit so that he could hear you when you said, “How do you know everything that’s about to happen?”

He looked at you confused for a moment before realization seemed to set in.

“You’ve seen her before, I’m assuming?” You questioned again.

He laughed at that, his head falling back, and hand coming to his chest. “Try over thirty times.”

You eyes blew wide, “What? How is that even possible?”

Shawn laughed again, “I opened for her 1989 tour, hun.”

You stared at him, and then looked back at Taylor. Then you looked over at Cassy, who was completely unaware of these proceedings. Surely she would have recognized a famous person standing next to them, right? She was always up on the latest celeb gossip and stuff. That was her scene, not yours. You turned back to Taylor who was now standing in a beautiful black dress singing a song called Dress. Finally you looked back at him.

“You’re shitting me right?”

His eyes gleamed, “No, I swear to god.”

“Who are you?” You finally asked.

“Shawn Mendes,” he reached out his hand to shake yours. You slowly reached out, in complete shock.

You didn’t know who Shawn Mendes was, if you’re being honest. Not based off pure facial and name recognition, but maybe you’d heard his songs before in passing?

“Nice to meet you,” Shawn said sweetly. “What’s your name?”

You told him your name, still completely lost for words.

“So, you like...sing?”

He just nodded, beaming with pride.

You turned to Cassy, tapping her. She looked at you, and you leaned over to her. “Do you know this guy?” You kind of shouted at her over the music.

Cassy leaned past you to look at Shawn. She smiled and waved before turning back, “Yeah dude, that’s Shawn Mendes.”

You’d never seen Cassy so calm in her entire life. She was feet away from a celebrity and couldn’t care less. It was so out of character for her, but you figured she must have been more interested in seeing Taylor Swift sing than care about some boy singer standing next to you.

You turned back to Shawn, “Guess I’m the only person who had no fucking clue who you are.”

“That’s okay,” Shawn smiled. “I’m nobody special.”

You highly doubted that just based off what little interaction you’d had with him, but you let it slide anyway. Returning your focus to Taylor, you did your best to forget about the utterly gorgeous famous man standing next to you. Shawn, however, seemed to be doing the exact opposite. Instead of saying things to his friends, he now spoke to you randomly. Saying cute comments about something Taylor did on stage to you. His arm was pressed fully against your own, and his heat radiated off of you. People jumped and screamed around you, but the two of you stood still. Connected in some odd way.

“Oh, this is a good song!” You told Shawn as Taylor started singing This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.

“Oh yeah, and she totally kills the stage aspect of it too. It’s absolutely epic.”

And he was right. Taylor completely destroy the stage for the last song of the concert. It was the perfect energy to go out on. Shawn, standing next to you, was singing along with Taylor, his head bobbing up and down. You took the moment to just look and admire him. His jawline and rosy cheeks. The cute hoop earring that you’re just noticing in his left ear. He was a site to see, and his voice was heavenly. So you understood why he must have fans.

Shawn eventually turned to you, smiling when he saw you looking at him. You quickly looked back towards the stage, hoping it wasn’t as obvious as it seemed like it was. He bumped your shoulder lightly, chuckling as he did. You looked up at him, and he looked down at you. You could feel the smile across your face, and frankly your cheeks were starting to ache.

“You know, I’m glad I elbowed you earlier,” Shawn laughed.

You laughed with him before responding, “Well it hurt, so I mean...maybe next time just say hi?”

Shawn nodded, “I can do that.”

Taylor finished her show only minutes later, and you started to feel a sinking feeling in her stomach. A tightening in your chest formed, thinking about how this was the end. The end of a concert always sucked, and post concert depression was always sure to follow. In the moments after such a huge high, a rush of excitement and adrenaline, the low point sucked. But you were thinking about a different end. The end of a night spent with the boy standing next to you. Who still had moved, despite people hustling out of the concert quickly trying to get out before the rush of cars. Cassy was crying next to you and you and Shawn stood completely still for a moment, before he finally turned to you.

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N. I’m really sorry for elbowing you,” He smiled shyly. He paused for a moment, tugging at a few of his curls. “Uh, would you? Could I maybe, give you my number?”

You felt your heartbeat quicken as you smiled at him, “Yeah. I’d really love that.”

tagged: @peacedolantwins2 @fourtristattoos @rosecth @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel 

support me on ko-fi

[niallsstainedcoffeecup]

You Have Chemistry

Harry’s ex shows up after disappearing for eight months.  Harry’s heart battles between his new girlfriend and his ex-girlfriend.  This story is based off of the song “Is She Gonna Be There” by Violet Skies.  Hope you all enjoy. Feedback and Requests are welcomed.  Lots of love!

           The white and gray geese waddled across the dewy green grass.  The chilly winter winds created ripples across the dark water.  Harry’s crystal green eyes sparkled under the bright sun peeking from the fluffy white clouds.  His dimpled grin widened every time his fingers brushed against his girlfriend’s soft hands. Y/N intertwined her fingers between Harry’s thin fingers, embracing the butterflies knocking around her stomach. “Are you excited you woke up early?” Harry smirked. Y/N snorted because she recalled Harry’s fingers stabbing her repeatedly until her exhausted eyes cracked open.  He nuzzled his frozen nose against her warm neck while his muffled whines vibrated against her skin.  He claimed his heart might break if she didn’t join him on his usual morning walk.  Normally, Y/N would’ve shielded herself with Harry’s fluffy white duvet, but Harry’s promises about greasy breakfast sandwiches and morning sex intrigued Y/N. “Who enjoys hiking at the ass crack of dawn?” Y/N grumbled, maneuvering around the breadcrumb piles. Harry chuckled, squeezing Y/N’s hand, “I love you, think about your reward waiting back home.” Y/N hoped that crispy bacon and Harry’s body might be worth the grueling hike. *  *  *  *  *  *  *              Plump water droplets rolled down Y/N’s steaming skin.  Her damp feet pressed against the cold white tile.  Her thumb tucked the soft white towel around her body.  She padded across the small bathroom, avoiding her pile of dirty clothes.  The bathroom door swung open, unleashing the heat trapped within the bathroom.  Harry leaned against his wooden bed frame with his phone pressed against his ear.  A smile unraveled his furrowed brows and forehead wrinkles once his eyes landed on his beautiful girlfriend.  Y/N blushed, ignoring her fluttering lovesick heart.  She shimmied her black underwear up her legs.  Her ears perked up when Harry’s squeaky bed creaked from the weight shift. Harry rolled onto his grumbling stomach, reaching an arm out to wrap around his girlfriend’s waist. “Yeah, we can show up tonight,” Harry croaked out. Y/N swatted Harry’s grabby hands away from her body, “Will you stop it?” “Okay, Jeff.  We’ll see you tonight,” Harry ended the call, tossing his phone behind his head. Y/N giggled, slipping Harry’s black sweatshirt over her soaked hair, “What did Jeff want?” “He invited us for game night,” Harry mumbled, opening his arms for his girlfriend to step into. Harry’s sturdy arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist while his head pressed against Y/N’s lower stomach.  Her fingers raked through Harry’s sweaty curls while her eyes focused on the white walls.  She looked forward to tonight because she enjoyed watching Harry’s competitive nature come out.  She hoped the confidence boost might lead to more late night activities. *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *            Fresh rain coated the slippery cobblestone path leading up to Jeff’s house. Harry’s Gucci slippers squeaked with each step.  Obnoxious pop music blared through the thin brick walls.  Harry rolled his eyes, twisting the unlocked golden knob. Warmth greeted the happy couple before anyone noticed Harry and Y/N’s arrival.  Glenne squealed, sliding across the slick tiles.  She crashed against Y/N’s body with a low oomph.  Harry chuckled, glancing around the room for his best friend.   “H, there you are,” Jeff cheered, clamping a hand onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry nodded, stealing the unopened beer bottle from Jeff’s hand, “I’m here.  When do the games start?” “Harry Styles, always a fan of competition,” That honey-sweet voice startled Harry’s heart. Eight months passed since Harry last heard her intoxicating voice.  Harry spun around, gasping once his eyes landed on his ex-girlfriend’s stunning hazel eyes.  He admired the wavy brown hair cascading down her curvy figure.  He reminisced on nights when he begged her to grow her hair out from the shorter bob.   “Olivia, what are you doing here?” Harry asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She giggled, pecking Harry’s flushed cheeks, “Do you remember that event I planned?  Well, the trip didn’t last as long as we thought.” Harry’s heart sunk, “Oh wow.  Well, I’m glad to see you.” “Me too, are you here with your girlfriend?” She asked, scanning the crowd. Harry nodded, “Yeah, you should join our team. I seem to recall you constantly winning every game we ever played.” Olivia giggled, patting Harry’s arm, “Okay.” Harry shoved his broken-hearted thoughts into the corner of his stressed mind.  He chugged the chilled alcohol while searching for his girlfriend. *  *  *  *  *  *  *              “Hi, are you Harry’s girlfriend?” A tall brunette asked, interrupting Glenne’s story about Jeff’s adventures with Harry. Y/N smiled, “Yeah,” Her mind wondered why this beautiful woman’s face seemed familiar, but she hadn’t met her before. “Hi, I’m Olivia,” The woman wrapped her hand around Y/N’s limp hand. Y/N’s heart hammered against her ribcage. Images and articles flashed past Y/N’s shocked mind.  She realized this stunning girl happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.  Harry never discussed Olivia and his relationship, but she read about it online.  Olivia and Harry ended their two-year relationship because their schedules never seemed to match up.  Harry found Y/N two months later, and Y/N often asked herself if Harry used her as a rebound. “It’s game time,” Jeff shouted, waving everyone into the room. Y/N sighed with relief, “Well, it was lovely meeting you.” “Wait, Harry said I could join your team,” Olivia grinned, patting Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N swallowed down the jealousy bubbling up in her throat, “Great.” Harry plopped down onto Jeff’s expensive white couch with his beer in hand.  Y/N glared, watching Olivia rub her leg against Harry’s legs.  Y/N cuddled into Harry’s side, ignoring Olivia’s attempts at wooing Harry. *  *  *  *  *  *  *              “Harry, you are hilarious.  Do you remember when we stayed up all night playing monopoly?” Olivia giggled, leaning her head onto Harry’s shoulder. Harry chuckled, patting Olivia’s knee, “That was fun.  Should we try to buy boardwalk?” Y/N rolled her eyes, “I don’t know. Olivia, should we try to buy boardwalk?” Olivia shook her head, “No, that’s the worst game move.  Harry, we should grab lunch.” “I’d love that.  Are you free tomorrow?” Harry asked, sitting up straighter. Y/N gasped, pinching Harry’s elbow, “Hey, we planned to grab lunch with my friends tomorrow.” Harry frowned, “Can I get a raincheck?  I haven’t seen Olivia in forever.” “Yeah, can you please let him see me?” Olivia pouted, laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Y/N growled, “Harry, can I speak with you in the kitchen?” Harry nodded, following his fuming girlfriend into the empty kitchen.  Half-eaten mini weenies and pizza lined the marble counters.  Y/N gripped the counter while staring out of the kitchen window at the sparkling stars.   Harry crossed his arms over his chest, “Well, I hope you plan to apologize for interrupting the game.” Y/N’s jaw-dropped, “You think I give a shit about the game?  Are you going to apologize about forgetting me once Olivia walked into the room?” Harry rolled his eyes, “Y/N, you’re ridiculous. If you got over the fact that we dated, then I think you’d like her.” Y/N sighed, “Harry, I’ll try to be nice, but I’m worried.  The girl you dumped because time didn’t work out, now has all of the time in the world.” Harry frowned, striding across the kitchen, “I love you,” His arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist.  He promised his love to her with a gentle kiss upon her plump lips.   *  *  *  *  *  *  *              The laptop whirred inside the silent bedroom.  The comfy white comforter swaddled Harry’s body while Y/N leaned against his bed frame.  The laptop illuminated the dark bags under her exhausted eyes.  Her fingers tapped against the clicking keys while she finished business reports.  Harry’s curls tickled her bare arms, sending chills down her spine.  A soft groan rumbled from Harry’s throat.  Y/N smiled, raking her fingers through his curls. Y/N continued working until Harry’s lusty groans filled the small bedroom.  Y/N blushed, wondering what might be happening in Harry’s dream.   “Olivia,” Harry moaned out. Y/N gasped, clutching her broken heart. For the past two weeks, Harry and Olivia grabbed lunch every day, and Y/N ignored the worries building in her chest. Now, Y/N’s insecurities coated her fragile skin.  Did Harry ever love her? *  *  *  *  *  *  *              “Can we talk?” Y/N asked, stirring the sugar into the steaming black coffee. Harry nodded, setting the spoon onto the kitchen counter.  Y/N sighed, staring into Harry’s worried eyes. “Are you breaking up with me?” Harry mumbled nervously. Y/N smiled, “No, but you moaned out Olivia’s name last night.” Harry’s green eyes widened at the news. This morning, Harry startled awake with guilt festering inside his churning stomach.  He recalled the steamy dream about Olivia, but he hoped that Y/N didn’t notice his cries. “I’m sorry.” Y/N frowned, “H, do you still love her?” Harry shook his head fervently, “No, I love you.  I don’t know why that dream happened.” “Okay, I trust you,” Y/N smiled, pecking Harry’s rosy lips. Harry returned his attention to the sizzling bacon while Y/N helped Harry cook the eggs.  The couple finished cooking breakfast, singing along with the radio. *  *  *  *  *  *  *            Olivia cackled, throwing her head back against Harry’s leather couch. The bubbly water popped inside the aluminum can.  Harry chuckled, leaning closer to Olivia’s body. “I missed spending time with you.  How are things with Y/N?” Olivia asked, biting down on her pink plastic straw. Harry smiled, “She’s amazing.  You’d love her.” “She looks perfect for you.  Do you remember that one time we visited Venice?” Olivia smirked. Harry blushed, “Yeah, but we never seemed to leave the bedroom on that trip.” Olivia giggled, slapping Harry’s knees, “We were quite the pair.  I haven’t dated anyone who matched your skills in the bedroom.” Harry faked a smile, tugging on his aching neck, “Are you dating anyone?” “No, I haven’t dated in a while.  I tried to date once you moved on first,” Olivia frowned, glancing down at her red toenails. Harry scoffed, “I didn’t move on first? Whenever Sarah mentioned you were dating someone new, I started to look a for a new love interest too.” Olivia shook her head, “I couldn’t move on from our love.” Harry smiled, grabbing Olivia’s hands, “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone.” Harry’s ringtone interrupted Olivia’s hand from creeping up Harry’s thigh.  Instead, Harry scooted backward to reach the phone dangling out of his back pocket. Y/N’s message popped up, explaining her horrible mood.  She hoped Harry’s kisses and food would wash away her boss’s rants.   “Hey, you better leave before Y/N returns home. She can’t know that you were here,” Harry mumbled, jumping to his feet. Olivia smirked, “Of course, why are you hiding me from your girlfriend?” Harry rolled his eyes, collecting the sparkling waters from his coffee table, “I’m not hiding you from her.  I’ll see you at Jordan’s party?” Olivia nodded, pecking Harry’s cheeks, “I’ll see you.” Harry wiped the condensation rings from the coffee table.  Olivia searched through her designer bag.  Her manicured fingers wrapped around the pink lipstick, dropping the golden tube onto Harry’s couch.  A sinister chuckle bubbled out from her plump lips while she exited Harry’s house. *  *  *  *  *  *  *            Rain soaked the blonde woman’s flimsy blue blouse.  The brunette man blinked past the droplets brushing against his long lashes.  The blonde woman professed her love for the brunette man.  Her muted words resulted in a passionate kiss shared between the young couple.  Harry shoveled creamy pasta into his mouth while Y/N devoured the garlic bread sticks. “I’m full.  Do you want my leftover pasta?” Y/N complained, rubbing her bloated stomach. Harry smiled, “Sure, can you put them in my fridge?  I’ll eat them tonight after my writing session.” Y/N giggled, pressing her oily lips against Harry’s stubbly chin, “I love you.” Harry’s smile widened as he watched his girlfriend stride into his kitchen, “Jeff missed you today.” “I missed him too.  Did you two write all day?” Y/N yelled, unscrewing her water bottle. Harry nodded, “Yeah, should we switch movies? I’m tired of watching her kiss him in the rain.” Y/N giggled, shuffling back inside Harry’s living room.  She plopped onto Harry’s couch, brushing her hand against the golden lipstick tube. Her eyes landed on the fancy script engraved in the golden tube and her stomach dropped. “Hey, did Glenne visit?” Y/N asked, clutching the lipstick as if it might disappear under her grip. Harry shook his head, “Jeff came alone, why?” “I don’t know.  Maybe because I found someone else’s lipstick on your couch,” Y/N hissed. All color drained from Harry’s shocked face, “What?  Are you sure that isn’t your lipstick?” “No, I don’t own this brand.  Who visited you?” Her mind already knew the answer, but her heart played the fool. Harry frowned, “Olivia and I caught up today.” Y/N gasped, blinking back her hot tears burning her naïve eyes, “You lied to me?  Why? Did you sleep with her?” Harry shook his head, “No, I’d never cheat on you.  We talked about our new lives.  I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like her.” “And lying about her being with you was supposed to make things better?” “No,” Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Harry, do you still love me?” Harry agreed, but her heart seemed to know the hidden truth.  Harry couldn’t love her because his heart belonged with Olivia. *  *  *  *  *  *  *            Heavy clouds blocked the moon’s rays from shining down on the broken couple.  The cool night winds whipped against Y/N’s knees.  Her eyes focused on her stained white sneakers rather than Harry’s sorrowful green eyes.  Even if they discussed their lives, silence surrounded the couple.  Harry scrolled past updates and messages, waiting for the black cab. “Is Olivia going to be there?” Y/N said softly. Harry huffed, dropping his hand against his side, “I already told you that she’d be there.” “I can’t go to this party,” Y/N mumbled, clutching her twisting stomach. “What?  Are you serious?  I told you that I don’t love her,” Harry whined. Y/N nodded, “I trust you, but I can’t watch her fall all over you.  I’m going to hang out with my other friends.” “Okay, let me tell Jordan,” Harry pouted, typing out his excuse. Y/N shook her head, grabbing Harry’s arm, “I’m never the type to keep my boyfriend away from his ex.  You can still go to the party.” “Will you be upset?” Harry asked, eyeing the cab driving down the cobblestone road. Y/N smiled, “Harry, I feel sick when I hear her name.  I trust you, but I don’t trust her.  I can see her motives, and she isn’t catching up to be your friend.  She loves you.” Harry nodded, absorbing the new information. Harry’s heart throbbed within his weak chest because he loved his kind girlfriend, but his heart dreamt about his life with his ex-girlfriend.  Y/N swallowed the lump shutting off her oxygen supply.  A shaky breath parted her painted lips as her heart processed Harry’s reaction.  Her chest held her broken heart together while her hand brushed against Harry’s cheeks. “I love you, but I know how you feel.  I hope you it works out this time,” Y/N breathed out. Harry frowned, cupping Y/N’s hand, “I love you.” Y/N nodded, “I love you too.” Loose gravel crunched under her worn sneakers. She focused on her ragged breathing while the small neighborhood seemed to crumble around her.  Her heart shattered into a billion pieces once she stepped away from Harry’s life.  Hot tears streamed down her cheeks while her fists rubbed the salty liquid from her face. She lost the battle for Harry’s heart.

[theinkquiry]

Christmas at the Tower

Prompt: Quick snapshots of what’s going on at Avengers Tower this Christmas

Starring: Peter and Tony, Steve and Bucky, Clint and Nat, & Thor and Loki

A/N: I haven’t posted in a ridiculously long amount of time, but I decided to get my ass in gear for the holidays. I hope you guys have a wonderful rest of 2018 and get lots of great gifts this year!

December 24th, 11:59 PM- Iron-Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

Tony yawned as he watched his bots drill in the final pieces on his new Reindeer Revolver 2.5. A t-shirt launcher style machine that could fire reindeer plushies with maximum speed, silence, and accuracy. That’ll show Barton. He grabbed his mug and tried to take a big gulp, only to be met with a few cold drops of coffee and disappointment.

“FRIDAY, whip me up a fresh brew.” Tony put down the mug and rubbed his eyes.

“Apologies, Mr. Stark. Mr. Parker has insisted you get a good night’s rest instead.” The AI replied. Tony could hear the smugness in her robotic voice.

“Since when did the kid-”

“He’s here, Mr. Stark.” FRIDAY cut him off.

Right on cue, the elevator chimed. Tony swiveled around just in time to see a tinsel-covered Peter barrelling towards him. He barely had time to get up before he caught the boy in his arms. A crinkling package the size of his upper body blocking most of his view.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Stark!” Peter hopped back, holding out his slightly crushed gift.

Tony took the package off the boy’s hands with a chuckle. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, kid?”

“I wanted to be the first one to give you your present. Aunt May helped me with the wrapping, but I picked it out and put the bow on top.” Peter pointed to the little robots wearing Santa hats. He looked up at the man with bated breath.

Tony shook the package back and forth, holding it up to his ear. “Is it… a new robot?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Come on, Mr. Stark, just open it already!”

“Alright, alright. Here we go!” Tony peeled off the tape, trying not to ruin the packaging. Taking a look at Peter, he tore open the wrappers faster. The boy looked like he would combust if Tony didn’t open it right that moment. Leaving the loose paper on the floor, he held up a familiarly dressed teddy bear.

“It’s you!” Peter exclaimed. “At first I thought it would be kinda dumb, but then Build-A-Bear just had to go and release the new Ironman bear. But when I went it was like, totally off. They couldn’t even get your hair right, so I got a regular bear and did it right. If you press the arc reactor, it’ll make laser noises. Isn’t that cool?”

Peter seemed to shrink as he rambled on. The poor kid, Tony thought. He was at a loss for what to say. He put in so much effort just to get a bear to look just like him. It had the little sunglasses and a tiny suit and everything. And true to his word, the arc reactor let out sound effects upon being pressed.

“This is, by far, the most handsome bear I’ve ever seen. Wouldn’t you agree, FRIDAY?” Tony held it up for inspection.

“Indeed, sir,” FRIDAY responded.

“You really like it?” Peter clasped his hands together.

Tony nodded and pat his head. “Of course I do! Look at this guy, he’s just like me! Only thing missing is a little matching spider-son bear. Hey, FRIDAY remind me to get that in the works tomorrow-”

“On it, sir.”

“-Thank you for the gift, Peter. I really appreciate it. This is by far going to be the best gift I’ve gotten.”

Peter looked like he was going to burst into tears. “I’m so glad you like it, Mr. Stark.”

“Aw, don’t cry on me kid. C’mere.” Tony opened his arms for a hug and was promptly tackled to the floor by the boy. It wasn’t as soft as he’d expected, but he laid there on the floor and hugged Peter as tightly as he could. He didn’t even mind breathing in the tinsel and aroma of burnt cookies from his holiday sweater.

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter scratched his head after helping the older man up.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. These kinds of reflexes are what makes you a top mark Avenger,” Tony grinned. Peter’s smile alone could have made ten Christmasses for the billionaire. “Say, why don’t we go up for some late night cocoa, get some rest, and then you can help me put the finishing touches on my Reindeer Revolver tomorrow morning?”

“Really?” Peter’s mouth was agape.

“Sure!” Tony nodded. “Your Aunt May can help too. She makes the best gingersnap cookies, I swear.”

The two stepped into the elevator and rode it all the way up to the main living space. A twinkling tree and pile of gifts greeted them upon entering the room. Tony pulled out two mugs as Peter fished out the cocoa powder and milk.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Stark.”

“You too, kid. You too.”

December 25th, 8:00 AM- Two Old Hoots

It wasn’t exactly the most traditional thing to be out and about on Christmas morning. Everyone was probably back at the tower enjoying the premium heating and eating chocolate chip cookies for breakfast. Part of him wanted to be back there with them, laughing and celebrating, but another part of Steve told him that he needed to be here. Walking around Central Park on the jolliest day of the year all by himself.

It was tranquil and cold. It had snowed just two days ago, covering the park in fluffy white flakes and crystal ice. There wasn’t a single soul in sight, except for the occasional squirrel and bird. Deeper into the park, the city noises faded away and all Steve was left with was his own thoughts and the whispering wind.

Here it felt less like he didn’t belong. It was familiar, even if a lot has changed in the park itself as well. He could close his eyes and imagine the winters he used to know. Him and Bucky sledding down hills and collapsing in a giant pile of stitched jackets and snow at the bottom. Peeking through shop windows for toys that they couldn’t afford. Sitting near the fireplace and talking about nothing for hours, huddling closer for warmth.

Opening his eyes and being greeted with none of it. Sometimes Steve was so confused on how he felt about just existing. If he really was supposed to be here, or if he should have just spent another Christmas taking an ice nap. He exhaled, releasing a single cloud of cold breath into the air.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

Steve turned his head. A few steps behind him stood Bucky, wrapped up in a giant knit hat and scarf. His hands shoved into his pockets, and hair covering part of his face.

“How’d ya know?” Steve went back to gazing at the frozen lake.

He heard Bucky stand next to him and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Call it intuition or years of training as the perfect tracker.”

Steve let out a single snort.

Bucky sighed. “We missed you at the tower this mornin’. I figured you just needed to clear your head. Presents already got opened though, so I figured I’d bring yours to you.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow and Bucky fished out two rectangles from inside his coat.

“It ain’t everything. Peter got you something the size of the tree, and I wasn’t gonna lug it all the way out here for your sorry ass. But these two are from me.”

Steve snorted. “That’s one way to start a Christmas.”

“Says the guy who got up at the crack of dawn to mope in a park.” Bucky elbowed the supersoldier. “Now are you gonna open ‘em?”

He gingerly unwrapped the package, revealing a picture frame. Turning it around, Steve gasped. “It’s…”

A very old photograph was tucked between the glass. Steve hadn’t seen it in decades. He recognized it as an old picture from his youth with Bucky. The two goofing off and having the grandest old time at Brighton Beach. His ma used to have it up near the radio back in the old Brooklyn apartment.

“Tony helped me track it down. I figured you could use it just about now.” Bucky squeezed his shoulder. Steve rested his head on his chest, letting a few rare tears escape from his eyes.

“It’s perfect, Buck.” He clutched the frame close to his chest and felt a wave of emotion sweep over him.

“Don’t you want to open up the other one too?”

Steve wiped away the tears with his sleeve, laughing. He handed over the first gift to Bucky while opening the second one. It was another picture, except taken in the 21st century. A snapshot of mornings at Avengers Tower. Taken by Peter, by the looks of it. The young boy tried to get into frame while holding the camera, only managing to capture the top half of his face. Steve knew he was smiling though. In the corner, Stark was scrolling through his phone but looked up just in time to shoot a casual smile. Nat had one of her friendlier blank faces on as she sipped on a cup of tea. In the back, Bruce and Thor could be seen chatting animatedly about something while Clint stuck his tongue out, holding a mug that read “Best Bird Dad.”

And right in the middle was Steve and Bucky curled up on the couch. The latter still grumpy from being woken up too early, but Steve was smiling.

Looking at it, he was overcome with a strange sense of peace. It didn’t feel like the good old days, but it did feel like home.

He looked up at Bucky, puzzled. The man only shrugged. “I know you miss it. The simpler days. Trust me, I know how you feel. We’ve lost so much and we’ve struggled. I don’t know how to explain it all that well, but I know that we ain’t alone.”

“Bucky…”

“I miss ‘em too. My ma, your ma, Becky… I know it’s not the forties anymore, but I just wanted you to know that you’ve still got a family. And you’ve still got me.”

Steve took another look at the two pictures. He still got a family.

“Now let’s head back before Tony eats all of the cookies. Peter said he saved some for me, but that kid’s big heart leads to trouble. All Tony needs to do is flash his sad dad eyes.”

The two burst out laughing as they headed out, hand in hand.

“Maybe it’s a sign that you should lay off the sweets then, punk.” Steve punched his arm.

“Jerk.” Bucky shoved him.

Walking back to the tower, Steve’s heart felt lighter.

December 25th, 2:39 PM- Reindeers, Hawks, and Spiders

Fwoop!

“Ow! That is it!” Clint stomped his foot and got up from the couch. A plush reindeer fell from his lap. Scooping it up, the archer marched down the hall and knocked on Natasha’s door ten times.

Nat opened the door to find a fuming Clint. “Merry Christmas to you too, Barton.”

“Cut the bullshit, Nat. I need your help.” Clint invited himself in and sat down on the purple beanbag chair. Nat had to buy it after the thirtieth time Clint came barging in like this.

Nat looked both ways in the hall before shutting her door. She was just in the middle of a movie marathon and a piping hot cup of jasmine tea. “What can I do that Prancer there can’t?”

Clint scoffed. “First of all, this is Vixen. You can tell by the antler shape. Second of all, revenge.”

The redhead stayed silent, making exaggeratedly loud sips.

“Stark’s stupid reindeer gun has been pelting me with these freaking deer all day long! All because I left one on his desk.”

“Really. Just one?” Nat didn’t sound convinced.

Clint whistled. “Yeah, one… every day for the entire month.”

Nat groaned. “This was your own doing!”

“Come on, Nat! You gotta help me. I got like, twenty in my room alone! I can’t even leave a room without being pelted in the face with one of these.”

“What do you want me to do?” Nat folded her arms.

Clint thought for a moment. “Stark has a little spider minion. Now it is time for me to recruit one of my own.”

“You do realize that, unlike Peter, I can’t shoot webs?”

“Oh don’t worry Nat,” Clint rubbed his hands together. “You don’t need to…”

Tony checked the lab, his room, and even the freezer. Peter was nowhere to be found. Not that the kid had to be next to him at all times, he just had a habit of always being near Tony. Especially when they’re in cahoots like they are now. Peter had been helping the man get Clint back for all the deer pranks. Something told him that not all was right in the Tower. It was way too long since Tony had run into Clint or Peter. In fact, Nat seemed to have disappeared as well. When Tony came by to deliver another batch of cookies, the spy was missing from her usual obscure Russian Christmas movie marathon. He re-entered the living room, coming face to face with the prankee himself.

“End of the line, Stark.” Clint held up two reindeer plushies by their hind legs, pointing them like guns.

Tony drew up his launcher. “I would be very careful with those, Barton.”

The tension in the air was palpable. The two men stared the other down, all the while guarding their weapons. Tony could only fire three plushies at a time. He’d need to go back to the lab or his office for refills. There was actually a sack of three dozen more behind the tree, but Barton didn’t need to know that. The price he had to pay for easy transport. Clint, on the other hand, had at least five more shoved under his sweater, but he would need to successfully hit each time. He may be a good shot, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be faster than an actual deer blaster.

Peter was having the time of his life. He didn’t know what miracle made it come true, but God or Santa must have been real that Christmas day because Natasha finally let him decorate her sweater!

“Aren’t those supposed to be used for Halloween?” She asked as he glued plastic spiders onto her red sweater.

“Yeah, but they fit your aesthetic.” Peter pointed out.

As he stood back to admire his work, which was a ton of spiders with smiley faces on them dancing around a sign that read I hope your Christmas is Deadly Fun!

Even Nat had to admit it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. The sound of glass breaking upstairs and a lot of shouting ruined the mood, though.

Peter could feel his Spidey sense go off as he rushed upstairs. The redhead trailed not far behind.

Upon entering the room, it was clear that they had just witnessed the aftermath of a war zone. Piles of reindeer plushies littered the floor. Tony and Clint lay on the floor, covered in Comets and Dashers. A few ornaments were knocked down from the tree, making a giant glittery mess on the floor.

“He started it!” They both shouted at the same time. Peter laughed, taking out his phone to get pictures as Nat shook her head.

“You two are cleaning this mess up.”

December 25th, 7:00 PM- You’re a Green One, Mr. Loki

“I don’t understand why we need to do all of this,” Loki grumbled as Thor plopped an elf hat on him. The younger sibling hadn’t quite taken to the holidays they celebrated on Midgard like his older brother. Upon learning of this fact about himself, the young Spider-boy had dubbed him ‘Mister Grinch’ and got a very good laugh out of everyone from it.

Loki only frowned. They were on their way to visit the Avengers for Stark’s holiday get-together, but the God of Mischief was dragging his feet.

“Come now, brother. Our friends are expecting us. The young lad Peter expressed to me his desire for you especially to join them again this year.” Thor said.

“Really now?” Loki scoffed. “And for what, to unveil to me more names of mockery?”

Thor only grinned. “I know you hold a soft spot in your heart for our Midgard friends. Let us go! You’ll surely feel the spirits of the holidays once we arrive!”

“I don’t think that’s what they meANT!” Loki yelped as Thor whisked them away with his hammer to Midgard.

Upon arriving at the tower, the pair were greeted with raised glasses and hugs all around. The latter coming mostly from Peter.

“Merry Christmas, my fellow Avengers!” Thor’s voice boomed. Loki slunk behind, trying not to draw so much attention. It seemed to work for the most part, as the heroes were all crowding around Thor.

Natasha walked up to him. “Did you bring the God Mead?”

Thor held out the bottle. “Yes, but I’d recommend extreme caution if you were to drink it. It could bring trouble to your tiny mortal bodies.”

“That’s just what I need.” Nat took it and went to pour herself a glass without another word.

Everyone else seemed to be having a blast on their own. Barely sparing a glance at the man all alone and brooding in the corner. The little boy-spider, however; was not as keen to leave him alone.

“Mr. Loki!” Peter rushed up to him. “I got you this!”

Loki didn’t have time to react as Peter put a felt hat in his hands. Unfolding the fabric, he could see that it was another elf hat with the words God of Mischi-ELF embroidered poorly onto it.

“Get it?”

Loki did not, but nodded anyway to spare the boy his feelings. This seemed to work, as Peter continued to talk about lots of other things at a very rapid pace. He could see how he was beginning to take after the antics of Stark.

“I wasn’t gonna sew it on, but I thought I could give embroidery a try and let me tell you, it was not easy. I looked up like thirty different YouTube tutorials. Aunt May tried to help, but I was too far gone by then. Still, I don’t think this was bad for my first time.”

“I could teach you.” Loki knew not what forces prompted him to speak those words. Yet, seeing the young boy’s face light up made a form of pride bubble up inside him.

“Really?” Peter whispered. “You know how to do embroidery?”

Loki shrugged. “Sure. My mother taught me.”

“Wow, Mr. Loki! Thank you so much! Wait ‘til Ned hears about this. I get to learn to embroider from a God!” Peter scurried off to hand Thor a similar hat that read Holly, Jolly, Godly on it.

As discreetly as he could, Loki quietly replaced the hat he was already wearing with the one Peter made for him. Looking at himself in the window reflection, the trickster though that it didn’t look half bad.

“Alright, everyone! Time for pictures!” Tony called. “You too, Mischi-elf.”

Gathering around the tree, Loki sulked in silence as Stark, Clint, and Steve bickered on how best to execute the photo.

“Nice hat.” Natasha appeared next to him.

Loki stared at her sweater curiously. “I could say the same for your Earth garment.”

“Peter.” She answered. The two shared a smile right as they announced the photo was to be taken.

Although it still looked like Loki was being his usual gloomy self in the photograph, if one looked closely they could see the faintest hint of a smile.

[artswaps]

If You Will Promise Me Your Heart

Read on AO3

This is my fic for the @voltronrarepairflashbang​, and for it I was paired with the super talented @ectogoo​ who illustrated the CUTEST most incredible thing!! Here is the link to their art!!

Special shout out to my friend C, who doesn’t tumblr but acted as a beta for me.

Title is from For the Dancing and the Dreaming from HTTYD2 because it’s a cute song 

Title: If You Will Promise Me Your Heart

Pairing: Allura/Keith/Lance (Kallurance)

Rating: Gen (no warnings apply)

Summary: Altea hosts a tournament where knights can compete for Princess Allura's hand in marriage. Allura is bored by the entire ordeal and unimpressed by the contestants. That is until, young knights Lance and Keith come stumbling in and capture her interest... even if they introduce themselves by falling over the castle wall and crushing her favourite flowers.

Read it under the cut or on ao3

****

Princess Allura was not opposed to marriage. She was of age and had long accepted her duty to the Altean kingdom as King Alfor’s only child and heir to the throne.

Still, regarding the upcoming tournament her father had arranged- wherein noble-born knights from Kingdoms far and wide would compete for her hand- she found herself bored out of her skull. At the end of the ordeal she would choose between the victors, but every contestant who’d introduced themselves so far had been insufferably dull at best. At worst, pompous and dripping with insincere flatteries.

The past few days had been an exhausting whirlwind of new faces, none of which she wanted to become familiar with. She’d given up thinking there was anyone in the horde of suitors the least bit exciting. Allura couldn’t take one more stuffy old knight rattling off his list of ‘unrivalled accomplishments’ in an effort to impress her.

She’d slipped by her guards and taken reprieve in her garden, crouching down to admire her prized bush of juniberry blossoms. Allura took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp evening air and the rare moment of quiet.

It didn’t last.

A hushed commotion broke out from the other side of the castle’s wall, spoiling her stolen moment of peace.

“Lance! Get down,” one voice said in a heated whisper.

“I’m telling you,” the other hissed back, “this is the quickest way to the kitchens!”

Allura listened in warily, eyes narrowed. Were thieves trying to break in?

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if- Lance!”

There was a sudden shout, and a figure crashed heavily to the ground at her feet.

Directly on top of her favourite flowers.

Allura yelped in alarm, jumping backwards. The intruder rubbed their backside tenderly before looking up. The moment he saw her, his jaw dropped open.

They stared at each other in startled silence. Then, bewilderingly, the young man reached behind him and plucked one of the ruined blossoms.

“A flower for you, my lady,” he announced, presenting the crushed blossom to her with a bright, shameless grin. Allura blinked. Wordlessly, she took the flower, watching dumbfounded as a petal broke off and fell sadly to the ground.

Um, Allura intelligently thought.

A voice from above shattered the awkward moment. “Lance! Are you okay?”

She snapped her head up to see the owner of the second voice, their shaggy black hair and pale face peeking over the top of the wall. The person took in the scene, and when he spotted her he froze, dark eyes widened in awe.

“Um,” Allura said.

The person’s face flushed red, and with a strangled squeak he darted back out of view.

There was shouting in the distance; the guards hearing the small commotion and rushing to find her. The intruder at her feet scrambled upright, bowing messily as he retreated the way he’d come. “Farewell, beautiful maiden! See ya ‘round!” he laughed, then spun around and made a mad dash to scale back up the wall and out of sight.

Allura stood in stunned silence long after they’d left, flattened flower still held in one hand.

Well, she thought. That was certainly an interesting encounter.

*

Over the next few days, she learnt these things;

Their names were Lance and Keith. Both were knights hailing from rival kingdoms, though that rivalry did not seem to deter them from forging a close friendship.

Keith could always be seen with a sword at his hip. Lance was apparently adept with a broadsword, but she’d heard wind that above all he was a gifted archer.

They were younger than most of the suitors that had gathered for the tournament and… lacked decorum, to put it kindly. Whenever Allura wandered into the training facilities that were free for use between events- where despite her frequent visits, she noted, she’d never once seen the duo - she was met by knights bowing stiffly as she walked past, or else clamouring for her favour with apathetic, silver-tongued flatteries.

Keith and Lance, on the other hand, regarded her more informally.

She’d often see them lounging around the grounds. Lance, who always seemed to be pressed against Keith’s side while he talked his ear off, would stop mid-sentence to wave to her, grinning widely. He’d brazenly call out a greeting which she never answered past a curt nod.

(Though she couldn’t quite stop herself from returning his smile.)

Keith was more reserved, glancing away whenever they made eye contact. The way his scowl would soften whenever they crossed paths didn’t escape her notice, nor did the tiny, flustered smile that met his lips.

Perhaps some would consider their manner impudent. Allura found she didn’t much mind.

*

Instead of preparing for their events, apparently Keith and Lance had spent their time here befriending two of the stable hands, Pidge and Hunk. Allura had wandered down to the stables one morning and was met with a ridiculous sight;

Keith and Pidge were perched high on the others’ shoulders, whacking at one another other with wooden training swords as Lance and Hunk stumbled around in a messy circle.

“Princess!” Lance greeted, turning abruptly to face her so that Keith was left careening for balance. “You wanna referee?”

She paused. There was a meeting she had to be at soon, and she didn’t have time for childish games.

Pidge swiped at Keith while the two knights were distracted, and his arms pinwheeled as he toppled forwards into the other two. Hunk’s arm flailed and caught Allura heavily in the shoulder, and she stumbled along with them.

All five of them toppled over into a heap of tangled limbs, and for a moment they lay there, groaning. Allura sat up on bruised elbows. Her gown was stained with dirt, her perfectly styled bun unravelling into wisps of white around her face.

Laughter bubbled unrestrained from her chest. The sound was carefree in a way she hadn’t felt since she was little, before all her spare time became folded away into duty and diplomacy.

The laughter caught, until they were all lost in it.

*

The archery event had been dragging on for hours, and Allura was falling asleep. The competitors were mediocre at best- spending long minutes lining up their shots with underwhelming results. She sighed, fidgeting in her seat and forcing herself to sit up straighter.

Someone sat down heavily in the chair beside her, and she turned to see Keith, his arms crossed and glowering down at the arena below them.

Allura blinked, taken aback at his bold behaviour- to sit by the princess without invitation was an audacious action. Still, she found that she wasn’t particularly inclined to dismiss him. He cleared his throat, glancing at her awkwardly out of the corner of his eyes.

“You know,” he started, trying too hard to sound casual. “Lance is really good at this. Best I know.”

The tips of his ears reddened as she remained quiet. A smile curled her lips.

“Are you perchance trying to endear your friend to me, sir Keith?” she suggested, a teasing lilt to her voice. He turned to face her, his brows pinched nervously.

“Is it working?” he asked. He sounded earnestly hopeful, and Allura was startled at the flicker of fondness she felt at the endearing display. She looked back to the arena.

“We’ll see,” she said, coy.

Keith didn’t try to make conversation for the remainder of the event, but she rather enjoyed his quiet company.

*

Keith hadn’t been exaggerating Lance’s skills. He’d outshone all his opponents and won by a landslide, and for the first time since the tournament had started, Allura found herself genuinely impressed as she applauded.

She told him as much after the event.

“Oh, that was nothing,” Lance dismissed with a flustered laugh, though he looked delighted by the compliment. “You should see Keith joust; that’s impressive.”

She hummed curiously, prompting him.

“He’s only like, the best. Wins every time. He’s so cool and funny and attractive-”

“Attractive, hmm?” she smiled slyly.

To his credit, Lance’s cheeks only went a little pink. “Well, yeah, have you seen him?” he said.

Allura had. She didn’t consider herself a shallow person but, well, yup. There was certainly a lot there to appreciate.

She wasn’t here to fawn over Keith right now, though. (That could wait for later.) She leaned into Lance’s space until her lips grazed his ear. He swallowed.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sir Lance” she said quietly, and then turned on her heel and calmly walked away, hiding her wicked grin from view as Lance was left flushed and stammering in her wake.

*

Keith was unbeatable in the jousting event, dealing swift victories over all his opponents. His form, though near-perfect, had faltered once or twice. Allura was certain it was because he’d noticed her watching him; she could see his reddened ears all the way from the stands.

The thought made something in her chest curl in delight.

*

The tournament drew to a close, with Keith and Lance the only two left standing. As per the arrangement, Allura would be expected to choose one of them to ask for her hand.

The cheers and applause of the arena died down as she ascended the steps of the dais, where the two knights were waiting for her in a kneel. Calmly, without fanfare or hesitation, she walked to them and placed a hand on both of their shoulders.

They looked up at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, and she nodded her confirmation with a warm smile.

She saw no reason to have to choose.

Keith and Lance rose to their feet, grinning wildly as the crowd cheered. As they each took one of her hands and planted a soft kiss to her knuckles, Allura threw her head back and laughed with joy.

She had a feeling life wouldn’t be quite so dull anymore.