#it's like asking for a slice of pie and getting the whole damn thing

[coleoffduty]

the way i had three more acts for chp 11 but had to push it back because of how high the word count already was,,,, you readers subscribed to legacies are godsent honestly,,,,,,

LEGACIES UPDATE- *faints*

I am so so so so so so happy about this and i'm going to read the whole fic again tonight during enrichment time before bed 🥰‼️

[avocado-writing]

hi hi! these prompts are so sweet - could I please send you "did you eat today?" + logan? I feel like he was on his own for so long and probably ate like shit (so might be soft when he’s asked if he’s taking care of himself like this?) 💖 thank you so much! Your request drabbles are all so stunning!

it's been a long while since logan was this looked after.

after everything that happened in the mansion he just didn't think he was a person worth receiving any kind of care, especially self-care. no. a man like him deserved to be punished for what he did, and a bottle to his lips every night was his self-flagelation. the years of alcohol put his body through hell, and food? well. it's been a long time since he ate something which didn't come in a greasy wrapper or needed to be nuked in the microwave.

if he were a normal man, no metal in his bones or healing in his genes, he'd be outright dead. as it stands when wade turned up, mentally and physically, he wasn't in great shape.

that is until he met you.

"did you eat today?" is a question he became accustomed to from your sweet little mouth. a concerned friend of wade's met on a lazy afternoon in the apartment, all smiles and soft edges, brow near-permanently creased in worry as you'd asked him when he'd last had a meal (and the answer was usually too long ago to be satisfactory). then without missing a beat you'd get to work feeding him. stealing eggs from wade and al's kitchen to whip him up an omelette, fixing him a sandwich if needs be, once you made a whole damn pie and sat there watching him devour slice after slice.

in fact, it wasn't long before you just started inviting him over for dinner, and then dinner became dinner dates, and then, well. that became him moving in.

your cooking is exceptional. that isn't just him being kind to the person he's sweet on, it's true. he doesn't know how you can put the same slices of bread together he does yet somehow make them taste like they've come from heaven but you do, day after day. just another little miracle from your never-ending supply of them. even now he's still not certain if he's deserving of your attention, your effort, your time, but you won't hear any pushback from him about it. these things are feely given to him, just like your heart is.

he knows what you really mean when you say "have you eaten today?" you mean, "I love you". you mean, "you're a person who's worth caring about."

he wraps his arms around your waist as you stand at the stovetop stirring a homemade stew. the smell drifts upwards and makes his mouth water, spiced beef and fine-diced vegetables never seeming so good. you laugh as he buries his face in your neck.

"you eaten, baby?" you ask.

he hasn't. but he'll get there.

[yowyowyaoi]

Itachi’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Konan

Nobody eats until you come out and eat with us 😤

Thank you! You’re the only one who even noticed 💙

You need to do a better job of hiding that kitten lol  it pushed open your door and walked down the hallway again

Of course! You know where I keep it you don’t even have to ask 😊

I know I’ve spoken to Nagato about them he’ll handle it

You have GOT to come try this new massage chair I got it’s heaven 😌

From Deidara

Come on I was just kidding!!

Please call him off if he bites off my hand again Sasori said he won’t replace it 😔

Sharingan is not art it’s dirty cheating 

The counter is covered with plates of eggs, did you do that weird sleepwalking thing again?!

Me and Hidan and maybe Tobi. Come on take the stick out of your ass and just come with us!

I’ll paint them if you braid my hair first.

Why do you always blame me?? Hidan probably took it!

Omfg I SWEAR I meant that for Sasori!! 😳 Please please don’t show Kisame he’ll kill me 😫

From Zetsu

He’s just so emotional is that an Uchiha trait?

I can literally smell your exhaustion you need to go and rest

Yeah very cute. Be a shame if someone ate it 👀

He was doing fine. Got a lot taller. Looks a lot like you in the face.

No I’m glad you made him leave that dude freaked even ME out 😵‍💫

From “Tobi” aka Obito

Can I borrow your face cream? This mask makes my skin itch like crazy!

God stop it man are you TRYING to speed up going blind?!

Would he take your last name or would you take his? 🤔

No. Never. They think I’m a dumbass, remember?

Little more time in the sun would probably help 🤷🏻‍♂️

“Crushes” are for little kids. And anyway he hates me 😔

I thought about that yeah. Reminded me of your mom’s. She always made the best ones.

I’m not sure of anything kid. But we’re in it too far to back out.

Idk you just looked super pale

Ask Sasori to make you more, they’re helping a little 

Idc what Zetsu says. I can do a lotta shit but cannibalism isn’t one of them 🤢

You think I didn’t see you sneak in that pie? Either share or I’m telling Kisame.

From Nagato

Come and join Konan and I for tea. We’ve got a new blend we think you’ll like.

Permission granted. Just be back within three days, I’ll be sending you two on a mission then.

Thank you for the tips. My eyes feel much better now.

Take your time reading it. When you finish I’d love to discuss some of the themes with you.

I know you dislike meat but perhaps a bit more protein might help improve your stamina.

I don’t mind but do not let Kakuzu see it.

From Hidan

Movies with me and blondie?

Yeah but he’s half-animal right? Still counts, pervert.

PLEASE make the splinters in the ass joke PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU😭😭😭

If I didn’t take a piece you would have ate the whole fucking thing yourself and your stomach would burst. You’re welcome 😊

No that was definitely Deidara’s gay ass

Mask boy’s looking for you

Oh right like Kisame wouldn’t beat my ass for that 🙄 Nice try asshole

God damn it’s 3am when the FUCK do you sleep?!

We’re not “plotting” anything just come with ffs 🤦‍♂️

It was an accident and I didn’t even look that long don’t tell her she’ll slice me up with that sharp-ass paper 😖

From Kakuzu

You always being on time with your rent is most appreciated.

To be honest I don’t really know. But at this point I’m too far into my feelings for him so this is my life now. 

Getting enough sleep is important. Nagato agrees that a new mattress would be in your best interests. No arguments.

I’ve ripped off his leg and made it clear it won’t be returned until he returns your property to you.

I’ll consult with Sasori and get back to you.

Konan is insisting everyone text you to come down to eat. It’s my turn. Be advised that continued delay will result in one or more of us coming and retrieving you by force.

From Sasori

Please inform me right away if you notice any adverse side effects. I may need to change the medication or adjust the dosage.

Oh, thank you for reminding me. I wouldn’t want a repeat of last year. What sort of gift do you think I should give him?

You’re more than welcome to anytime. You know I don’t sleep.

Finding the correct body is the most difficult part. All that follows is merely routine.

He can be very sensitive. I’m still learning to decipher and appropriately react to his emotions.

May I borrow that book when you’ve finished it?

Heh. That’s actually very funny.

Try not to overdo it. Your chakra levels still haven’t recovered from the last time.

You may want to hurry back. Zetsu has been circling outside your door like an animal and trying to sniff under it. That lock may not hold.

From Kisame

You remembered your meds today right?

Did you eat?

Yeah? I bet I could work out that tension 😏

Cake is not acceptable for every meal, Itachi.

I got a new blanket, very soft. Come test it out with me 💙

I’ll talk to him about it don’t worry.

For God’s sake just TAKE A NAP!

Have fun but watch your back, I don’t trust those two.

Pretty warm out tonight. Midnight swim later? 😏

You left your necklace on my dresser

Leave it there. You’ve already got one illicit pet you don’t need a second.

I’m cooking, you’re eating. No objections.

My hands are craving being in your hair 😔

I did not eat him. Zetsu is a liar.

You got any more pics like that? Please? 👀

I 💙 you too

[bug-bites]

LET THEM COOK!

tw: none! just pure fluff :]

pairings: task force 141 x gn!reader (can be either platonic or romantic)

summary: cooking with tf-141 heacanons :3

characters: simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick, and gary "roach" sanderson

notes: first batch of headcanons yurrrr 🗣️‼️💯 (sorry if they're a bit ooc im abt to eep :P)

john price

he's a cook from the heart type of guy and it always turns out (surprisingly) really good

most of the recipes he has memorized are probably comfort meals or hangover cures

this man is so well meaning, standing behind you and helping you with every damn thing no matter how small the task. he does the thing where he holds your hand when you're chopping anything with a knife or stirring and guides you. it gets a bit overbearing but he's trying his to help

probably acts like you have never seen an oven/stovetop before and is constantly reminding you its hot as if thats not the whole point of it

he likes playing music while he cooks with you (most likely a shared playlist between the both of you) he likes humming along to it and he likes it even more when he can hear you hum along with him

the meal he defaults to making with you is probably chicken pot pie that tastes just like home

kyle "gaz" garrick

this man can BAKE. cake? muffins? cookies? he's got a recipe for it and you bet your ass its a damn good recipe.

he probably enjoys having the great british bake off in the background while he cooks

out of all the guys in TF-141, gaz is probably the one you should trust the most in there with you. when its the two of you in the kitchen not only do you get things done efficiently, it ends up being super fun with minimal chaos!

you definitely made each other those super cute lunchbox cakes for each other at one point

as much as he loves trying new recipes with you, making strawberry rhubarb pie from scratch with you is one he will always default to. he prefers his slice with a side of whipped cream <3

john "soap" mactavish

i dont think any of the guys are completely incompetent in the kitchen, when left alone in a kitchen soap could probably make a pretty good meal. emphasis on him alone in the kitchen

but when it is you two in the kitchen it will take a lot longer than expected or go to shit (but will still be edible!)

gets into flour fights with you even if the recipe doesn't call for any. he just grabs it out the pantry and WHAPOW it looks like the pillsbury dough boy just fucking exploded

he also keeps eating things he's not supposed to. raw cookie dough, batter, straight up flour, etc he probably took a bite or two for "taste testing purposes" of course. he's lucky he's got an iron stomach because if his immune system was even the tiniest bit weaker food poisoning would be beating his ass

one thing that you would enjoy making together would probably be crème brûlée. of course he get the honors of the little blowtorch part but you could get away with doing a few if you ask very nicely

gary "roach" sanderson

he takes the smaller tasks like chopping things up, washing fruits and veggies, or keeping the countertops organized and he does a really good job at whatever small task you give him

ask him to slice something up for you and trust they will be in the most perfect even slices you have ever seen in your life

if you're baking together he would love watching whatever delicious creation you made together rise in the oven. he likes just sitting criss cross applesauce on the floor, feeling the warmth radiating from the oven as he watches the baked goods cook. the first time he did this you didn't realize he was just sitting on the floor so you tripped over him

your go-to thing to make together is definitely chocolate chip cookies. roach likes putting small designs on top with chocolate chips like hearts, smiley faces, or just cuss words because he's silly like that

they come out really good but if you share with someone else make sure you don't hand them one that says "dick" in all capital letters

simon "ghost" riley

he has all the measurements with him and a scale to measure ingredients so you think he's precise and it will be all fine right? wrong. sure he measures his ingredients but if he goes over he probably doesn't try to fix it. ghost is the type of guy to shrug it off and adds it to the bowl anyways. to him measurements are suggestions

this bitch doesnt level his measuring cups

this usually goes well for cooking but for baking not so much

has forgotten to add in seasonings on a number of occasions so right before you put it in the oven you have to do a whole checklist to make sure that everything that should be in there is actually in there

favorite thing to make together is probably pesto pasta. most of it is measured by heart which he definitely appreciates and also less dishes to wash!

[aardvark-123]

~Fallout 4 Companions React to a Quiche Lorraine~

Ada would be mildly interested. "Ah, a savoury pastry dish with a cheese, egg, and bacon lardon filling. Packed with energy for a hard day's scavenging. It isn't often you find something that nice out here."

Cait would stare at the quiche in a mixture of desire and trepidation. "Janey Mack..." she'd whisper. "I haven't touched a quiche since my parents tried to drown me in one! Held my face under the delicious, creamy, cheese and onion-based filling until I blacked out, so they did, to punish me for sneaking food earlier. Bastards." Whoever offered Cait the Quiche Lorraine would be so horrified by her tale, they wouldn't notice her devouring the whole pastry without leaving them so much as a slice.

Codsworth would be pleasantly surprised to see such fine cuisine two hundred years after the apocalypse. "By George, where on Earth did you manage to find that?!" he'd exclaim. "Did you bake it? Good heavens, I simply MUST have the recipe!"

Curie would be worried about the quiche at first. "Alors, you cannot be certain zis dish is safe to consume! Given zat it smells so good, it cannot contain much in ze way of preservatives..." Then she'd take a small bite, and her eyes would light up. "OH! Sacre bleu, ze quiche, it is making LOVE to my tongue! Oh, help, I fear I shall BURST from ze sheer pleasure of it! Aaaah... If zis is ze last Quiche Lorraine in ze world, I shall die..."

Paladin Danse would grab your hand halfway to the quiche. "Not so fast, soldier," he'd say sternly. "One of our rules is that a knight cannot feed themself until they've fed the Brotherhood. Luckily, as I am also in said Brotherhood, you can fulfil your obligation by cutting me a slice first..."

Deacon would wear the Quiche Lorraine as a hat, after which he'd be too busy laughing to eat much of it.

Dogmeat would sniff the quiche. His ears would prick up in delight, and he'd give you a pleading look, as if asking for permission to tuck in. If you gave him the go-ahead, he'd spend five minutes chowing down on the quiche, as quite possibly the happiest dog in the world.

"Heheheh... Now, there's a tasty dish!" Porter Gage would laugh. "Reminds me of all my favourite things, like torturing innocent victims, and selling children into slavery. Good times!"

Glory hasn't had much contact with baked goods before, and at first she'd be confused by the Quiche Lorraine. She'd get the picture after a few mouthfuls. "Man! Now, THERE'S a pie that can look a girl's tongue right in the eye!" she'd exclaim upon finishing the quiche. "Just needs some chips, coleslaw and a side salad, and maybe some mustard... Wait, how the Hell do I know what those things are? Weird."

Hancock would complain that the quiche was too salty and needed a side of apple juice.

MacCready would be ever so excited to have a delicious Quiche Lorraine, but he'd freeze with his fork half-way to his mouth. "Is this- is this paid for?" he'd stammer. "I don't have to pay for the quiche, do I? Just checking. I mean, it's probably worth a few caps, but I don't want any nasty surprises in the financial department. So are we all square? Right, good. Just making sure."

"Well, I'll be damned," Nick would chuckle, seeing the Quiche Lorraine just sitting there. "Genuine pastry and egg, just like old Mrs Calkowski used to make in that little place down on Mass Avenue. Times like this make a man miss having a stomach. No, don't feel bad, partner; you get some of that down you. It's cold out there, and you're gonna need your strength."

Old Longfellow would probably also eat the quiche.

Piper would cheerfully tuck in as soon as she was offered some quiche. She'd eat every crumb of the quiche, lick the plate (if there was in fact a plate involved), and immediately ask for an interview about where you found the quiche. "If there's still food like this out in the ruins, the public have a right to know! I want names, places, anything to do with the source of the quiche! This... is going to be big."

Preston would fetch some paper plates and start dividing up the quiche for everyone nearby, or everyone who needed it most.

Strong would dig out a rusty machete and hack the Quiche Lorraine in half. "Human! Eat pizza so you can grow big!" he'd bark, handing you half of the quiche. "Strong also eat pizza, so he can stay big," he'd chuckle, tucking into the other half.

X6-88 would be unimpressed. "Such a primitive pastry construction," he'd remark of the quiche. "This dish demonstrates poor nutritional balance, with excessive salt and fat. Eating too much of it may cause minor health problems. I recommend that both of us take a small slice, and we hand the rest over for molecular analysis. The Institute's scientists will surely be able to generate a better, healthier quiche."

If you've never heard of Quiche Lorraine before, it's a type of egg and ham quiche originating in Lorraine, which is in France. It's a tasty dish.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

She’s Imperfect, But She Tries for the ask game? (Song lyric fics my bELOVED)

Thank you anon! I do actually know this song! That's a first for me (but anything from a musical your odds are pretty good I'll know it 😅). However, this isn't a direct lyric fic but I hope you still like it!

No one knows where Bob disappears to every afternoon just after training is over. Most of the other aviators relax in their rooms, hang out in the common area, or head down to the Hard Deck for drinks. Yet like clockwork, Bob is nowhere to be found from 3-5 every day. Finally, the other Daggers decide to figure out this mystery and follow him. To their surprise, he goes to a small hole-in-the-wall dinner on the edge of town and sits down at a booth in the corner alone. Following him inside, they make a big deal about being surprised to see him there, though he looks equally surprised and flustered at the Daggers' sudden appearance. But before he can say anything, a waitress comes over to the table. She is cute, though sort of plain, her hair tied up into a messy bun on top of her head. But it is instantly clear she is the reason Bob comes here every day based on the smile that breaks out across his face. And the waitress smiles back just as brightly. "Hiya, Bobby. Wow! Looks like ya brought the whole gang with ya this time! I'll have ta get more menus!" "T-thanks, Jenna. Sorry about this. I didn't know they'd all be here." "That's ok, honey! The more the merrier!" She winks at him, takes everyone's drink orders, and hurries away. When she is gone, Hangman leans over and whistles. "Way to go, Bob-o. She's a real catch." Bob shakes his head. "It's not like that. Jenna is… She's just a friend. I stumbled on this place a few months ago and stopped for a quick bite and she was just really nice. So, I started coming back and we've gotten close. But she's just a friend," he insists again. Jenna comes back with a tray of drinks. As she sets them down, she gives half of them to the wrong person, spills Phoneix's water, and it turns out she got Rooster a Sprite instead of a Coke. The Daggers exchange side-eyed glances, but Bob never takes his doe-eyed stare off of her. When she rushes off to get some more napkins, Rooster chuckles. "Damn, Bob. You've got it bad for this girl. No offense, but she's not so great at her job. Yet you keep coming back just to see her?" Bob shrugs. "I guess everyone is looking for a perfect person. Someone with no flaws or who never makes mistakes. Jenna isn't that. She's imperfect, but she tries. She always has a smile on her face and remains so upbeat and kind, no matter what happens. And she never gives up or stops trying to make things better. I've never met someone like her…." He trails off in a dreamy sigh as he watches her pick up a stack of menus she had just knocked over. "Bob, just ask her out. You know you want to," Phoenix urges. "It's clear she likes you too." "I-I don't.." Bob blushes a deep red but shuts his mouth as Jenna comes back with the napkins. "Sorry about that! I can be such a klutz sometimes!" When she has cleaned up the water, she places a plate in front of Bob. "And I went ahead and brought yoa your pie, Bobby." She smiles as she turns to the other Daggers. "Every day he comes in here for a slice of the flavor of the day. The boy does love his pie!" "Actually…" Hangman pipes up. "I think he's more interested in something else… or should I say someone else." Bob kicked at Hangman under the table, but missed and hit Rooster instead. He let out a small yelp, but Jenna didn't seem to notice. Instead, her eyes were locked on Bob, a hopeful gleam shining in them. "Oh? Really? Bobby, is there sometin' I can get you?" Gulping audibly, Bob whispers "You…. I mean, would you maybe wanna go out sometime?" Jenna squeals as a smile breaks out over her face. "Boy, do ya know how long I've been waitin' for ya to ask me that?" "You… you have?" "Why sure! I mean, I know our pies are good and all, but honey, no one loves pie enough to come in here every day for months just for that. I was hopin' ya'd eventually get up the nerve to ask me out. But I didn't wanna push ya into it either." She winks at Hangman. "Luckily ya got some really good friends to do that for ya." Bob looks around at the Daggers. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it

[sofiiel]

A cluster of random Eddie thoughts:

Sappy movie Eddie, Him just grabbing your hand anytime there's an extra emotional scene in a romance movie. Eddie lives for the 'chick flicks', and is quickly invested in the relationship within in. He takes you hand on the happy bits, sad bits and everything in between.

Once the movie is over, Eddie's usually left in an extra fluffy mood, meaning he's even more touch starved than usual. He does things like holding you while swaying to music that isn't there, leaving kisses on the back of your hand, using sugary nicknames for you.

A good romcom will have full of fluff'n'stuff for a few days.

The last word, Eddie being hellbent on having the last "I love you" before you part ways. He'd also find unique and quirky was to get the phrase in. Determined to make it seem like he doesn't need to have the last 'I love you', even though he totally does.

Van sex with Eddie, the windows are covered, but everyone knows what's going down inside because the damn thing is rocking like a toy boat in a sea storm. However, you two are absolutely shamless about it and continue taking turns for who gets to be top. The constant exchanging of positions is the main culprit of the swaying of the heavy steel vehicle.

Neither of you are able to be quiet, and eventually some poor soul was brave enough to knock on the window.

Which results in Eddie muttering to himself as he pulls out, tries his best to cover himself and drive the van to a more secluded area. He's gone a little soft, but it's nothing a few dirty words, kisses along his stomach and teasing with your tongue won't remedy.

Aftercare With Eddie, it becomes a ritual to lay and catch your breath before clean up. Snuggled close and just being tow soft little bunnies, nuzzling and leaving little kisses on each other's face. Offering affirmations and quietly spoken words to each other.

When that's over, you run a hot bath and Eddie lights up a smoke with a towel hung around his hips. He's picked out that evening movie and sets it up before going to join you in the bath.

You take turns helping each other lather and rinse hard to reach spots, the warm water and gentle fragrance soothes any worn muscles or over stimulated senses.

The bath is followed up my huddling close on the couch or floor in bathrobes and a huge blanket. Eddie's got the remote, and you've got the bowl of snacks as you two watch a movie together and simmer down.

Loveable menace, He's that guy who's gonna try to smash that piece of cake or whole pie in your face. He'll cackle like 20 hyenas about it, it'll get worse as he looks at your cute 'am angy' face, and then he'll lick your face clean.

Eddie will sweet talk and butter his way right out of trouble, get you a new slice and try to feed it to you.

Takes a piece of home with him, Eddie never leaves the house without something tied to you tucked away in his belongings. A trinket, a keychain, a note you wrote, one of your hair ties, one of your rings either on his finger or hanging from a chain.

Maybe a tap/CD from your music collection for his car or walkman.

If it's not a tangible object, he'll ask for a puff of your fragrance so that he can smell you all day.

If he can't get that, he will steal one of your socks and wear it on one foot. You are his home and he will take a piece with him where ever he goes.

He's a seat stealer, Eddie steals your place on the couch, easy chair, recliner and bed when you get up. Why? Because it's warm and comfy and that spot smells like you. It also gives him an excuse to have you sit/lay on top of him. You gave him a warm spot, so he'll be your new warm spot, everyone wins.

[bloodandfleshandbone]

As good as you'll get.

It's April.

The promising of thunderstorms to wash away the remnants of the dead winter.

Sulking trees and fallen leaves are absorbed by the earth

To begin again.

Things are beginning to pick up the pace and you're not in the race to win, you run just fast enough as to not get left behind.

So you can go home and no longer tell yourself this time it's gonna be different.

It's being told to pull at the dandelions and make a wish.

Because what man doesn't want, will be painted gold and dropped into your begging hands.

It's shiny and phony and fake. But it's fine.

Its good.

You don't feel very smart but you are smart enough to know that now.

It's dessert.

You pat yourself on the back for not eating the whole pie

Or crumbling up its guts in your fists

Or throwing the whole damn thing away and telling everyone it was of fact you who ate it.

You recall all the times you used to count the apple slices on your plate.

It's one- two- six too many!

It's delusional in retrospect but the executioner in you head will make sure you pay the price for it.

It's your sister.

The one you haven't talked to since you left.

You look at your twin skeleton, but only when it chooses to reveal its bones on the internet

Popping

Cracking

Snapping

The skeleton so much taller

And slender

And pearly white

Like a pair of teeth that goes to the dentist every six months.

It's the best.

The whirlwind of emotions, that consume you in your entirety, holds you in its big arms and spits you back out again.

You are out of the storm alast!

It will wait for you like a mistress. Leave a burning kiss behind your ear every three weeks. Like clockwork.

It's been forecasted.

And you buy black roses for her after you get off of work because she hasn't killed you yet.

Not like they did.

And she always comes back.

Like they didn't.

And she stays no matter how much you've changed. She would keep running through you, harder and faster and deadlier each time you did.

Its fine. It will do.

Not that there is much you feel you should get to ask for anyway.

It's good. As good as you'll get.

-m.t

[ledenews]

ARCHIVED: Fabio’s Remains a Fixture at the Ohio Valley Mall

(Publisher's Note: This article first appeared on LEDE News when pandemic restrictions remained in place throughout the tri-state region, but this place stood the test of very trying times and continues to offer one the valley's favorite slices of pie.) When the Ohio Valley Mall first opened in October 1978, the small pizza shop next to the hallway to Kaufmann’s was called Scotto’s Pizza. After 14 years, though, the name above the front door changed to Fabio’s Pizza after Tom Cracolici purchased the business and named it after his son. Kind of, and that’s because there is an interesting story behind the reasons why Cracolici named his son Fabio. “I named him after Fabio Grosso, who scored the winning goal when Italy last won the World Cup in 2006,” Cracolici explained. “My son is 28 now, and he works here, too, and Fabio has blessed me with a grandson this past Monday. Fabio's Pizza has been a very popular destination for mall patrons for nearly 30 years. “I came to America in 1974 because my father was a prisoner of war here, and he told us that it was the best time of his life. He got treated like a king even though he was a prisoner of war,” he said. “He was allowed to work even though he was a prisoner, and when World War II ended, he wanted his family to come here so we would have a better future. I don’t care what anyone says; this is the best damn country in the whole world.” But he still roots for Italy in the World Cup? “Of course,” Cracolici said with a masked smile. “I will always root for Italy.” The pizza buffet at Fabio's offers customers a wide variety of options. Pizza with Your Pandemic? At a time when the American public was learning how to distance and debating about wearing masks, the Cafaro Co. shuttered the Ohio Valley Mall while following the precautions mandated by Ohio Gov. Mike DeWine. Businesses like Boscov’s, Lids, Victoria’s Secret and yes, Fabio’s, were closed for two months. “That hurt. I cleaned the house. I went on walks. I cooked at home. And after the first few days I was going to crazy,” Cracolici recalled. “It made me wonder what people do when they don’t go to work every day. It was something I had not experienced. It’s not like I could go anywhere. I was stuck at home, so I just tried to stay busy. But then we were allowed to reopen in mid-May, and it hasn’t been easy at all. Thank God I have great customers and great employees. They all have been amazing, so I feel I have been blessed. “It’s kind of slow compared to this time last year, but I am hearing that most businesses are down from last year,” he explained. “It’s been a struggle with Covid. There are so many uncertainties right now. It seems as if it’s been one thing after another, but we just have to endure. I’m a warrior, so I’m not worried about it. As long as I pay my bills and stay ahead of the game, I’m fine. But we are down about 30 percent right now, so I’m hoping that it gets better pretty soon.” Tom Cracolici has three more years on his lease at the Ohio Valley Mall, and what happens after that will be a decision for his children. More Than Pie Fabio’s customers always enjoy the parade of pizza that rests under the shop’s front counter each day because there are the Sicilian and the Chicago style from which to choose. Cracolici’s menu, however, also features items he learned how to prepare from his family through the years, including the manicotti, spaghetti, rigatoni, stuffed shells, and several different hoagies and salads. “Pretty much everything we make is fresh,” Cracolici said. “We have our own spices, our own recipes, and all of the recipes are in my head, and that’s where they are going to stay. My kids know some of them, and if they ask, I will tell them, but it’s always about practice, practice, practice. Cracolici is very hands on at Fabio's as he assists his staff with everything from working the ovens to waiting on customers. “I get told that I should write everything down, but to me, it’s not the same,” he said. “When my mom cooked, it was a little bit of this, a little bit of this, and a little bit of this. That’s because if it’s in your head, it’s in your heart.” Cracolici is now 64 years old, and Fabio’s has three years remaining on its lease with the Cafaro Co. Whether or not Fabio’s Pizza renews the agreement is a decision that will be up to his children, and Cracolici did not rule out a move to the city of Wheeling. “We are thinking about making a change when our lease is up here,” he revealed. “My kids work here, so when the lease is up, that decision will be up to them. I love it here, and I love my customers, but at that time it’s their decision. “No matter what they decide, I will help them here or at a new place in Wheeling,” Cracolici said. “I am looking forward to cutting down a little. Just a little … not much. I get asked every day when I am going to retire, and I ask back, ‘And do what?’ I love what I do, the people I work with, and the people who come here for our food.” Read the full article

[insidious-journalist]

"Because I don't remember jack shit about what happens during that state, and the fact I woke up without my mask is alarming. I don't just leave those things behind like that." Getting weird was a bit of a funny way to put it. Sure, Danny got weird. He's been in and out of "weird" even before the fog, having had to suppress whatever that was for a long damn time. It was clear from the expression on his face that he was put off by the whole thing. Even a bit fidgety. How much did he want to say exactly?

"It happens... When I let go. Like, when I'm mentally unable to hold that back. Don't even try to ask me what that is... Because I don't know." It wasn't like Jake would be able to hold that against him in any meaningful way. If people found out, what exactly would they gain from that outside of being just a bit more wary around him? People being scared of him was only a benefit. If survivors found out he was actually holding back then maybe that'd help keep his image.

Except for Jake. Because look at them now. Despite seeing the horrors unveiled from him letting whatever darkness he suppressed overtake him he still kept poking the bear. Danny didn't get it. "But regardless, I don't like losing time like that, and I'm disappointed I didn't take your whole fucking leg. Maybe a little bit of payback would've been nice. It's hard chasing people down when you can barely walk."

Of course he was bitter, the whole situation really managed to get under his skin. His expression soured and he sighed, slowly rising to his feet and heading back to the counter where the pie was still cooling. The knife was grabbed again and he began to actually cut it into sections, rummaging through a cabinet for some plates. The black cat by Jake's feet perked up and wandered over, beginning to meow and paw at his legs.

The cat was ignored. Jake would watch him carefully place slices onto the plates he gathered and begin to walk over. Two plates. One was unceremoniously set by Jake's side, the other on his side. He'd gotten himself a fork but it seems like that courtesy wasn't extended to the man before him. He still looked annoyed, which made the seeming act of kindness seem off.

"If you ask me if it's poisoned I'm strangling you. Just a heads-up."

Rp Starter | @the-game-warden

Given how secretive Ghostface tended to be, it was surprisingly easy to find his house. House... Realm... Whatever it was, Jake found himself staring up at a falling-apart two story house that would have been the perfect picture of suburbia if it weren't for all the surveillance cameras. Getting there was much easier than he thought it would be. The moment Danny mentioned 'going home' off-handedly, Jake had been clued in to the fact that this Danny had a realm of his own. After that it was just a matter of sheer stubborn determination, trekking through the fog until he'd found it.

He circled around the property a few times, trying to get a sense for the place, before finding the easiest point of entrance and letting himself inside.

The house of the Ghostface was supposed to be a well kept secret, a place of secluded sanctuary where nobody could tread upon easily and where he could relax knowing he wouldn't have to worry about the others. But although the Entity granted him many things, it wouldn't give him complete and utter peace of mind so easily. And so although you couldn't burn an offering to visit his home, wander around the fog with it in mind enough and the rotting structure will find you.

The only modern thing about his home were the security cameras. The rest fell to ruin over years of neglect, although that much could be said about most realms people crossed into. Jake would find that the back window was cracked just a little bit open, unlocked and big enough to where he could slowly slip in and meet the interior.

He would meet darkness for most of the inside until he was able to adjust to it, feeling a deep sense of unease as he carefully treaded the halls of the Ghostface's home. It felt... Familiar, too. The Entity's presence felt strong, like it was underneath the floorboards and just behind the walls. But he wasn't alone here. A voice from the kitchen, just up the hall near the front door. A smell wafted down... Something... Sweet?

It's a lot of murmuring and the tone sounds scolding, although not inherently hostile.

[missingexaltation]

Another AU Fic idea:

Some time after season 4 (where everyone's alive and whole, damn it), Eddie finally gets his own place. Nothing wrong with staying with Wayne but he's finally outta school and loves the independence. Wayne also gets to have a bedroom again, so good for him.

Only he's gotta pay for everything now. (AND a whole shitload of one off purchases that he never thought about, like forks and pots and pans, what the FUCK, capitalism??).

So naturally, during his first month as an actual grown up, in his grown up house, amongst other things his razor breaks. And money is kinda tight for a guy on minimum wage and barely any furniture, so he thinks 'fuck it'. It can wait until next payday. He can cope.

Only a couple of days later, his face itches so bad, and in all honesty he looks like a bum. The guys at work find it hilarious, he's the baby there after all, and they think he's trying to grow it on purpose to look older. He doesn't want to admit that he's fucking broke, and even considers asking Rick to let him deal again for a bit, for some easy cash. (He doesn't because he promised Wayne, but it's really fucking tempting).

His scruff is growing in patchy, some bits quicker than others and it's looks a lot of a mess. He's got a knife that's vaguely sharp so he tries that, but no. Ouch. Despite his skilled guitarist's fingers he's still a bit of a klutz and nearly slices his cheek open. Still, it's less than a week till payday. He can cope.

A couple of days later, and while the itching has subsided, he's still weirded out each time he see himself in the mirror. It's not a metal look at all, he looks WAY older than he actually is. It's less patchy though, so there's that. Once he trims it a bit, it looks a lot better. Passable. Only a few days to go.

Wayne swings by that night, bringing take out for them both. He offers to chip in some cash, after he's stopped laughing his ass off. Eddie refuses it on principle, but sulks his way through his food until Wayne apologises for bruising his ego. He doesn't mention that he looks fucking amazing compared to a couple of days ago, mollified by Wayne's apologies nonetheless.

He still has zero cash, and skips breakfast, annihilating a couple of cupcakes that his boss brought in for the team, skips dinner, and gets second helpings of Mrs Jones' pecan pie at band practise (Gawd bless Gareth's mom). He's not sure how he's gonna get through the final day as he's already a hungry hungry hippo, but then when he wakes up the greatest thing happens.

Steve is back from his awful family vacation and calls him up, desperate to be around ANYONE that he's not related to.

He promises to bring food and gossip galore with him, and Eddie's day just got a million times better. He's whistling at work, begs a couple of candy bars from his coworkers, and by the time Steve arrives at his new abode that night, Eddie's climbing the walls ready for a full meal.

He's forgotten about the razor.

When he opens the door, Steve just gapes at him, before turning bright red and blinking really hard. It takes longer than it should for Eddie to remember, but suddenly the last week or so has been totally worth it, because Steve Harrington is kissing him and losing his goddammed mind over the shitty beard.

Holy fuck.

It's not until Steve pulls back that he seems to register who he's kissing, but he just shrugs it off and hands over the food. Eddie gets fed, gets the Harrington family gossip, and...gets the Steve staying the next few nights.

(He still shaves it off at the first opportunity because holy fuck it's annoying to keep it looking decent).

[voylitscope]

Voylitscope Fic Masterpost

Canon and canon divergent fics:

There Are Strangers I Have Yet To Become (Explicit | 16,070 words | Complete | No Warnings)

"Two days," Steve repeats. His words are slow and almost gentle, and there's a small smile starting to form on his face again. "I'm asking you to let me stay here for two days."

Bucky frowns.

"What? Why?" Bucky asks. "What the hell is that gonna do?"

"Remind you what it's like not to be alone," Steve says. His smile looks sad when adds, "because it's been a long time since you weren't."

"That's not gonna change anything," Bucky says, swallowing hard. Steve's words bounce around in his brain. It feels like they're hitting up against spots he hasn't uncovered yet.

"Then you've got nothing to lose," Steve says, raising an eyebrow. "Right?"

(Or: Steve finds Bucky in Bucharest before the events of Captain America: Civil War. They work a few things out.)

I Wanna Live in the Hidden Parts of Your Skin (Canon Divergence | Explicit | 10,278 words | Complete | No warnings)

Sometimes, Steve looks at Bucky across the floor of their apartment or in the middle of the sidewalk, and it's not goddamn fair how good Bucky looks. It's not fair how Steve, who's spent his whole life fighting with his lungs for air and his heart for a steady beat, sometimes looks at Bucky and his breath and pulse are wrong for reasons that aren't his lousy health at all.

And ever since the day with the purple ink, Steve can't stop thinking about people being canvases, like the models at that exhibit. Steve keeps thinking that Bucky'd be the most stunning canvas a guy could ever ask for.

(Or: Steve and Bucky discover a kink in 1940. They find a reason to come back to it 80 years later. )

There's a Light (I Find It at Your Side) (Canon Divergence | Explicit | 4,527 words | Complete | No Warnings)

Bucky had simultaneously wanted to do three things: roll his eyes and smack Steve's arm for how unbearably sappy that was, offer to suck Steve off right that second for what a surprisingly good line that actually was, and tell Steve to come over here and kiss him for the way the words were making Bucky's heart hammer in his chest.

And, damn it all, he'd ended up going for option three.

(Or: A very soft fic about all the little things that keep surprising Bucky now that he and Steve are together.)

But Slowly, Because You Know Me (Pre-War | Explicit | 5,186 words| Complete | No Warnings)

You sound awfully sure of yourself," Steve says, unsuccessfully biting back a smile. "What makes you think I've got wishes that would involve you?" "Don't know," Bucky says. He grins wider, shrugging playfully. "Do you?" And dammit, but sometimes — No, okay, maybe all of the time, Steve is sort of a helpless and hopeless fool for just how much he wants Bucky. He's got no resistance or willpower at all. (Or: Thanksgiving this year feels strange and terrible, and it leaves Steve in an awful mood. Good thing Bucky's got an idea. A pre-war Thanksgiving fic featuring pie slices, a makeshift blindfold, their firescape, and a lot of feelings.)

And We're on Our Own in the Afterglow (Canon/Canon divergence | Explicit | 9,028 words | 2/5 chapters | WIP | No warnings)

"Could make up for it now. The mugs, I mean," Bucky offers, taking another long sip of coffee. "Could buy a whole variety of 'em. Get some of those they make with you on them, even." "Oh god," Steve says, picturing the stacks of mugs, cups, plates, and all sorts of other kitchenware with his own image plastered on them that he's been shown. "I still don't understand who would want that." "I don't know. I can kinda see the appeal," Bucky says, leaning back in his chair and keeping his eyes on Steve. "Starting the day looking at your face." Steve swallows his coffee a bit too fast. Or: Steve, Bucky, and a month's vacation in a mountain cabin. Featuring Steve's art, a fireplace, online shopping, so very much pining, two beds (but eventual sharing anyway), comfort for decades of hurt, and even some talk about feelings.

Hearts Don't Need a Break (I'll Be Waiting For You) (Shrunkyclunks | Explicit | 4,615 words | Complete | No warnings)

"The wonderful but awful thing about having Steve here is that it's perfect.

Right this minute, Bucky is lying in his bed and curled into Steve. Everything smells like sex, Bucky's favorite shampoo, and that citrusy soap he keeps in his shower just for Steve. His whole body still feels incredible — unwound and remade — and there are places Steve's touch feels burned to his skin. They're pressed close together, and Steve's smiling one of those smiles that always seem like they're just for Bucky.

Bucky would be unbelievably happy about it all if it hadn't been sixty-four days since the last time Steve was here.

(Or: Bucky enthusiastically welcomes Steve back after a long absence, and they have a very overdue conversation about their relationship — and their feelings.)

As Your Heartbeat Keeps Me Warm (Canon Divergence | Mature | 8,024 words | Complete | No Warnings)

"I was awake," Bucky says. Steve's almost sure that's a lie. Bucky's breathing had been steady and measured as recently as five minutes ago. Steve decides not to point that out.

Instead, he reaches his hand out between their bedrolls and grabs for Bucky's.

"Too strange for you, too?" Steve asks, turning his head toward Bucky.

"Too something, anyway," Bucky says, moving his hand so that his fingers lace with Steve's. "Too a lot of things, I guess."

(Or: Steve Rogers at exactly 2:14 am on 10 different sleepless nights between 1937 and 2020.)

But You Can Hold Me (Only 'Cause It's a Cold Night in Brooklyn) (Pre-Canon | Mature | 3,294 words | Complete | No Warnings)

This should just be two friends getting off after the burlesque show. This should just be two pals both thinking about the girl. That would probably be okay, Bucky thinks.

But then he ruins it all when he says,

"Come here," and puts a hand out to tug on Steve's shoulder.

(Or: Sometimes, Bucky and Steve lend each other a hand, literally. Bucky tries not to be weird about it, but he's always been bad at controlling his thoughts about Steve.)

Following the Outline of your Face (Canon Divergence | Teen | 1,000 Words | Complete | No warnings)

A ficlet about vacations, drawing, and the good light.

You're a Gem but Not a Saint (Pre-Canon | General | 1,707 words | Complete | No Warnings)

Bucky tries to give himself rules. He tries not to be weird about Steve.

Bucky gives himself rules, but he's only human. Sometimes, he breaks a couple of them.

(Or: Steve doesn't show up for dinner. Bucky wishes he could think Steve just forgot.)

CA: TWS 10th Anniversary ficlets | Canon + Canon divergence | Gen - Mature |5,700 words total | Complete | No warnings

Modern AUs

I Held You In Gloved Hands (And I'm Not Letting Go) (AU: Modern | Explicit | 48,785 words | Complete | No warnings)

Bucky Barnes jumps at the chance to take a job opportunity hours from home. He's expecting a fresh start and a decent salary jump. He's not expecting to run into his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers, on his first day. The years since they last talked have been hard ones for both of them, but falling back into their friendship is shockingly easy. Despite their time apart, December in this small town might bring them closer than ever.

(Or, a holiday rom-com in which Bucky reads to children, Steve teaches art, new friendships are made, difficult conversations are had, cookies are baked, way too much coffee is consumed, home is found in surprising places and, eventually, feelings are confessed.)

If I Could Stop The Clock With You Tonight (AU: Modern | Explicit:| 10,855 words | Complete| No Warnings)

"Mm, see, but you don't actually know that," James says, shaking his head, but looking amused. "Not until you taste this. You might hate it." "I've been your audience, though. I've been right here watching you make all that," Steve protests, grinning. "I've seen your cooking focus and how you use your hands and everything. There's no way this won't be amazing." There's a pause after Steve's words. It's probably a very brief and barely noticeable pause, but it feels long and mortifying to Steve as he plays his own last few sentences back in his head. "Glad you think I'm good with hands," James eventually says, ending Steve's misery, but making him flush even redder. (Or: Natasha hires a private chef to cook Steve's birthday dinner. Steve's not too sure about the idea of a total stranger in his apartment on his birthday, but Chef James is incredibly attractive and very charming. He also seems oddly familiar. That might just be because Steve has met him before.)

Where Were You When I Was King in This Part of Town? (AU: Modern | Explicit | 15,232 words | WIP Two of Three chapters posted | No Warnings)

Bucky'd like to cut himself a little slack, he really would. After all, finding out Steve is fifteen years younger than him had been a shock.

But Bucky also doesn't like to let himself off the hook for his mistakes. So, he'll be honest about it: dismissively referring to a guy he'd hooked up with, in his office, less than 48 hours ago as a kid? A guy he works with? A guy he still really likes? Yeah, Bucky's gonna go ahead and rank that one nice and high on the list of his all-time stupidest love-life moves.

(Or: Bucky probably shouldn't have sex with Steve in his office, continue having sex with Steve after he learns how much younger than him Steve is, start actually dating Steve, or fall for Steve hard and fast. Unless, of course, Bucky should absolutely do every one of those things.)

We Set a Precedent, and Now I'm Living With it (AU: Modern | Teen | 8,212 words | Complete | No Warnings)

"It's lucky we met tonight," the guy says, sleazy and in Bucky's space in a way that has all of Bucky's defenses climbing up. "You know, after you finish that drink —"

"I am so sorry I'm late, babe," a deep voice it takes Bucky a second to recognize says from behind him. The voice comes with a hand placed firmly on Bucky's shoulder. Bucky blinks and looks up to find hot-Steve-from-work smiling at him, one eyebrow raised conspiratorially.

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning as he catches on.

"Boss trying to talk you into working overtime again?" Bucky asks, putting as much fake worry into his tone as possible and leaning into Steve.

(Or: Work friends Bucky and Steve get into the habit of helping each other escape uncomfortable, awkward, or bad situations. Their escape plans get increasingly elaborate as their friendship gets increasingly close. That's probably why their whole office thinks they're actually dating.)

A Kiss Just Waiting to Happen (AU: College | Teen | 3,470 words | Complete | No warnings)

Steve doesn't like losing. At anything.

So he's not planning to lose this, even if he's hardly had time to sleep all week. And even if some of this round's challenges are, in his opinion, sort of ridiculous. Some of them, like find someone with the same initials and birthday as you and post a picture with them, or take a picture of yourself at the highest and lowest geographical point on campus at midnight on two consecutive days — feel a little uninspired to him, but at least they're easy enough.

But others, like kiss a stranger are — Steve's pretty sure they're just really ridiculous.

(Or: College boys Steve and Bucky have been checking each other out in the hallways of their apartment building for the better part of a school year. Then they get trapped in an elevator together. Because sometimes we all need a little trope-y goodness.)

Set the Date, Set the Time (‘Cause We Already Know Where We’re Going) (AU: Modern | General | 5,161 words | Complete | No warnings)

"Well, thank you for being a good sport about it," she says, looking at Alena over her shoulder. "She's decided she was right about you, you know."

"Should I know what that means?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I imagine you'll find out soon enough," the woman says, laughing again. "I'm Natasha, by the way."

"Steve," Steve says, holding out a hand to shake hers.

"I know," she says, still looking amused.

(or: Steve teaches art to kids. He's used to his students not always being focused on art, and he's used to them being very curious about him. He's not at all used to them trying to set him up with their adult family members, but he can't complain about it. Not when the family member he's been set up with walks through his classroom door and is the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen.)

Other AUs

Darling, Lets's Take Our Time (While It's Still Ours To Take) (AU: Other | Explicit | 6,683 words | Complete | No Warnings)

Steve Rogers walking through his door is always a challenge — something that always makes holding up his casually friendly bartender facade very difficult.

It's harder tonight. The relief that floods Bucky at the sight of Steve's familiar features is so overwhelming that he has to ball his hands into fists and take a long breath to hide his less-than-calm emotions.

"Captain Rogers," he says, trying his damndest to not search Steve for signs of injury. "Didn't know you were in town."

"Just got in," Steve says. He grabs a seat, and Bucky keeps his eyes on the leather of Steve's jacket to avoid looking at his face

(Or: Steve's a rebel pilot with a target on his back, Bucky runs a bar that's a hub for rebel activity, and the two of them have a long history. It's a Star Wars AU.)

We Were Strangers for Far Too Long (AU: Historic | Mature | 4,314 words | Complete | No Warnings)

Bucky turned a corner and discovered a blond guy holding a can of spray paint and writing on the dingy alley walls. The guy had looked up at the sound of Bucky's footsteps, and Bucky'd found himself being stared at by massive blue eyes. The guy'd been wrapped in a pin-covered jacket, there'd been a scowl on his face, and Bucky'd fallen for him before either of them had said a word.

(Or: It's the late 1970s, and two boys from Brooklyn spend most of their days breaking the law. Bucky, because there's no other way to work off a debt owed to dangerous people. Steve, because maybe if he paints his message on the side of the C Train, someone will finally listen. Meeting each other doesn't change anything. Until it changes everything.)

More of my writing: Full fic/story masterpost

[no-not-without-you-blog]

Whumptember 6th: Afraid he's Angry

Warnings: Language, Yelling

Prompt by @comfortcap

It wasn’t often that Steve got well and truly angry. He prided himself on being able to keep a relatively level head about most things. While he would sometimes seem impulsive in his actions, in reality, he was just so sure of his morals and beliefs that making decisions to do or not do something came lightning fast. He may get frustrated, or ticked off, but really truly angry? That was something that happened very rarely. 

But hot damn, was he fuming right now. You had made him a Buttermilk pie with pecans on it. It wasn’t something that he had grown up eating but once he had tried it, he wondered how he had ever lived before it. It was crunchy and creamy and sweet. It was what he always asked for and he guarded it like it was gold. He had finished an evening workout with the newest recruits and was going to reward himself with the last slice of pie. He had been saving it for tonight and was excited as he went to the communal kitchen to retrieve it from the fridge. He had placed it on the bottom shelf at the very back with a note on it that it was his and to keep away. However, as he looked around the bottom shelf, it was nowhere to be seen. Trying not to jump to conclusions, he thought that maybe someone might have moved it to a different shelf. He searched the whole fridge from top to bottom but couldn’t find it.

“Goddamnit! Who ate my pie!?!?!” He yelled loudly while slamming the door. He stomped down to Tony’s lab and swung open the door, making Tony and Bruce jump in the process. “Did either of you eat my pie?” They both made shocked faces at him and shook their heads no. He glared at them and then decided that Bruce has a terrible poker face and Tony would gladly own up to it if he had, just to irritate him further. He stormed out of the lab and went on the hunt again. Thor was off world and  Wanda and Clint were still gone on a weeklong mission, so it wasn’t them. Rhodes was allergic to nuts, so it couldn’t be him. He figured the movie room was a good place to look for the others. He stormed his way there and had Friday pause the movie and turn up the lights. He stood in front of Nat, Sam, and Bucky with his arms crossed intimidatingly. “Okay, which one of you assholes ate my pie? I left the last piece in the fridge, clearly marked as mine and to leave it alone and it’s now gone! I swear I ask for one thing!”

“Steve…” Bucky said with an unusual look on his face.

“Don’t ‘Steve’ me! I swear to God Bucky, when I find out which one of you ate it, there’ll be hell to pay!” 

“Steve!” Bucky decided to yell it again, finally stopping Steve’s angry rant.

“What!?!” He yelled. Bucky pointed behind Steve and he turned around. Standing behind him, having just walked out of the bathroom was a very pregnant and very scared looking Y/n. You had tears in your eyes and looked like you were about to fall apart at the seams. At that moment, Steve’s anger deflated and he dropped his head and cursed under his breath.

“I-I’m so sorry. I knew that you w-were saving it but I hadn’t had a single piece and it was all I could think about all day. I’m so sorry, Steve.” By this point you had started to cry and Steve instantly wrapped you in his arms. 

“No, I’m sorry baby. I shouldn’t have yelled like that. Not at anyone and certainly not directed towards you. It’s just a piece of pie. And you and this baby are worth so much more than anything else. If you were craving it, I totally understand.” He sat and continued to comfort you for a few minutes before you finally had the crying under control. “Do you forgive me for yelling?”

You sniffled and smiled shyly. “Only if you can forgive me for eating it.” He smiled and kissed your head. “Already forgiven. Although you can always make it up to me.” Natasha, Sam, and Bucky booed and made gagging noises. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Not like that.” Then looked to you, winked, and softly whispered, “Although, I am not opposed to that as well.” 

“I just thought that maybe tomorrow you could maybe make a new pie?”

You thought for a moment before answering. “Fine, but I’m going to make two. One for you to hoard, and one for everyone else. It can’t always be just for you, Steve.”

He laughed and then responded. “I don’t see why not? It’s my wife who makes them because I like them. I think they should be just for me.”

“Steven…”

“Okay, Okay. I’ll share.”

[tealnymph-writes]

Cherry Pie

Title: Fingers Trace Your Every Outline

After eating a slice of pie in the Spring Court, Gwyn finds herself desperate to be closer to Azriel and put an end to their accidental bout of abstinence.

Note: This was originally part of a collaboration of different works created for Kinktober 2021. To view the entire collection, visit my masterlist below.

Read on AO3

Warnings: NSFW. Very NSFW. Smut. Smuttiness for days.

Word Count: 8,476

Masterlist 

Gwyn watched Nesta disappear into the Spring Court manor before turning back to the pie tin in front of her with a relieved sigh, settling into the wicker chair she had sat in while she waited for Azriel to return. He had gone to check on some of his spies nearby while she and Nesta had gone around to the patio in search of their party. But no one seemed to be here, which made Gwyn even more annoyed than she already had been.

At least she didn’t have to pretend to be impressed by the gardens anymore. She wasn’t entirely sure why Nesta had insisted they tour them, as Gwyn had never liked perfectly manicured gardens like these ones. She had curated the wild, natural landscape of her and Azriel’s home for that very reason. But she suspected Nesta had simply wanted her to enjoy her first visit to the Spring Court, and she couldn’t begrudge her friend that, even if she would have preferred lounging on the patio the whole time.

As she stared across the moonlit gardens, she forked another bite of cherry pie into her mouth, sighing happily now that she was alone. She didn’t care if she was being rude to her hosts or not. She was starving, and all she wanted to do was go home and beg Azriel to make her pancakes. He made the best pancakes.

She huffed in annoyance, wishing she had refused this dinner invitation like Azriel had suggested. She liked Elain and Lucien, but the timing for this dinner couldn’t have been worse. She and Azriel had been working constantly, getting closer and closer to figuring out the last few causes behind the uprisings in Illyria, with the help of Cassian, Nesta, Emerie and Mor. Which meant they were more than a little worn out, and neither one of them was in the mood for a party.

It had been weeks since they had had a moment to just enjoy each other’s company, work and family obligations forcing them to sacrifice much needed alone time. It had made her far moodier than normal. And Azriel hadn’t been much better. The lack of sleep, and, unfortunately, sex was frustrating them both.

She couldn’t believe she had even hinted at her frustrations to Nesta. There were some things that she simply didn’t tell her friends - even Nesta and Emerie – for their sake and hers. It suited her just fine if they continued thinking she was innocent and shy about certain matters. It left her free to indulge her curiosity with Azriel without facing probing interrogations from her sisters. They would be beside themselves if they knew the things she let Azriel do to her. That she asked him to do to her.

She sighed, brushing her frustration away as she scooped up more pie. It was delightful, the tart cherries contrasting perfectly with the flaky crust. If only it wasn’t so damn hot in the Spring Court, then she could enjoy it more. She lightly fanned herself while savoring another bite, trying to cool herself off. Had it been this warm when they arrived?

“You know it’s rude to eat when you haven’t even greeted your hosts yet, right?” Azriel’s deep, amused voice came from behind her. She whirled around, fork still poised by her mouth, the incriminating remnants of pie lingering on the tip. Azriel’s face spread into a mirthful grin as he approached her, his shadows swirling around him as he crossed the patio and sank into the chair next to her.

“I was hungry,” she said primly, shamelessly pulling the pie tin toward her and scooping up the last bite. Azriel smirked, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault no one was here to greet us. Or feed us.”

“Fair enough,” he murmured, draping his arm behind her and absently toying with the thin strap of her flowy, green gown. She shifted in her seat, the heat making her even more distracted than she normally would be at her mate’s touch. Why was she so warm all of a sudden? “Where’s Nesta?”

“Oh, she went upstairs,” Gwyn hummed, setting down her fork and fanning herself. Gods she was hot. She was vaguely aware of Azriel raising his eyebrows at her, but all she could think about was the way he was rubbing her shoulder. Every stroke of his fingers seemed to ignite something in her.

“Nesta made us late to this and now she’s not even here,” Azriel grumbled, his wings flaring slightly in annoyance. “And our hosts aren’t here either. Remind me why we had to come to this dinner again.”

Gwyn remained silent, unable to find the words to respond. She would normally tease him to lessen his sour mood, but her mind was a puddle. There was no denying that there was a distinct warmth spreading between her legs, even though all Azriel had done was touch her shoulder. Her body was on fire – hot, burning desire filling her senses.

She knew they hadn’t had sex in almost two weeks because they had been too busy and tired, but that hardly justified how needy she suddenly felt. She was used to having him gone for a week or more at times, so this was hardly different, even if it had been frustrating. But nothing like this had ever happened to her. She felt positively desperate for him, and she had no idea why.

“Gwyn, are you okay?” Azriel asked, breaking into her hazy thoughts. She met his gaze, her cheeks flushing crimson as she tried to stay calm. His brow was furrowed, the hand on her shoulder squeezing gently. “You seem distracted, Bird.”

“I…I’m fine,” she forced out, clamping her thighs together as she stared at him. He was wearing a simple black tunic and pants, like he often did, but she found herself aching to undress him. To feel his skin on hers. The mere sight of him was making her slip further into whatever this strange haze was. What was happening to her?

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, but his jaw merely sagged open as she found herself reaching for the hem of her skirt, utterly throwing caution to the wind and letting this strange feeling completely take over. Without thinking, she hiked her dress up around her thighs and quickly moved to straddle Azriel, kicking off her shoes in the process. She moved too fast for him to argue, but as she tried to kiss him, he dodged her, staring in confusion.

“Gwyn, honey, I know we haven’t been as intimate as normal, but what the hell are you doing?” He questioned, gripping her waist. She ignored him, pressing her body into his, and sighing when she felt him hardening beneath her. “Gwyneth, did I miss something?”

She blinked, then shook her head before leaning down and kissing his jaw. He didn’t fight her, but he didn’t kiss her back either, which only spurred her on. She peppered his jaw with kisses, working her way down his throat as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. The aching in her body was inescapable, her core throbbing with need. Her earlier frustrations had now been replaced with an entirely different kind of hunger.

“Gwyn, talk to me, please,” Azriel urged, still resolutely refusing to touch her, his shadows swirling around them in thick waves. She kept kissing him, tugging at his shirt impatiently. She needed to feel him, to have his hands on her. “Gwyneth, I’m serious. As much as I’m enjoying this, will you please just…”

She moved to cut him off with a deep kiss, but he suddenly stopped speaking and captured her jaw in his hand, his eyes blazing. She froze, resisting the temptation to rock her hips into his now fully present erection. Azriel just stared at her, holding her face while she gaped in shock.

“Gwyn, show me your tongue please,” Azriel quietly commanded, his shadows deepening. She hesitantly obeyed, her body screaming at her to move against him, to touch herself, to do something. Anything. She just needed relief from the desire-filled haze that had overtaken her.

Azriel let out a deep sigh of frustration as he studied her tongue, then released her jaw, softly stroking her back as if to soothe her. “Gwyn, don’t panic, but that pie was laced with Red Iris powder, a drug used to make people unbearably aroused for roughly 12 hours unless you take the antidote,” he slowly explained, his tone measured. “We need to get you home, love.”

“Why would I panic?” she asked, ignoring his explanation, almost wanting to cry from how potent her arousal had become. She didn’t understand why Azriel seemed so worried. She clearly wasn’t the only one who had eaten the pie, so why did it matter? “How do you even know that?”

“My shadows found a note,” Azriel explained, his tone clipped, revealing just how aggravated he was. “The pie was a gift from Lucien’s parents. It was meant for tomorrow, but clearly things didn’t go as planned. That’s why your tongue is blue.”

“It is not!”

“Yes, it is,” he said firmly, gripping her thighs when she tried wiggling her hips again. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, but she was past the point of caring. The only thing that mattered to her now was getting him to make her cum. “Please just cooperate, Gwyn. If you let me take you home, I can make you the antidote.”

She shook her head and huffed in annoyance, leaning as far away from him as possible while still straddling him. The ache in her core was beyond distracting, but she was even more frustrated by his reaction to it. All she wanted was him, and he was blatantly refusing her because of a pie.

“I don’t want to go home,” she argued petulantly, her irritation growing. “It was just pie, Azriel. I don’t care about some ridiculous aphrodisiac. If you don’t want to have sex with me, then just say it.”

His eyes shot to hers, hot fury lacing his features. “Don’t go there,” he growled, roughly pulling her closer. “This has nothing to do with me not wanting to have sex with you. All I want to do is pleasure you in every possible way because I haven’t gotten to touch you like that in two fucking weeks, Gwyn. You know that.”

“Then take me,” she challenged, attempting to grind against him. The pure need coursing through her was becoming unbearable, the need to orgasm consuming every thought. “I need you, Az. If you really want me, then take me.”

“I can’t! You’re not thinking straight,” he argued, keeping her body still even while she continued trying to find some sort of friction. She let out a strangled sound of frustration, shoving at his chest in exasperation.

“Yes, I am!” She protested, shamelessly reaching a hand between her legs. If he wouldn’t touch her, then she would simply take care of it herself. A scarred hand halted her movements, gripping her wrists and holding them between their bodies.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he said quietly, a muscle in his jaw working furiously. She could tell she was treading dangerously close to the point of pushing him too far, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted him to lose control. To take her any way he pleased. She was past the point of wanting him to make love to her. She wanted him to fuck her.

“Az, please,” she begged, not bothering to resist his grip. Her mind was too full of her own wicked fantasies to put up much of a fight. “I need you. You can give me the antidote later if you want. I just want you. Please.”

“Gwyneth,” he rumbled, releasing her wrists and leaning back in his chair. She took advantage of her sudden freedom, shamelessly pulling her skirt farther up and rocking her hips into him, a loud moan of relief escaping her. “Fuck, Gwyn. I’m trying to do the right thing, and you’re making it incredibly difficult.”

She leaned down to kiss his jaw again, a tight coil of pleasure already building below her stomach just from the slight friction she was causing. “Then do the right thing and fuck me,” she challenged, trailing a hand up her waist and cupping her breast. “I want you so much, Az. I trust you. Please just touch me.”

He groaned loudly, then grabbed her hips again, taking back control of her movements. “Fine, but I am only doing this on my terms,” he conceded, his tone leaving no room for argument even while the scent of his arousal slowly mixed with hers. “Tell me your safe word.”

“Um…blade. It’s blade,” she reminded him, her heart racing with anticipation. She knew what it meant if he was asking for her safe word, and if she had been standing, her knees would have gone weak. He had very specific plans for her; plans that she was more than willing to let him carry out.

“Good. You won’t need mine tonight,” he assured her, his voice taking on the seductive tone that always made her shiver. “But you have to be quiet for me until I can get you home. We don’t want anyone to find us out here. Okay?”

She nodded quickly, willingly giving him control. Only with him did she ever completely let go. He was her mate; she was safe. Which meant she could let herself fully enjoy every second of this. And gods, she had missed him touching her. Even if it had only been two weeks.

She didn’t have to wait long for relief, as only a moment later he suddenly lifted her off his lap, and then her backside landed on the small metal table in front of them, Azriel’s large body cradled between her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to drag him down for a kiss, but she was once again met with resistance.

She whimpered, her back arching into him slightly. “Az, please, I need you,” she whined, clawing at the buttons of his shirt. He chuckled, but didn’t argue, helping her undo the buttons and quickly shrugging off his shirt. She let out a happy sigh as her hands roamed his chest, but it quickly turned into a moan of relief as his hand trailed up her thigh and hooked on the edge of her panties.

“Remember, if you want this to stop, just say your safe word or scratch my wings,” Azriel said as he slowly dragged her soaked panties down her legs. She lifted her hips for him, her skin flushed even while a cool breeze flicked across her aching center.

She nodded, pulling her dress around her waist to give him better access. He smirked as he finished dragging her panties off and tossed them to the side, his eyes roaming across her exposed center. Before she could beg him to touch her again, his mouth was on hers and his hands were pushing her thighs farther apart, fully spreading her out on the table. She gasped, bucking her hips toward him. He pushed her back down, nipping at her bottom lip as one of his hands cupped her soaked cunt.

His tongue teased her mouth open, claiming her as he palmed her core. She bucked her hips into his hand, moaning and gasping into his mouth. Her nails raked down his back as her legs wrapped around his waist. His free hand slipped behind her neck, angling her the way he wanted. For a small moment, she worried they might be seen by someone, but then his fingers were slipping between her wet folds and she was entirely at his mercy.

She broke away from the kiss, gasping for breath, but he didn’t stop, his mouth only moving down her throat. A cry escaped her as he found her entrance and sunk in two fingers, sliding easily into her. He raised his head with a chuckle, slowly pumping his fingers in and out.

“Shh, you need to be quiet, Sweetheart,” he reminded her, shoving his fingers roughly inside of her. The movement brought another loud moan to her lips, the sound echoing across the patio. He tsked, pulling his fingers out and repeating the same motion. “We’re going to get caught, little bird.”

She bit her lip, trying to hold back a whimper, but failing miserably. “You asshole,” she gasped out, shamelessly grinding her hips up to meet his thrusts. “You like it when I moan for you.”

“Mm, maybe I do,” he murmured, leaning down and nipping at her jaw. “Maybe I want everyone to hear you. To know who’s making you feel like this.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but the only sound that left was a soft sob of pleasure as his thumb came up to her clit and began circling it. His fingers increased their pace, fucking her relentlessly while she moaned and bucked her hips wildly. The pleasure was already beyond intense, her body drawing close to the edge. She clawed at his shoulders, biting her lip to try and stifle the cries flooding from her mouth.

He kept circling her clit, adding pressure as he thrust inside of her, curling his fingers to hit the spot that always made her come undone. As his mouth found hers again, pleasure exploded through her, her orgasm coming on so fast she had no time to prepare herself. She shattered, a scream bubbling up as burning ecstasy washed through her.

Azriel stifled the sound with his mouth, kissing her through her climax to keep her somewhat quiet. His fingers kept working her, drawing out every ounce of pleasure she could handle. Her body shook uncontrollably, her pussy clenching around his fingers while her release slowly eased. He gave her a few more slow thrusts, then removed his hand, pulling his mouth away to watch his fingers slipping out of her.

She watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, a small whimper leaving her at the sight. Somehow, despite how strong her climax had been, she was already aching for more, her body still throbbing with need. She clenched her thighs around him, forcing him to lean closer to her again. But he only smirked, dragging a single finger from her entrance to her clit and back again.

“You have to be patient, Sweetheart,” he commanded, gripping her hips and pulling her against him. She gasped, reaching for the buckle on his pants. But he pushed her away, holding her wrists in one large hand. “Not yet, Bird. Tell me what you want first.”

“Fuck me, Az,” she whispered, knowing he liked it when she was very specific with her requests. She could feel how hard he was, and it made her mouth water. “Please. I…I want to feel you inside of me. I want your cock. I just want you to fuck me. Please, Az.”

“Such dirty words from such a pretty mouth,” he smirked, satisfaction blazing in his eyes as he brushed his thumb across her lips. She squirmed in his arms, a fresh wave of heat flooding her. “Hmm, I like the idea of having my cock inside of you, but I don’t think it should be that easy. Do you?”

She trembled, but managed to shake her head, heated anticipation building. Gods, she loved it when he was like this. All demanding and uncontrolled. It made her shiver just thinking about what he would do to her.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, finally releasing her wrists. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around his neck, trembling with excitement and desire. “I’m going to take you home, and you’re going to do exactly as I say. And if you’re good, then I might just let you have your way. Okay?”

“Yes, please,” she eagerly nodded, clinging to him, still half naked in his arms. He smiled, his hands gripping her ass, and then he winnowed, plunging them momentarily into darkness.

Only a second later, they reappeared in their seaside home, Azriel’s shadows swirling around them in excited circles. He strode purposefully up the stairs, not bothering to turn on any fae lights as he carried her to their bedroom. Gwyn clung to him, the drug still coursing through her body screaming at her to find release. She was once again overcome with the need to climax, the slight rubbing of Azriel’s bare chest against her clit causing her eyes to flutter shut with pleasure.

Before she could fully process what was happening, she was being set down on the end of their large bed. She tried to pull Azriel down with her, thinking he was going to join her, but he pulled away, leaving her spread out on the bed for him. She gaped at him, not caring that her dress was still bunched around her waist, exposing her.

He smiled at her, walking to the dresser in the corner and pulling out two familiar silky items, along with something that she couldn’t quite see before he tucked it behind his back. As he approached her, she leaned up on her elbows, ignoring the increased wetness between her legs at the sight of the ribbon and blindfold in his hands.

“Stand up,” he demanded, his eyes dropping to her core. She obeyed without question, her normal tendency to tease him fading in the face of her desperate need to orgasm again. Her dress fluttered around her, concealing her core from view, but she knew it wouldn’t take long before Azriel had her undressed and exposed again.

He kissed her softly, brushing her hair back from her face with a smile. Then he carefully slipped the blindfold over her eyes, rendering her completely at his mercy. This wasn’t the first time they had done something like this, but her arousal was almost unbearable, reminding her of the first time they had ever played with ribbons and blindfolds.

“Are you thinking of our mating frenzy?” Azriel quietly asked, sensing the direction of her thoughts. “Are you thinking of that night when I tied you up and fucked you until dawn? Does it make you wet, Sweetheart?”

She weakly nodded, helpless to her own desires. He guided her to where he wanted her, turning her until she was almost sure she was facing the bed, her knees trembling with anticipation and want. She could feel herself almost dripping with arousal, his shadows slowly caressing their way up her legs as she tried to hold still. She felt Azriel’s hands leave her for a moment, but then she felt the familiar cool touch of a blade on her skin.

She shivered, the cold of the metal contrasting with her burning desire. Azriel dragged the blade up her arm, his body just far enough away that she couldn’t quite tell where he was standing. She stood perfectly still, waiting for him to move or say something. But he remained quiet, dragging the blade torturously slow up her arm until she could feel the tip slip beneath the strap of her gown. In one swift motion, one side of her dress suddenly slipped, exposing her breast.

She gasped but managed to remain motionless. Cool air danced across her skin as the blade traveled across her collarbone, slowly gliding under the second strap. A second later, her gown fell to the floor, leaving her completely bare for him.

“I’ll buy you a new dress, love. I promise,” Azriel murmured from next to her, his breath tickling the skin on her shoulder.

“What if I liked that dress?” She questioned; her voice far breathier than she had intended.

He chuckled quietly. “Then I’ll buy you the same one,” he suggested, his hands ghosting up her sides before slowly pulling her arms in front of her. “Tell me now, and we can stop.”

“Keep going,” she demanded, desperate to feel him closer but grateful that he was still making sure she was okay first – as he always did. The normalcy of his actions helped make this strange evening easier, allowing her to fully give in to the irresistible desire she felt.

“Tell me if it’s too tight,” he replied, slipping the ribbon around her wrists. She shifted impatiently in front of him, biting her lip as he expertly knotted the ribbon, forcing her to rely on his help if she wanted to move.

He pulled away, his shadows still softly caressing her. She waited, praying he would start touching her now. His hands drifted to her waist, hovering just above her hips, his thumbs stroking her skin. The wetness between her legs had fully spread across her thighs now, her nipples peaked in the cool air, goosebumps spreading across her body.

She felt his hands pull away, leaving just the tips of his fingers on her skin as she heard him moving. His shadows followed the path of their master, drawing patterns across her body as Azriel slowly traced every inch of her. The movement of his fingers kept her anchored, stopping her from becoming too disoriented. Each stroke of his hands sent shivers down her spine, her chest heaving as he circled her.

His hands drifted dangerously close to her most sensitive areas, teasing her before he pulled away. Each movement of his fingers felt like he was branding her, each touch so sensual, so deliberate that her knees shook from the sheer force of her arousal. Finally, she felt him come to a stop in front of her, his hands resting on her sides, just underneath her breasts.

His lips grazed the shell of her ear. “Kneel,” he commanded, his voice low and rough. She sucked in a breath, her chest heaving.

“I…I need help,” she admitted, wanting to obey him but unsure if she could get on her knees without falling. She already felt unsteady, and the lack of mobility in her arms only made it worse. “Please, Azriel.”

His hands found her elbows, gently guiding her to the floor. She lowered herself without question, trusting him to keep her safe. She felt him kneeling with her, and confusion fluttered in her chest. She had thought he wanted her on her knees for other reasons, but that wouldn’t work if he was on his knees too.

When she was settled on the ground, her breasts jutting out in front of her as she sat back on her heels, he kissed her slowly. She opened for him eagerly, whining softly when he pulled away too quickly. But then his hand was gently pushing her legs apart, his fingers just barely brushing over her slick sex, and she was overcome with need. She was ready to beg if that’s what he wanted her to do, as long as it meant he made her cum.

“Gwyn, I need you to trust me,” he whispered, his hand still hovering between her legs. She felt his other hand slip past her thigh, joining the other underneath her. “I’m going to try something different to try to help take off the edge from the drug. Is that okay?”

She nodded. “Yes, I trust you, Az,” she assured him, her legs shaking. She thought she might faint from how potent her arousal was. It was like being in the mating frenzy again, except she felt like she had no control over her own body, which was far more difficult to handle than the frenzy had been. At least then she had been able to exhibit some restraint when necessary. She was quickly understanding why Azriel had wanted her to take the antidote to this odd drug.

“Keep your legs spread for me, Bird,” Azriel commanded, accepting her answer. She forced herself to pay attention, trying to ignore the desperate clawing of desire that was ripping through her body. “This is going to feel strange, but just stay relaxed.”

She thought about asking what he meant, but she never found the words, the sudden movement of his hands between her legs forcing every thought from her head. A finger circled her entrance, gently entering her before pulling out. But it was quickly replaced with something cold and hard, the mysterious object slipping easily inside of her.

As her inner walls involuntarily clenched around the item, she suddenly realized what it was, a breathless giggle escaping her as Azriel slowly finished putting it inside of her. It was the gift Nesta had jokingly given her for her birthday, a glass sex toy that Nesta had said might be useful for when Azriel was away. Gwyn had never used it, partially from nerves, but mostly because she had grown accustomed to Azriel’s hard warmth inside of her. She thought the toy would feel strange, and she was quickly realizing she had been right.

But gods, did it feel good. It wasn’t quite as large as Azriel, but the odd ridges that ran along the sides of it made up for it. Every time she so much as breathed, it shifted just slightly inside of her, teasing her enough to cause her breathing to turn ragged. But, to her surprise, Azriel didn’t move the toy. Instead, he released his hold on it, his shadows replacing his fingers and holding it in place. She whimpered, quickly growing desperate for Azriel to fuck her with the toy.

To her dismay, she felt him move away from her, leaving her side, the toy still resting in her aching cunt. She whined, her inner walls clenching fruitlessly around the object. His shadows didn’t help, as they kept gently caressing her clit, her breasts, her neck – everywhere.

“Azriel, please, I…gods, please,” she moaned, shifting frantically to try and bounce her hips up and down on the toy. But his shadows kept it in place, denying her the movement she wanted. “Az, I want to cum. Please.”

“Shh, it’s all right,” he assured her, his voice much too far away for her liking. “All you have to do is stay exactly like that for five minutes. Then, if you’re good, I’ll come back and do anything you want me to. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?”

“Az, I…what?” She stumbled out, the pressure from the toy making her almost dizzy with need. “Where are you going? Are you just going to leave me here?”

“I’ll be back in just a few minutes, Sweetheart.”

And with that, she heard the door open and shut, leaving her alone in the darkness. His shadows remained with her, coaxing small whimpers of pleasure from her as they teased her body. She tried to stay as still as possible, but every second felt like an eternity, the glass toy inside of her a constant reminder of how much she needed to cum. Azriel’s shadows began working her clit, adding pressure to her already throbbing core, her whimpers turning into moans.

But she still couldn’t find enough friction to climax, the shadows keeping her release just out of reach. She wanted to scream in frustration, the blindfold keeping her from knowing how much time had passed. Her safe word floated through her head, something that rarely happened, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could handle this. Her body was screaming at her with the need to orgasm, every inch of her body aching with need.

But just as she truly considered saying her safe word, desperation clawing at her throat, she heard Azriel reenter the bedroom. She sagged in relief, softly sobbing as she heard him approaching. She heard rustling, and then movement in front of her, followed by scarred hands cupping her face. His lips pressed against her temple, his thumbs stroking her cheeks reassuringly.

“Shhh, it’s all right. I promised I’d be back, Sweetheart,” he murmured, peppering her face with kisses. She sighed with relief, too needy to form words. “You did so good, little bird. You were so patient. I think you deserve a reward. Would you like that?”

“Yes, please,” she moaned, forcing the words out, nodding frantically. She clenched her thighs, causing the glass toy to shift, drawing a gasp from her lips. “Oh gods, Az! Please, please do something.”

“Shhh, it’s okay, I will,” he promised, brushing his hands through her hair. “Do you still want me to fuck you, or do you want something else? You’ve done so well, love. Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

She whimpered, shifting restlessly on her knees, her wetness fully dripping down her legs now. “I…I still want that,” she whispered, her mind a frenzy of heat and need. She felt dizzy, her desperation to climax reaching new heights. “But I…I need you to touch me. Please, Az. Please, just touch me. I need your hands, your mouth, anything. Please. I need you.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he soothed her, gripping her elbows to guide her to stand up again. She obediently stood, her legs shaking uncontrollably, the glass toy still nestled inside of her throbbing center.

“Come here, Sweetheart,” he murmured, guiding her forward before turning her around. The backs of her knees hit the bed, and he helped her sit on the edge, his warmth filling her with renewed arousal. She clenched her thighs, clawing at the restraints on her wrists. She wanted to touch him, to feel his skin beneath her.

He helped her shimmy backward, easing her onto her back as he crawled over her, kneeling between her legs. She trembled, her inner walls fluttering around the glass toy as Azriel shifted her arms until they were stretched out over her head, the familiar tug of his shadows pulling on the ribbon to keep her in place. His breath danced across her skin, his mouth ghosting along her chest before finally meeting her lips softly. She bucked her hips up, trying to find his body, but he pushed her back down as he pulled away, one hand gripping her hip while the other trailed up her thigh.

And then the toy was suddenly pulled out of her, drawing out to the tip before shoving back in. She cried out, her back arching as her wrists strained at the ribbon. He pulled the toy out again, dragging the tip through her wet folds and circling her clit before slipping down to her entrance again. He eased the toy back in, only going a few inches before pulling it out. She gasped and whimpered, frantically pushing her hips up to meet his thrusts.

But he kept her in place, alternating between barely putting the toy inside of her to tease her and roughly thrusting it in until she was crying out in pleasure. His movements were unpredictable, making each sensation heightened, her inner walls fluttering uncontrollably as he fucked her with the glass toy. Then his shadows joined in, stroking her most sensitive places, nipping at her before Azriel soothed the marks with his tongue.

“Look at you, so needy,” he murmured against her skin, his lips trailing down to her breasts. “I thought you wanted my cock, Bird, but you seem to be doing fine without it. I guess I don’t need to fuck you after all…”

She let out a soft sob, arching her back into his mouth as his lips wrapped around her nipple. “No…no, please,” she whimpered, tugging at the restraints as he roughly thrust the toy into her again, his teeth nipping at her swollen peaks. “Please, Az! I still need you. Please. Oh gods, please. I want you to fuck me.”

“Hmmm, I’m not so sure, Gwyn,” he drawled, suckling at her sensitive nipples while dragging the toy in and out. “You’re already squirming, and I’m not even in you yet. How do I know you really want me? If you don’t want to have sex with me, you can just say it.”

“You asshole!” She screeched as he drew his mouth away from her, taunting her with her own words from earlier. He dragged the toy to her clit and back to her entrance, inserting it just enough to make her squirm again. “Just fuck me, please! I want you. I want you to take me. I want you to cum inside of me. Please. Please, Az!”

“Mmm, if you insist,” he chuckled, the sound coming from somewhere close to her legs. The hand on her hip prevented her from moving enough to reach him, the throbbing in her core making her frantic for him. “But…I think I’ll have dessert first.”

Before she could utter more than a small whimper, the toy was roughly pulled away from her, only to be replaced a second later with Azriel’s mouth. His tongue swirled her entrance, then delved into her, thrusting into her already aching cunt. Her back arched off the bed, her thighs clamping around him as pleasure burst through her.

His shadows kept her restrained, holding the ribbon down and preventing her from touching him. She squirmed frantically, shamelessly grinding her hips into his mouth. His tongue stroked up to her clit, circling it before his teeth nipped at her, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She cried out, feeling her climax fast approaching. She was already so overly sensitive from his previous ministrations that she knew she wouldn’t last long with his expert mouth working her.

“Azriel, oh gods, yes!” She sobbed, her pussy clenching uncontrollably as he alternated between fucking her with his tongue and teasing her clit. “I’m…I’m not going to last long. Please. Oh gods. Az, Az, Az…”

Her pleas trailed off into a string of whimpers and sobs as his thumb found her clit, rubbing her steadily while his tongue delved into her relentlessly. She felt him chuckle against her, the vibration shooting through her and making her almost scream in ecstasy. With one final thrust of his tongue, his fingers stroking her clit, she fell over the edge.

Her back arched into him, a scream echoing through the room as hot bursts of pleasure shot through her, his tongue still fucking her as her inner walls fluttered around him. He continued working her until her body slowly relaxed, a small whimper escaping her as she tried to come back down from her high. He licked at her entrance, then swept up to her clit with one long stroke before finally pulling away.

She collapsed onto the bed, her body shaking yet somehow still aching with need. She was exhausted and overly sensitive, but the aphrodisiac was already beginning to urge her to find release again. She was far too tired to resist, going utterly pliant as Azriel slipped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap.

She fell against his chest, her still restrained arms tucked between them, her head resting on his shoulder as he stroked her back. She realized he must have removed his pants at some point because his very prominent erection was pressing into her stomach, drawing a needy moan from her. She was past the point of words, merely attempting to wiggle her hips to indicate what she wanted. She needed him inside of her. Needed to feel his hard length filling her as only he could.

“Try to breathe, Gwyn,” Azriel soothed her, shifting until he seemed to be in a seated position. He eased the blindfold off, allowing her to finally see him. “You’re doing so well, Sweetheart. So fucking well.”

She softly mewled, blinking as her eyes readjusted and squirming in his arms in a desperate attempt to get him to slip inside of her, but he held her firmly, keeping her still. She clenched her thighs around him, her core somehow even more wet than it had been. His cock twitched beneath her, indicating how much he was holding himself back.

“Az, please,” she managed to whisper, clawing at the ribbon on her wrists. “I need you. Please. I want to cum for you. I want you inside me. Please.”

“Mmm, so eager,” he murmured, kissing his way down her shoulder, his hands drifting to her ass and squeezing. “I think you’ve earned it. You’ve been so good for me, Sweetheart.”

She moaned at his words, gasping in relief when he shifted her over his length, positioning her how he wanted before sliding into her tight, throbbing cunt. She sobbed in ecstasy, reveling in how full she felt as he entered her. He pulled her tightly to him, adjusting her arms until they were over his neck, allowing her to press her body firmly against his. Her peaked nipples scraped against his hard chest, her walls already tightening around his cock.

She waited for him to do something, but he merely stroked her hips with his thumbs, his mouth still softly kissing her throat as he worked his way toward her chest. She shifted on him, clenching her thighs to try and get him to move. But still, nothing. She could feel his cock twitching inside of her, but he refused to do anything besides continue his leisurely exploration.

“Az…please, I need you to move,” she pleaded, her clit throbbing with need. It was rare for her to beg so willingly, even though she knew he liked it, but she was too desperate to tease him like she normally would. “I need to cum. Please, Azriel.”

“Then cum,” he commanded, his voice rough and full of heat. She sucked in a breath, her nipples once again peaking from her arousal. “Fuck yourself on my cock. I want to watch you riding me, so use me. Show me how much you need me, little bird. Fuck me.”

She stared at him, waiting to see if he was only teasing her again, but he gripped her hips harder, urging her on. She began slowly raising her hips, then let her body slip back down, adjusting to riding him while her hands were still bound. Azriel groaned deeply as she found a rhythm, bouncing her hips on him, his hardened length hitting her at an angle that quickly had her moaning in pleasure.

Azriel used one hand to keep her steady while he trailed the other up to her breasts, lightly squeezing before he began teasing her nipple. She clawed harder at the restraints, aching to touch him. Her walls clenched around his cock with every snap of her hips, leaving them both panting and moaning as they drew closer to release.

“You look so pretty like this,” Azriel groaned, his mouth roaming her skin, leaving small marks where he let his teeth nip at her. She bucked her hips harder, his encouragement spurring her on “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Gwyn. Gods, you feel good…”

His words trailed off as he threw his head back with a groan, his hands dropping to her hips and gripping her so tightly she knew it would bruise later. She moaned loudly when he pulled her down harder onto him, finally giving her the help she had wanted before. The restraints dug into her wrists as she desperately tried to touch him, her throbbing core fluttering around him as he began thrusting his hips up to meet hers.

“Azriel, I want to touch you. Please,” she whimpered, wildly rocking her hips in time with his. “Please let me touch you. Oh gods…it feels so good, please. I need to touch you.”

He chuckled, one hand drifting between them and stroking the area just above the apex of her thighs. She gasped and bucked uncontrollably, trying to get his hand to slip toward her clit. His fingers dug into her hip, his cock thrusting into her harder and harder with every movement.

“I’ll let you touch me on one condition, Sweetheart,” he growled, his eyes blazing as the hand near her center finally drifted down. She gasped as he began rubbing her clit, circling it with his fingers while he roughly thrust into her. “Never question how much I fucking want you again.”

He emphasized his demand with several hard thrusts upward, her body trembling with the force of how hard he was fucking her. She managed to nod while she clenched her walls frantically around his cock, moaning relentlessly as pleasure built in her core. But he still didn’t release her restraints, silently telling her that he wanted a verbal response from her.

“I…I won’t,” she agreed, mewling softly as the pressure of his fingers increased on her clit. His cock twitched inside of her, his thrusts hitting the sweet spot in her core that would have her coming undone in seconds. “I won’t question it. I promise. Oh gods, please. Please Az!”

As her words flooded out, she felt the ribbon around her wrists snap, his shadows releasing her from the restraints and allowing her to finally touch Azriel. She scratched at his shoulders, one hand delving into his hair while the other trailed down his back. He groaned deeply again, biting at her shoulder while she used him as leverage to grind on him harder, meeting his deep thrusts.

Their sounds of ecstasy filled the room, the hand on her clit helping push her toward the edge. Their movements were filled with desperate, uncontrolled need; their unintended abstinence from sex making them both almost wild with lust for each other.

With one more hard thrust from Azriel, pleasure burst through Gwyn’s senses, her orgasm crashing over her as she cried out in pleasure. Azriel’s name fell from her lips in a stream of whimpers and cries, her ecstasy drowning out everything. He kept fucking her through it, his hips snapping up to hers as her release shook her body.

As her climax eased, he flipped them over, his hand leaving her clit to grip her hips again. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued fucking her relentlessly, his cock slamming into her at a punishing pace. Her nails scraped at his back, another orgasm already building in her core, her inner walls clenching harder around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded roughly, looking at her through his lashes as he barreled toward his own release. She obeyed without question, reaching a hand between them to rub her clit, moaning loudly at the added sensation. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Gwyn.”

“Yes! Oh gods, yes, Az!” She cried, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt his body shudder, his release spilling into her. His head fell to her shoulder, his movements erratic as he fell over the edge, her name on his lips.

She followed him a moment later, pleasure washing over her once again as she climaxed, their bodies trembling as they both rode out their highs. His pace slowly eased as the last moments of pleasure filled them. They clung to each other, their breathing ragged, their bodies still joined.

They stayed like that for several minutes, his cock still inside of her, their bodies tangled together. She slowly removed her hand from between them, stroking his back as their breathing returned to normal. But just as she thought she was finally returning to normal, arousal once again built, the ache in her core making her whine in exhaustion.

“Are you all right, Love?” Azriel murmured, his breath tickling her skin. “Was that too much? Did I go too far?”

She let out a sound that was half sob half laugh. “No, you were perfect,” she assured him, shifting restlessly beneath him. “But…please tell me you made the antidote.”

He lifted his head with an amused smile, chuckling as he eased out of her. “It’s in the kitchen,” he explained, kneeling above her. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and then we can go get it.”

She smiled in relief, sagging onto the bed as he went to retrieve a damp cloth to clean her up. She had enjoyed every second of tonight, but she was utterly exhausted. Not to mention, she was still starving. She wasn’t sure she could handle anymore wild sex unless she had food and a nap first.

To her delight, within 10 minutes she was perched on the kitchen counter, dressed in one of Azriel’s shirts, happily watching him collect the ingredients to make her pancakes while she sipped on her second cup of tea. The bitterness from the tea would normally have bothered her, but the relief the first cup had given her was enough to make her continue drinking it.

“Feeling better?” Azriel asked her with a smile, pausing his search to slide in between her legs, his hands stroking her thighs. She nodded happily, the ache in her core finally eased. “Good. What kind of pancakes do you want?”

She grinned, setting aside her empty teacup to give him a quick kiss. “Chocolate chip, please,” she requested, giggling when he pinched her sides playfully. “Thank you, Azriel. For the pancakes, and for taking care of me.”

“Mmm, my pleasure,” he murmured, leaning in for another kiss. She willingly obliged him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you, Bird.”

“I love you too,” she whispered against him, leaning her forehead against his. “After the pancakes, can we just cuddle? I’ve missed spending alone time with you these past few weeks.”

He smiled, kissing her softly before responding. “I’ve missed you too,” he agreed, pausing to kiss her again. “We can cuddle for as long as you want tonight. And tomorrow, we’re not going anywhere. I’d like you all to myself for a while.”

She giggled, letting him pepper her with kisses before he turned away to retrieve the chocolate morsels for the pancakes, her heart bursting with happiness. As Azriel mixed the pancake batter, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence, a thought popped into her head.

“Azriel?”

“Yes, my love?”

“No one else had the antidote…” she commented, thinking of their friends and family back in the Spring Court. She hadn’t been the only one to eat that pie, but she had been the only one given the antidote as far as she knew. That would certainly explain the lack of greeting when they had arrived for dinner.

Azriel turned to her, his eyes wide as he met her amused face, and then he burst into laughter, his deep rumble echoing through the kitchen. As Gwyn watched her mate double over with mirth, she couldn’t hold back the stream of giggles that flooded out, the two of them happily lost in each other. A slice of pie might have changed their plans for the evening, but she was right where she belonged.

[the-swedes-knees]

Time in A Bottle (Agent Mobius x Reader)

Summary: Everyone has a guilty pleasure. For Mobius, it's a slice of pie in a very specific slice of time.

Word Count: 1.8k

Located in the middle of Downtown, bordering on the corner of old-time druggies and newly gentrified condos was a moderate sized building with an exorbitant monthly rent. 

It was a theme restaurant, if the theme was 'we opened in 1953 and we'll be damned if we change the decor'- done up in chrome and frosted glass windows that clashed against the surrounding brick and mortar. The neon sign bearing the establishment's name had burnt out years ago, but it wasn't the type of place one would seek out.

Unless you were Mobius, that is.

[09:45:00]

Technically, he shouldn't be here.

His unit was nearly a mile out, or, more accurately, they would be within the hour. Dates like this, where a simple flap of a fat pigeon's wing could ripple into Nexus event after Nexus event had a name. A proper designation in their severity and frequency of necessary resets.

But he just always referred to them as 'a real pickle'.

You glance up at the front door as the brass bell affixed to the frame jingles loudly. The man that enters looks around the place before making eye contact with you and smiles. He points to the empty bar and you nod your head.

Once you finish refilling the other customer's drink, you see that he's made himself comfortable in the middle stool.

"Hey there." You greet from the opposite side of the counter. He offers a sheepish greeting in response as you set a water down in front of him, balancing a plastic straw on the rim of the glass. "Can I start you off with some coffee? Just made a fresh pot."

"That'd be great, thanks."

You place the mug and matching saucer in front of him and pour. For a moment you look up at him, and he's smiling a very genuine smile- something very rare these days.

As soon as it's full to the brim you're reaching under the counter and grabbing a clean glass sugar pourer, placing it right next to his cup.

"How'd you know?"

"Customer service intuition, I guess." He thanks you before unfurling the napkin containing his flatware. Like someone with real proper manners, he drapes the napkin over one of his legs before stirring an ample amount of sugar into his drink.

You can't help but notice just how much he fits in to the whole aesthetic with his well fitted brown suit and slim tie. New York offered a multiplicity of personalities, and you'd become quite numb to anything and everything that would walk through that door.

Yet, someone about this man was intriguing, familiar in a way. Like in the past life he was a PI that you hired to confirm your husband's affair.

Both a confidant, and a stranger.

"Feel free to take your time, but, do you know what you'd like?" You note his closed menu pushed to the side. He raises his eyebrows and nods while mid-sip, and you pull out a notepad and pen from your apron.

"Sure do, could I get two slices?" He points the vintage rotating pie cooler to your left and specifies his selection.

Easy enough. You put two generous slices onto separate plates, and he declines your offer of whipped cream or ice cream on top.

"Good choice, this one's my favorite."

"You don't say." The knowing twinkle in his eye wasn't noticed as you busied yourself with refilling his coffee. He holds his hands up in mock defeat and sighs. "Well, I guess you'll have to join me." The ceramic scraped against the quartz tabletop as he pushed one of the plates across the bar, directly opposite himself.

"I'm on the clock-"

"Don't worry, another customer doesn't come in for-" He pauses to flex his arm, riding his jacket sleeve up just enough to check his wristwatch. "12 minutes and 43 seconds."

[09:52:16]

"Am I supposed to trust you on that?" You raise an eyebrow, and his only response is a slight head tilt and pushing the second slice a nudge closer to you.

It wasn't every day courteous men offered you a break in the form of your favorite desert. Your face screwed up in contemplation as you looked at the only other two patrons in the diner before giving in and grabbing a second set of flatware. "Well, it is slow-"

"For a Friday?" He has another bite before setting down his fork and dabbing at his face with his napkin.

"Is it Friday already?" You sigh, bent over the counter to take a bite of the pie. Delicious as ever. "Hardly feels like it, all the days are melding together."

"I think this one will stand out."

"What is the date, anyway?"

"May 4th." You make a hum of acknowledgement and he gives you a lopsided grin. "2012, incase you forgot the year too."

"I'll mark it in my calendar," You laugh, using your hand to cover your mouth as you continue to chew. "'The Day I Met-'"

"Mobius." He introduces himself, extending his hand over the counter and you shake it. His grip is firm, authoritative. Before you can reply with your own name, he refers to you by it while maintaining perfect eye contact.

You can't explain why, but it feels so right when he says it. Like it was perfectly made to be pronounced in his charming Texan drawl with just the faintest hint of gravel.

While you're fixed in a stunned silence his eyes deliberately dart to the lapel of your uniform. You follow his gaze and laugh at yourself for neglecting that you were indeed wearing a nametag.

"So Mobius... like, from maths?"

"Yeah, like math." He eyes his untouched water and picks up the plastic straw. His fingers move carefully, removing the straw from the perorated paper. You watch with curiosity as the man twists the paper once and pinches the two ends together with his thumb and index finger.

Mobius holds his opposite hand out to you, confident, waiting. With a bemused smile you allow him to guide your hand. His skin is warm, presumably from the way he had cradled his coffee mug, but it's comforting in a way. His rough hand guides you, your finger tracing the geometry of the paper-straw shape.

"A path that twists and turns... but always ends back at the same spot."

"I wasn't very good at math." You admit, and gesture around as if working in a place like this was a testament to that fact. "Why does it matter that it always ends where it began?"

"Well, that all depends on perspective. Maybe it doesn't matter. But to the one who observes it, it makes all the difference." You quirk an eyebrow, silently pressing him to elaborate. "Maybe that point's... where you got your first kiss, the feeling when your favorite football team scores a winning touchdown, a perfect sunset-"

Mobius catches himself trailing off, and looks down at his plate. He puts another bite onto his fork and cheers it to you.

"Or having pie in good company."

You look around the mostly empty diner before bracing your arms against the counter, leaning in as if you were to whisper some great secret.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit odd?"

[09:59:06]

"No-" His eyes crinkle as he laughs. "No, that's a new one. But you find it charming." He winked, actually winked, and leaned back in his stool, smirking into his coffee.

Your fork was halfway to your mouth as your just stared at him, frozen. You feel your mouth open and close a few times as you try to think of a somewhat dignified response.

"How would you know that?"

"I just know things." He shrugged.

"Like what?" You challenged.

"How about, Paul- over there." You crane your head to follow his line of eye, your coworker currently bussing a table that had just left. "Worked in this place five years, loves Coke- from the glass bottle, nothing else. Has a girl on the Upper East Side and runs a decent sized internet radio station out of his apartment."

"You're one of his listeners." You narrowed your eyes at him, a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"Oh, no. Hyperpop... not my style."

"Alright, BBC Sherlock-" You countered. You give a subtle head tilt to a woman sitting in a far off booth, papers spread out on the table around her pancake combo. Whoever she was, she definitely wasn't a regular. "How about her?"

"Mrs. Braverman. Youngest of eight siblings, English teacher at the charter school up the avenue. Actually prefers imitation maple syrup to the real thing."

You know very well Mobius could be talking out of his ass. But he's confident, nonchalantly so- like this was a game to him and he was obviously winning.

"What about me?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Your anticipation is palpable as he swallows his final bite, taking the time to wipe his face of crumbs before smiling softly at you.

"You are... a poem of a person. Charming, capable, when you walk into a room people notice- even if you convince yourself that they don't." His gaze is steady, patient, and he's looking at you as if you're the only person in the universe. "You have big dreams, far beyond all... this... and you're gonna make it."

[10:04:59]

The sound of the door chime breaks you out of whatever hypnotic state you had found yourself in. Sucking in a breath and blinking away the very beginnings of tears in your eyes you tell the new customer to sit wherever they like.

Mobius took this chance to check his handheld, sighing at the time and the ever-growing slope of the branch variation.

The reset charge would be set soon, with or without him there.

"Look at that. Duty calls." He stands up and pulls a billfold from his jacket pocket, not even counting as he puts the cash down on the counter.

Mobius turns to leave, but hesitates. He turns back around to face you and places his hands on his hips. Allowing himself to play into the fleeting illusion just a tad longer.

"One more thing I know about you-" Mobius rubbed his chin in careful consideration. "You have a date tonight."

"Ah-" You wag your finger at him and shake your head side to side, "got one wrong."

"Did I? Ah- well... How about we change that?"

You pause. The plates you had been holding found their way back to the counter as you set them down slowly. Once again in a very short time span, he had left you speechless.

"That... was possibly the lamest pickup line I've ever heard." Though you mean it to be snarky, it sounds more like praise coming from your smiling lips. "I get off at 6:30."

"Alright." He looks perfectly pleased with himself as he lightly knocks on the counter with his fist. "It's a date."

Walking out the door, Mobius gave one last look at the diner before reporting to the event site.

He knew would see you again, always at 9:45.

[dgcatanisiri]

“If you want to romance [same sex love interest], just roll a[n opposite sex] PC! You’re so greedy to want [additional romance option] when you already have [singular same-sex romance option]! Some people are just straight and you should just deal with it! You should respect the WRITER’S VISION!”

Not that it’s news, but dear. GOD. do I hate it when people start arguing this shit. Because really. Do you think that it’s news that “some people are just straight”? How the fuck is it greedy to want to have even the little bit of a crumb that ONE more same-sex romance option would offer, when the slice of pie that heterosexuals get is 99% of the whole damn thing? Why do I have to give up a part of my identity to play the romance that connects to me?

And you know, sometimes, that really is the kicker for me. That so many people just don’t seem to get the power and importance of experiencing a story in a way that validates your identity is. And it’s generally because they don’t NEED that validation.

I mean, I think back to my first play of Jade Empire, the first game I played that even HAD a same-sex romance option. And looking back on it from nearly fifteen years after that first run, I can tell you, it is VERY flawed as a result of that whole “the game came out in 2005, same-sex romance is still something that inherently gets the M rating” side of things. But despite all the reason I have from today’s perspective to say “this isn’t as good as it could have been if it had been released a few years later,” it’s still one of those things that just inherently makes me feel SEEN.

So why do I have to sacrifice that, just to get the romance option who fits right with me? Straight people ALWAYS get to be seen - hell, usually, they don’t even QUESTION when a romance is default into the story. I’ve never seen the straights argue that, say, Ezio’s relationship with Sofia is shallow, or that we don’t know enough about a character like Randvi. Straight people didn’t argue that there really wasn’t much reason for Starkiller to fall so in love with Juno that he’d just automatically go back for her on the Ecliptic. Mario’s motivation is so often Princess Peach, and no one asks for the relationship to be developed, it’s accepted as just a default THING. To say nothing of how many games offer optional flings, but, if they even allow same-sex encounters, which is no guarantee, the male options are significantly fewer, so it’s clear that the expectation is that a male PC is taking every woman around them to bed, not that gay people are playing.

Or, sticking to BioWare, the straights don’t mind that Liara is shoved at Shepard every chance BioWare can arrange, her relationship with Shepard emphasized over all others. Leliana has a romance mechanic so obtuse that offering her kind words can get you locked in. Both have instances of bugs where there’s an assumption of romance, and no effort has ever been made to fix them (leading me to want to put the word “bugs” in quotes...). Peebee sits on Ryder for an uncomfortably long time and unless Ryder’s played a romance through to its conclusion beforehand, will explicitly offer a hook up with Ryder.

Or we have a game like Cyberpunk, where Panam has no real, clear cut “I’m not interested” option, with a lot of assumption that a male V is romancing her from everyone around them. Meanwhile, the one gay romance in that game is not only gated behind so much in the way of progression barricades, you could be forgiven for missing him entirely, AND is framed in a way that has him still hung up on Johnny over anything else.

And there’s the fact that it’s ALWAYS same-sex romance content that gets cut. How many times have we heard about “[character] was going to be a same-sex romance, but we had to make cuts for time”? Saying nothing of things like Jacob and Jack’s same-sex romances getting cut in ME2 because of negative press from freaking Fox News...

But no. It’s always us gays who are being greedy, being demanding, being ungrateful because we didn’t HAVE to be included, and it’s just... You people just can’t seem to conceive of the fact that people not like you have to fight and drag every moment of representation we get on screen.

And they don’t listen, either. All the explanation I just poured out here, if I repeated it to any of the people who hurl this shit at any of us angry queers complaining, they’d tune out before I finished my first paragraph.

This is all just so EXHAUSTING.