#scrooge above all can kiss my ass

[thegoodduckfan]

Actually this explains a lot...

Holy shit this story was so awful.

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Christmas Crush

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem-Reader

Words: 6693 (yikes)

Summary: Bucky has been infatuated with you for months. Will the Christmas Spirit finally help him make his move?

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (just all of it), fluff(I don’t know y’all, I have trouble qualifying this one), slightly dom partner, overprotective partner, SMUT (like over 3700 words of it y’all!), 18+

A/N: Sooo, this was supposed to be like 2500 words guys but I got a bit carried away. Made it in right under the wire for day 3 of my birthday week. This is also an entry for the Merry Hoemas challenge that is being hosted by @amythedvdhoarder​ @chrissquares​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @pumpkin-and-pine​ and @starlightcrystalline​. I chose the dialogue prompt “I’m not going to fall in love with you. I promise.” (from The Holiday). Please enjoy!!

“You better be wearing something nice, Barnes! No cargo pants!” you yelled out to the living area as you finished applying your makeup in the bathroom.

“Yes, boss!” He yelled back at you as he adjusted himself in the dress pants he borrowed from Sam. They weren’t uncomfortable, just tighter than he was used to.

“Dude, leave your crotch alone!” Wilson chuckled at him.

Bucky scowled at him and did his best to focus on anything else. “I can’t believe I let the two of you talk me into this.”

“You know how the boss-lady is, once she gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.” Sam gave him a grin as he lounged on the sofa, sipping a glass of scotch. “Would you relax? We’re going to a club, you literally fought of a group of five assassins on your own last week. This is nothing!”

“I’m used to fighting, I haven’t been dancing since….”

“Oh god, have you not gone out since World War II!” Sam threw back his head and gave a laugh from deep in his chest. “Hoo, boy this should be entertaining!”

The three of you had been on a surveillance assignment for the past three months, and a replacement team had finally arrived to take over for you. Your flight back to the states wasn’t until tomorrow, and you had insisted that all of you find something to do to get over the stir craziness that had taken over. When you found a flyer for a hip hop Christmas party at one of the fancier downtown clubs, you ran back to the suite and insisted that you all head out. Sam was of course down immediately, but it took you a while to convince Bucky it would be a good time.

It was hard for him to not feel like the third wheel sometimes with the two of you. You and Sam loved your hip hop, and Bucky still remembered the first time he walked into one of your sparring sessions while Wu Tang was playing and had to immediately turn around and leave, ears turning red as you and Sam shouted mirth-filled apologies after him. He was slowly warming up to the aggressive music style, but still occasionally pined for the days of the Andrews Sisters and Bing Crosby.

He squirmed in the dress pants again; when did they start making suits so tight? He rolled the sleeves of his deep green shirt up over his forearms, trying to get more comfortable as the lights glinted off his metal hand, when you finally came out of the bathroom.

“You two boys ready to go?”

Fuck me, he thought.

You were wearing a bright red dress that was covered in sequins. It was in a wrap style that was wide open across your chest, exposing the valley between your breasts almost down to your navel. A thin gold chain with a dark green stone dangled around your neck and nestled in your cleavage, drawing the eye as is twinkled in the dying light through the windows. The skirt portion of the dress was short enough that it was almost obscene, and the apex of the wrap was almost up to your hip. You topped off the look with a pair of thigh high black velvet boots.

“Damn, mama, you look good!” Sam whistled at you as he stood up and spun you around with one hand.

“You’re not too bad yourself Wilson. Barnes, you clean up real nice!”

He couldn’t speak. He was suddenly extremely aware of just how tight his slacks were, and he strode over to grab all your coats from the rack and hold his in front of his crotch as he handed Sam the other two, hoping it wasn’t obvious what he was trying to hide as he slipped it over his shoulders.

“Ok, then, let’s head out!” You said, giving Sam a look as he helped you slide into your wool coat. He just shrugged at you before donning his, and the three of you got on your way.

Sam and you walked arm in arm on the way to the club, chatting idly and laughing at the occasional quip. You tried to engage Bucky in the conversation, but he just marched behind you scowling, collar pulled up against the chill in the air.

He couldn’t deny he had developed a bit of a crush on you over the course of your assignment. You always tried to keep morale up in the surveillance house, brightening the air with your laughter as you baked some sort of treat for everyone, or broke out an obscene amount of liquor when two of you had a shared shift off. He still remembered the time you had indulged in the gin just a little too much during a game of poker and passed out with your head in his lap. He hadn’t slept or moved from that position the entire night until he had to relieve Sam in the morning, reluctantly removing your face from where it had nestled during your rest.

He did his best to move past his crush, trying to convince himself it was just an infatuation that needed to wear itself out.

Then he saw you fight for the first time.

Sure, he had seen you sparring with Sam, and may have even done a session with you himself he hadn’t been concerned about how his body would react in such close proximity to you. But when that group of thugs attacked the house last week, he really saw you in action.

You moved like water. Dodging every blow that was thrown at you and landing flurries of strikes of your own that seemed like they shouldn’t have caused any damage but would reduce your opponents to puddles. Bucky almost got knocked out when you had pulled out your knives to spin them through your expert fingers like they were extensions of your will. He’d had to lock himself in the bathroom after the fight to jerk himself off, imagining it was your hands wrapped around him.

Now he watched your ass swaying back and forth in front of him as you arrived at the club, wearing those boots and that dress that made you look like walking sex. His mood soured as he handed his coat to the check girl and shoved his call ticket into his pocket, so he headed to the bar to get himself a drink.

He felt a light touch on his shoulder and gave a wince as he turned to face you.

“C’mon, Barnes, it’s Christmas!” You were giving him a heartachingly beautiful smile. “Wipe that frown off your face and come dance!”

He softened as you looked into his eyes. It wasn’t your fault he felt like a pervert everytime he stood next to you.

“I think I’m going to go grab us a table for our drinks, you go have fun with Sam. Maybe I’ll join you in a bit.”

“If you’re sure?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and bit your lip, and he felt his gut clench and his cock twitch at that look.

“I’m sure. Enjoy yourself.”

You gave his arm a squeeze before ordering yourself a shot of vodka that you immediately tossed back before heading to join Sam on the dance floor.

Bucky took his double scotch to one of the tables scattered around the floor and perched himself on a tall stool. His gaze scanned the dance floor before finding you and he let out a groan.

If he thought your fighting was beautiful, it was nothing compared to your dancing. You looked ethereal and free as you tossed your hair, rolling your hips as your arms raised above your head and followed the motion in your torso before they sank back down and rolled along your sides, highlighting the curves of your body. Sam suddenly grabbed you by the waist and spun you, causing you to throw your head back with a beautiful lilting laugh.

Bucky tossed back his scotch and flagged down a waitress, handing her his card and instructing her to keep the drinks coming. Maybe if he drank enough it would relieve the unbelievable ache he was feeling in his chest.

You and Sam joined him at the table after a few songs. You were breathless and flushed and all he wanted to do was kiss you then take you to an alley out back and fuck you stupid.

“Barnes, you are being a bit of a Scrooge here.” You grinned at him as you nibbled on a pretzel. Sam had headed to the bathroom, and you flagged down a waitress and ordered yourself a vodka cranberry before turning back to him. “I’ll order you to have fun if I need to.”

He grinned in spite of himself when you gave him a wink. “Sorry, Y/L/N, this isn’t really my type of party.”

“Aww, Bucky,” he took in a sharp breath, you’d never used his first name before. “You just need to loosen up. I can lend you a hand with that if you need it.” You reached a hand over and wrapped it around his wrist, giving it a light squeeze.

He almost said something then, but the waitress arrived back at the table at that moment with your drink and you turned to give her a smile and thanks. Sam arrived back from the bathroom then with a bourbon in his hand, accompanied by a beautiful woman with a bright smile.

“Bucky, Y/N, this is Marta, she’s a model!”

“Well hi there Marta, you going to steal my dance partner?” You were giving the girl a massive grin as you teased Sam.

“Yeah, Marta doesn’t really speak English.” Sam grinned.

“Oh, sorry.” You asked her the same question in Swedish.

Marta’s smile grew even bigger as the two of you started babbling away at each other while Bucky and Sam just shook their heads. Marta grabbed your hand suddenly and started to drag you away from the table.

“Be right back boys!” You said over your shoulder as you and your new friend headed off to the bathroom. Bucky watched you walk away and gave a deep sigh.

“Jesus Christ, man, you need to make your move already!” Sam said, exasperated.

Bucky almost choked on his scotch. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” He mumbled, wiping his chin with a napkin.

“Bruh, you’ve been staring at Y/N non-stop this whole night. Not to mention the fact that you were moping around the surveillance house for the past few months like a kicked puppy.” Sam shook his head as he tossed back the rest of his drink. “Oh, and if you thought you were sneaky about your little post-fight bathroom session last week, you are very mistaken.”

Bucky snapped his jaw shut and felt a flush creeping up his neck as he imagined your reaction to the discovery he had been touching himself to thoughts of your body underneath him.

Sam waved a hand at him. “Don’t worry, Y/N didn’t notice. I sprayed the fuck out of that bathroom with Febreze after you left. I am never doing anything like that for you again, though.”

Bucky’s heart rate went back down in relief. “We work together Sam. Even if that wasn’t the case, what am I supposed to say to her?”

“Geez, man, just fucking kiss her!”

“Fuck, Sam, we haven’t even been on a date! Don’t women usually want that sort of preamble?”

“Some women, sure. But don’t treat them like a monolith. Y/N appreciates directness and the worst thing that could possibly happen is she tells you to back off.”

“She could stab me.”

Sam guffawed. “Don’t look so turned on at the thought, dude. She’s noticed how weird you’ve been acting. She thinks you don’t like her. One of the main reasons she made us all go out tonight was to hopefully get you to warm up some.”

Bucky sighed, he hadn’t meant to push you away. “I dunno, Sam. She’s super fucking intimidating.”

“Get over it, Barnes. If you don’t make a move, someone else definitely will.”

“Oh my god, Sam, get your ass out here! It’s Christmas in Hollis!” You and Marta were back on the dance floor now and you were bouncing up and down, waving your hand excitedly at Sam.

“Aw, shit, that’s my jam!” Sam was backing onto the floor now, trying to get Bucky to follow him before giving up and turning to you and his date.

An unsteady woman sank into the seat Sam had just vacated and gave Bucky a lecherous grin before she started talking to him in slurred Swedish.

“Sorry, I can’t understand you.” He shouted at her.

“Oh, American man.” The woman purred at him in what he assumed was supposed to be a sexy voice. “You, me, fuck in bathroom.”

Bucky didn’t hear her. A giant blonde man who looked like a knockoff Thor was dancing behind you now, trying to put his hands on your hips and grind his crotch into your ass.

Bucky watched you turn and place a hand on the intruder’s chest, giving him a polite smile as you stopped your dancing, saying something to him that Bucky couldn’t make out over the music.

The guy didn’t take the hint and put his hands on your waist, pulling you flush against his front and putting a thigh between your legs, edging the hem of your skirt upwards.

Bucky didn’t realize he had been gripping the back of one of the chairs with his metal hand until he heard a crunch and looked down to see he had bent the frame when he clenched his fist.

“Knulla.” The suddenly sober woman said, standing up abruptly and scurrying away from the table.

Bucky found himself striding towards the dance floor, fists clenching and a low growl emanating from his chest.

That dirty fucker was still trying to hump you as you gave him a firm shove, trying to turn back to Sam and Marta. He wrapped a hand around your upper arm and jerked you back. Sam stopped dancing and tried to step in, but the son of a bitch slapped him in the face before turning back to you and smashing his mouth into yours, shoving his free hand up the front of your skirt to try to get at your pussy.

Bucky arrived just as you pulled back from the cocksucker and drew the offensive hand back so sharply, a snap resounded across the floor and he let out a scream.

Bucky punched him in the face before grabbing him by his collar and tossing him away from you as three security guards came rushing to the scene, too late to offer any sort of assistance. Marta managed to intercept them and started screaming at them in Swedish as you and Sam moved between Bucky and the giant Swede who was now a blubbering mess on the floor.

“It’s good Barnes, you can relax.” Sam said.

“Bucky, it’s ok. He isn’t worth it.” You were as close to Bucky as you had ever been. He could feel the heat radiating off you as you put a hand on his chest.

You had never seen Bucky so angry. His jaw was clenched so tight, you were worried the tendons in his neck were going to snap. He was breathing deeply through his nose, nostrils flaring as he glared murderously at the man who had touched you.

“Baby, you can let it go. I’m ok.” You murmured low enough that only he could hear you.

He looked into your eyes and relaxed, taking a deep breath through his mouth and nodding as the security guards dragged your assailant out of the club.

“Good boy, now you owe me a dance.”

Bucky’s look instantly changed to confusion as you dragged him onto the dance floor, giving him a breathless laugh as you started dancing again.

He had no idea what to do with himself. You saw his look of utter helplessness and turned to face him. You placed his hands on your hips and your hands around his neck and looked into his eyes. You’re hips started rolling to the rhythm as the rest of your body swayed in time with the music. Bucky was too aware of his feet and broke eye contact to stare at them, trying to figure out how he was supposed to move.

He felt your hand lift his chin and you shook your head at him before bringing the front of your body flush against his. You lined up your hips to his and started rolling them, your legs on either side of his massive thigh as you gyrated against him. He let out a moan and screwed his eyes closed.

You brought your face against his neck and whispered in his ear. “Just relax honey.”

You dipped your hips slightly and he followed you, nuzzling into your neck and inhaling your scent as his brain finally stopped overanalyzing what he was doing.

You felt the muscles underneath his shirt tightening and releasing as he rolled his body against you and your pussy clenched over his thigh. You gave a soft gasp and hoped the rush of arousal hadn’t soaked through your panties and onto his pants. His hands were pressing into the soft skin of your hips, and you knew you would have light bruises there tomorrow.

You pulled away suddenly and Bucky groaned at the loss of you before you flipped your hair forward and dropped your ass, separating your thighs slightly as you slowly drew your back up Bucky’s front before nestling your ass into the dip in his pelvis that seemed made to fit you.

Bucky growled into your hair and nipped at the soft skin behind your ear before starting to grind himself into your ass. He brought his metal arm to press against your abdomen and push you further into him, while his other wandered up between your breasts, giving one of them a soft squeeze before loosely wrapping his fingers around your throat

You felt him harden against you and let out a small gasp, starting to pull away before his metal arm locked you in place.

“Don’t you fucking move.” He growled in your ear, nipping gently at the lobe with his teeth.

His hips were moving at their own rhythm now, the music forgotten. Neither of you noticed Sam making an exit with Marta, grinning back at you before shrugging his coat over his shoulders and heading out into the snow.

Your breath was hitching softly as Bucky rutted himself against your ass, and the sound was driving him crazy. You could feel your cunt throbbing as it became slick, your arousal soaking your panties and threatening to start leaking down the insides of your thighs. He suddenly stuttered his hips and let out a hiss before stilling.

“Shit.”

He had come in his pants like a teenager, filling his boxer briefs and leaving a small wet spot on the front of his slacks. His arms released you as he stood up straight, leaning his forehead against the back of your head and screwing his eyes shut. He’d never been so embarrassed.

You shuffled the edge of your skirt down before turning around and pressing your lips against his softly. He groaned against your mouth as he brought his hands to either side of your face, tangling them in your hair. You discretely untucked his shirt as you kissed him, covering the evidence of his orgasm graciously. You pulled away before he could really lean into the kiss, and he let out a dissatisfied sigh.

You looked at him through heavy lids, biting at your kiss swollen lips before taking his hand and dragging him to the exit. “We’re going back to the hotel”

You tossed the coat tickets at the girl at the counter, breathing heavily as you tapped your nails impatiently. You snatched the coats from her without a word and tossed Bucky’s to him before charging out the door.

Bucky almost slipped several times back to the hotel as you set a brutal pace. He couldn’t get a read on you now and was worried he’d ruined things already.

You rode the elevator up to your floor in silence, one hip cocked to the side as you clicked the opposite heel against the floor rapidly. As soon as the doors opened, you strode down the hallway like you were possessed and Bucky hurried after you, concern written all over his face.

You arrived at the room first and wrenched the door open, leaving it open behind you as you stepped inside. Bucky was a few steps behind you but stopped at the entrance. He was certain you were going to lay into him as soon as he entered and wanted to take a moment to collect himself. He was running his metal fingers through his hair when your arm suddenly shot out, your fingers wrapping around the collar of his shirt and hauling him inside as he let out an uncharacteristic yelp.

You slammed the door behind him and pressed him up against it, shoving your fingers under his collar and wrapping them around his neck before you smashed your mouth to his violently, clashing your teeth against his before shoving your tongue down his throat.

Bucky overcame his surprise quickly and grinned against your lips as he slid his coat off his shoulders before cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze.

Your lips left his suddenly, leaving him breathless. You gave him a small smirk before sinking to your knees and starting to undo his belt.

“You’ve been keeping this pretty cock from me baby. My pussy’s been gushing thinking about your hot length in my mouth.” You were kissing around the bulge in his pants as you slipped his loosened belt out of the loops and undid the buttons. He leaned his head back against the door and hissed through his teeth. He’d never had a woman speak to him like this before and it was making his cock ache. He jutted his hips forward and you rubbed your face against his cloth covered erection before drawing his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs swiftly, freeing his dick to bounce back up against his abs.

You spat in your hand and wrapped it around him, drawing a groan from his chest. You started peppering soft kisses along his shaft as you ran your hand up and down slowly. “God Bucky, you’re so fucking big, I can’t wait to feel this in my pussy. I need to taste your sweet cum first though honey.”

You softly ran one finger up the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that ran from root to tip before dragging your tongue in a heavy stripe over the same path.

He wrapped your hair around his hand and let out a hiss. “Fuck, Y/N, who taught you to talk like that?”

 “Mmm, you like it sweetie?” You asked him wickedly as you ran your tongue over the sensitive slit along his tip, lapping up the pre-cum that was starting to collect there.

“God, yes.” He couldn’t believe how much the filthy praises you were giving turned him on.

“I’ll give you as much as I can honey, but I’m worried this cock is going to fuck out my throat.” You took him in your mouth then, relaxing your throat as you drew in his entire length, feeling his balls hit your chin as you swallowed around him.

“Shit!” he thought you were going to go slower and he almost came immediately when you hollowed your cheeks around him and pulled him out slightly before taking him in again, bringing a hand up to fondle his balls.

He braced his metal arm against the door as he started to thrust his hips, fucking into your face as you choked around him, tears streaming down your cheeks and drool leaking from the corners of your mouth.

“God baby, you’re taking my cock so good. That mouth of yours is fucking amazing.” His hips picked up speed and he gazed down at you. You looked sinful, a flush in your cheeks and over your chest as you gazed up at him through thick lashes. You moaned around his cock as his praise caused a fresh rush of arousal to leak from your cunt.

“You gonna take my cum down like a good girl?” His hips were starting to stutter and you felt his cock twitch at the back of your mouth. You let out a tiny whine and tried to nod as he shoved himself all the way in, stilling himself as you felt his release run down your throat.

He pulled his softening cock out of your mouth and wiped the drool from you chin before softly cupping your cheek.

“Stay right there for a second pretty girl.”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered at him, your voice husky now that your throat was raw.

He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled it off over his shoulders, then removed his undershirt and tossed it aside too until he was standing in front of you naked.

You let out a low moan at the sight. His muscles were sculpted beautifully, his chest dusted with dark hair that tapered to a happy trail that led down to his thick cock. The skin around his metal arm was scarred and puckered, and other faint scars were visible elsewhere on his body, giving him an air of danger and menace. Your cunt clenched as you took in the sight, biting your lips as you ached to run your hands over his body.

“Stand up.” He ordered you. He didn’t know what had come over him. He had spent months wanting to beg you for some sign of affection, but now that you were there kneeling in front of him, he just wanted to take it from you. And you were willing to give him whatever he required.

You drew yourself up slowly and he picked you up with one hand and wrapped your legs around his waist. He brought your mouth down to his and teased your lips open with his tongue as he carried you to the bedroom.

He knelt on the bed with you straddling him and started to trail rough kisses down your neck, sucking occasionally to draw a bruise against your skin.

As he reached your shoulders, he wrapped his metal hand through the chain around your neck and gave it a yank, snapping it off you. He drew the shoulders of your dress down, exposing your tits as you arched your back up to meet him.

“God Bucky, please” You whined as nuzzled his face into the valley between your breasts, his stubble scratching the skin there.

“You want something, baby?” he asked you wickedly, kissing slowly up the slope of your breast until he almost reached your nipple, then moved his mouth away again.

You groaned and wound your fingers into his hair. “Need your tongue on me, please baby.”

“Where did you want it sweet girl?” he asked innocently before cupping one breast in his hand and rubbing the nipple with his nose. “Did you want me to lick you here?”

“Yes, yes, fuck!!” His tongue swirled slowly around your nipple, drawing it to a sensitive peak. “God Bucky, that’s so good!”

He brought up his metal hand to palm your other breast and you gasped at the contrast of the cool metal against your warm flesh. He tweaked the other nipple and you groaned. “You want my tongue on this one too, honey?”

“Pleasepleaseplease….” You whispered breathlessly, whining when he moved his mouth where you asked him. You started grinding yourself into his thigh, desperate for release as your pussy quivered and wept.

“No.” He ordered, grabbing your hip with his metal hand and holding you still. “You don’t get to come unless it’s on my cock sweetheart.”

You let out a thin keen as tears leaked down your cheeks.

Bucky brought his face back up to yours, holding your chin with his other hand and kissing you hungrily. You cried into his mouth in desperation.

“You want this cock, pretty girl?”

“God, yes. Please, Bucky!”

“You asked me so nicely, honey. I’m gonna give you what you want.”

He gripped your dress in his metal hand where it had gathered at your waist, gave it a twist, and ripped it off you, sequins and beads flying off the bed and across the floor. He grabbed your panties next and shredded them, bringing their ruins up to his face and inhaling your scent deeply before tossing them aside and giving you a wicked grin. You bent one leg up to start to remove your boots when he slapped your hand away.

“Leave those on.” He growled at you.

He took a moment to pause and look at you, memorizing every slope and curve of your body. He spread your legs wide and gave a low moan when he got a look at your pussy, coated in slick and swollen with desire. He drew two metal fingers softly up the inside of your thigh before running them over your sex, coating them in your arousal and making you moan. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean.

“You taste so good baby girl. Maybe once I’ve fucked you stupid with my cock I’ll eat you out.”

“Unnhh, Bucky, give it to me.” You begged him.

“You need something baby? You gotta be specific.”

“God, need you inside me. I fucking need your cock. Bucky, please.”

“Alright sweetheart. You better have at least five orgasms on my cock sweet girl. Otherwise I might have to spank you.”

He lifted your right leg and looped your knee over his elbow, opening you wide as he brought himself up to your entrance. He slowly drew his length through the slick gathered there as you whimpered, then he slammed into you, bottoming out right away and knocking the air out of you.

“FUCK!!!” you screamed as you came immediately, clenching and fluttering around him as you went rigid and started to tremble.

“That’s one, baby.” He grinned as he started to fuck into you, not bothering to wait for you to come down from your orgasm. “Shit, this pussy was fucking ready for me. Look at you gripping me so good, like you’re fucking made for my cock.”

“God, Bucky!” you whined. “You’re so big, keep moving baby. Fuck that’s so good!”

Lewd squelching noises filled the room, combining with the slap of flesh against flesh as he drove into you hard.

“Mmm, you’re squeezing me so tight, honey. You gonna come on my cock again?” Bucky slipped a hand underneath your ass and tilted your hips just a bit and felt you clench around him.

“Shit, right there. God, I’m coming again. Don’t fucking stop.” Your face screwed up as your second orgasm ripped through you, curling your toes in your boots as your legs quivered with the strain.

“Good girl.” He praised you as you fluttered around him, your release soaking your thighs as it seeped out around his cock. “I’m gonna move you now, sweetheart, get ready.”

His hand moved under your waist and he wrenched you up until you were flush against his chest. The coarse hair there scratched against your sensitive nipples and you gave a soft whine at the change in position.

Bucky stared into your eyes. Your face was a mess. Lipstick smeared all over your mouth and chin. Mascara and tears running in streaks down your flushed cheeks. Mouth open and panting with need and pupils blown wide as you gazed at him through your thick eyelashes.

You looked like the perfect mixture of sin and sex. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

He wrapped both his arms behind your shoulders and buried his hands in your hair, pressing your face to his and forcing his tongue between your lips and teeth, running it everywhere it could reach inside your velvety mouth, growling into you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and opened yourself up to him, whining as he increased his pace even more and you felt the tension gather in your core again.

“Give me another one, baby. My good girl. Show me how good that pussy is for me.”

You buried your face in his neck and groaned as you felt every muscle below your waist go rigid and another orgasm wracked you. You didn’t know if you could handle two more.

“God, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good. This pussy is making a mess everywhere.”

He pulled out of you suddenly and you gasped, hoping for a reprieve. But he just flipped you so you were on all fours and slammed back into you, making you scream.

“Just two more pretty girl. Then I’ll fill this pretty cunt with my cum.”

You didn’t know how he could last this long as he pounded into you relentlessly. He drew you up straight suddenly so your back was against his chest and you gave a small whimper. Your throat was raw from him fucking it and from your screaming, and the only sound you managed to make now was a stream of unintelligible mewls.

You leaned your head back against Bucky’s shoulder as he brought a hand up to palm at your breast. His metal fingers moved to the apex of your thighs and started drawing rough circles against your clit. You felt tears leaking down your cheeks as your pleasure began to gather. He drove them into you suddenly and you let out a thin wail as your entire body went stiff before vibrating with your release.

Bucky guided your fall forward gently until your face was resting against the blankets. Your arms couldn’t hold you up anymore so they laid limply next to your face as Bucky gripped both of your hips and drew them back to him over and over. You felt drool leaking from your open mouth as you blinked slowly. You were absolutely cock drunk. The sheer number and intensity of your orgasms had made your brain short circuit. He really had fucked you stupid.

Bucky slapped your ass suddenly and you gave a sharp gasp as you came one last time, fisting your hands into the blankets to try to keep from passing out.

“Good girl.” Bucky murmured at you. You could feel the smile in his voice and you felt your cunt clench around him at the praise. His hips started to stutter and you felt his cock twitching inside you.

“You ready for me sweetheart? This pussy treated me so good, I’m gonna fill you up.”

You managed to moan out a single word through your hoarse throat. “Please…”

The wantonness in your voice pushed him over the edge and you felt his hips still suddenly as he released inside of you. The feel of his hot cum coating your velvety walls made you moan like a whore.

“Fuck, baby. That was so good.” He gently lowered himself on top of you and you felt him soften inside of you. He peppered gentle kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck as he pulled out of you slowly. You gave a contented sigh as he rolled off you and headed to the bathroom. You’d never been fucked so well in your life.

You heard the water running and you managed to lift your head to watch Bucky return, holding a damp washcloth. His abdomen, thighs, and cock were coated in your release, glistening in the soft light of the bedroom as he walked back towards you and sat down on the edge of the bed. The sight of his naked form filled you with a renewed sense of desire.

Bucky rotated you carefully until you were lying on your back and brought his face down to yours and gave you a soft kiss before moving himself between your legs. You heard him suck in his breath sharply when he got a good look at you, drawing your knees apart to get a good look at your pussy.

“Fuck honey, you’re beautiful.”

The skin of your mound and thighs was flushed red where he had thrusted into you repeatedly and it was all coated in the evidence of your multiple orgasms. Your cunt was swollen and pulsing as his cum slowly leaked out of you, collecting in a small puddle on the sheets.

Bucky gently cleaned your thighs and mound with the cloth, being careful to not irritate your already sensitive skin. Then he worked your folds apart with his metal fingers and drew the damp fabric over your slit slowly, collecting his release from your entrance. You gave a groan and pressed yourself into the cloth when he tried to pull it away.

“Jesus, sweetheart, already?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and stared at him. “Bucky, you promised.”

He shook his head and tutted his tongue at you. “No, I said I might eat you out after I fucked you stupid. No promises were made.”

“Bucky, please?” You begged him, your voice husky with lust.

He gave you a look then moved to kneel between your legs. “Can’t say no to you, pretty girl. Not after this pussy treated me so good.”

You gave a soft chuckle followed by a gasp as he flattened himself on the bed and drew your left leg over his shoulder, softly kissing and sucking down the inside of your thigh before he nuzzled himself into your folds.

He softly licked at your entrance, lapping up the renewed evidence of your arousal as he dragged his tongue up and down your slit before he wrapped his lips around your tiny bud and sucked softly.

“God, Bucky! More…please…” You moaned at him, winding your fingers into his hair and pressing him further into you.

He gently teased two metal finger around your entrance before inserting them slowly, grinning against you as he felt your pussy flutter around them.

He started fucking them into you steadily while he gently sucked at your clit, crooking his wrist to hit your sweet spot as he picked up speed.

“Fuck! Right there! Don’t you dare stop! So, so, good! Please baby!” You started babbling, the pitch of your voice getting higher as he edged you closer to your release.

He latched on and sucked hard at the same time he added a third finger, and you came apart around him, soaking his chin and stubble as your thighs tried to crush his head between them and your pussy clenched and twitched around his fingers.

Bucky crawled back up the bed and laid next to you, drawing you to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You nuzzled your face into him and let out a low humming noise to show how content you were.

“God, it took you long enough, Barnes.”

He laughed and kissed the top of your head, pulling the blankets over the two of you and flicking off the bedside lamp.

“You know, you could have made a move yourself.” He murmured against your hair.

“And offend your World War II sensibilities, grandpa? You would have run away screaming.”

“Grandpa?”

“Whatever, you were scared of me. I didn’t want to frighten you off before you took advantage of your crush.”

“Right, crush.”

“Mmm, if this is how you fuck on the first date, what are you going to do when you fall in love with me?” You teased against his chest, your breathing growing deeper as you drifted off to sleep.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not going to fall in love with you. I promise.” He lied as he dozed off.

The snow was falling heavy over the city. And Bucky was dreaming about marrying you.

[thotsforvillainrights]

~Christmas with You~

(It’s days after Christmas as usual I haven’t active or slept  properly yet but I’ve been focused on my store lol. I hadn’t been super on my writing game in a hot minute so I decided to write how your partner would treat you during the holidays. This features EVERY single villain I write for from the list located in my bio IN ORDER. Also I apologize if you don’t celebrate Christmas and this doesn’t apply to you. I hope you still had a great holiday anyway, and I love you!)

~Toga💉-She begins her present shopping early because she wants to find you something that she’s sure you’ll like! Eventually she ends up buying a ton of things, but none of them satisfy her and she’s worried you won’t like any of them even though you will. So finally she settles on making you something instead. She will stay up all night long pushing herself to put together the perfect gift for you and will literally fall apart if you don’t like it. But I’m sure she won’t have to worry about anything like that.

~Dabi🔥-Hates the holidays. He tells you they hold some pretty shitty childhood memories for him and he’s honestly all for avoiding even just the thought of Christmas, but of course he looks at you and that changes. He’s really willing to try and take part in a little holiday cheer just for you even if it’s stupid to him. Call it cheesy, but when he celebrates with you it helps take away from the old bad thoughts. It gives him a chance to replace the bad memories with good ones. So he’ll bake some shitty cookies with you, and poorly wrap presents even if he knows that you know what he got for you. Of course he’s not opposed to a mistletoe kiss or two (or three). You help put the cheer in the holiday for him.

~Overhaul🥀-Hates Christmas. It’s not the holiday, it’s just how many people are buzzing around up until that point. So he gets ALL of his shopping done early. And and all emergencies are to be handled by his men (ex: in case he forgot something on the list). The number one thing he takes super seriously is you seeing your presents. You better hope he doesn’t catch you sneaking around the tree. He will lock you in the bedroom until the day of Christmas itself before he lets you open any of them early...even on Christmas eve

~Shigaraki🤚-Literally wakes you up super early on the morning of just so you can watch a movie with him in a fluffy throw blanket with the hum of his electric heater nearby. He loves this season with you more than any other because he can use the cold weather as an excuse to cuddle with you. “Oh well you know I’m kinda small here so I don’t produce a lot of body heat. You should come closer.” Aside from that, he loves the way you celebrate. You make it up to him for not having a childhood at all. Surprisingly enough, he loves doing all the little things with you.

~Tengai🏳-Doesn’t see a point in the holidays and never really supported it before. Now don’t get me wrong, he’s no scrooge. He would rather spend his time the way he usually did around this time of the year: working at charity spots and donation centers. When you find out he spends every holiday season serving food to people less fortunate it makes your heart soar. So if you have the time to join him, then by all means please do so. Help him spread a little peace this season

~Deidoro🍺-Being someone that knows a LOT about different drinks out there, he has never in his life heard about eggnog. It throws you for a loop at first and you laugh at him as he watches you in confusion. “Wait...you’re being serious about this???” So you have to sit him down, make it for him, and let him try it. I mean, how could he be the one person to not know about this when its alcohol related? Well let’s just say that not only does it stick, but Sakaki has been downing eggnog at the Hassaikai Christmas party all night, and now he’s trying to literally eat you in the bathroom while you’re washing your face. It’s ridiculous

~Nemouto✔-This man is 100% proposing to you on Christmas night after a long date with you. For someone that talks about feelings being pointless, he sure does have a lot of love for you. He pays attention to the details and the moods around him. This time was a boost in your happiness and it signaled the perfect time for him to pop the question to you. Add in all those romantic light attractions, and the snow with the carolers etc. Its free romance that he can ride on and use to his advantage. Catch him getting on one knee in the snow after you two are leaving a light show in the city.

~Setsuno💔-Holidays are depressing to say the least. To him, Christmas and Valentines day were the worst 2 days to be alone out of any day of the year. Well WERE until you came into his life. He stares at you unwrapping presents under the tree while he sips some cocoa and he thinks about how lucky he was that you came into his life. Little moments like these help tie together the ideal that holidays aren’t so bad. Thanks to you, he no longer has to fight back tears of sadness in the dead of night as the snow falls against his window and sticks until it melts. Now he has to fight tears of joy blurring his eyes while you two lounge on the couch and try to get through a holiday movie without falling asleep on each other

~Compress🎭-Will do any and everything with you during this day. I mean he’s going to go all out for you on any day of the year, but this one is a little different. So bring in those matching Santa hats, and roll out the gingerbread house kits. Compress is down for it all. It’s not just for you, but all for the sake of letting loose for once during the year and allowing himself to relax as a civilian instead of a villain on the run. He’d rather spend time building a gingerbread house than trekking through the cold forest with the sounds of sirens in the background getting near. 

~Twice👬-This man gets a new ugly Christmas sweater like every year since 7 years ago. The only difference is now he can celebrate with you and his friends instead of celebrating with himself and his clones, alone somewhere in a storage unit. And yes: he’s the number one person to force the league into a Christmas party because he knows you’ll have fun hanging out with him and everyone else (since usually he keeps you away for protection). He’s also the most likely to make everyone engage in secret Santa with each other. Jin is also the one most likely to burn through Christmas movie marathons like it’s nothing at all to him. He runs on peppermint hot cocoa, and marshmallows so don’t challenge him at all

~Kurogiri☁️-Usually he wouldn’t think twice to celebrate it. It doesn’t bother him, but he’s not really focused on being cheerful when there’s work to be done instead. You have to be the one to help him slow down and enjoy the tiny things here and there. He’ll help you string up lights, decorations, and the tree. Believe me, he does an amazing job on it all because he doesn’t half-ass his work in any kind of way whatsoever. He’s also kinda in love with the Christmas sweater/vest combo you got for him (and he’s secretly wanting to brag about it). He’s not one for the sweets like the ribbon candy, or the candy canes but he’ll blow through holiday food that you cook or order. Most of all, he’s invested in seeing you smile 

~AFO💀-Christmas is just another excuse for him to spoil you. However, you have to step up and let him know it’s more than just gift giving that he needs to do. Where you would love some quality time with him, he’s more about giving you 1,000′s of dollars of gifts and handling work that needs to be done. But who can say no to those eyes of yours huh? (Don’t answer that. Just know he’s not one to deny you). He’s not really into the holidays but he treats it like a big important date night between the two of you. He’ll go above and beyond to ensure things runs smoothly. You’ll have to introduce him to ‘stay at home’ dates for once. If not

~Stain🔪- Isn’t down for it until you mention the tradition that some people go out and chop a real tree. For some odd reason, he’s attached to the idea of chopping a tree down. At first you thought you’d successfully got him into the Christmas spirit, but it just turns out he was eager to use a blade for big business for the first time. Either way, you shrugged it off and rode with it. And boy was that a mistake to make...You were shivering out there. Stain had you in the forest for at least an hour now while he hunted down the perfect tree. You swore to yourself that you’d be getting a fake one next year

~Muscular💪-”Celebrate Christmas? Okay, why tho?” You maybe could convince him by disguising it as a romantic time but he’s not big on romance either. You entice him with gift giving. More importantly the idea of hiding his gifts and not letting him see a single one till Christmas day. THAT is how you get him into the holiday. Be warned though, he’s mostly taking part in the other celebrations because he’s wanting those presents so badly.  

~Mustard☣-You’ll be lucky if you can get him to go Christmas shopping with him, let alone celebrate. No offense against the holiday itself but Mustard doesn’t celebrate ANY day. He doesn’t even like to celebrate his own birthday! He seems to be a bit more bitter around the holidays and the cheer isn’t helping. “C’mon don’t be a scrooooooge!” You poke at his cheek while he’s scrolling through his phone on the couch. “Y/N for the last time, kindly piss off.” He glares at you before turning his attention to his phone again. At this point you’ll either have to risk getting put under from annoying him too much, or you’ll have to find another way to convince him to loosen up. Good luck with it

~Spinner🦎-10/10 best person to spend Christmas with. He’s more into it than you are. As soon as December 1st hits, he’s putting up decorations. In fact, he put up the tree a week before Thanksgiving. The holidays remind him of when he was little and he sat in his mom’s lap while she sewed a Christmas tree quilt. Or when he and his sibling would have snowball fights in the backyard (despite his aversion to cold weather due to his quirk). Shuichi will sit down and write out a holiday movie watch list and watch a different Christmas almost every single day with you if you’d allow it. He’s the first to bake cookies, and the first to start buying gifts early. Most of all, he’s happy to spend this time with you. (Oh be prepared for those walks in the park to admire the Christmas lights)

~Katsukame🗿-Big guy is a lot more cheerful than you know, but he knows nothing about Christmas so you gotta show him all those old fashioned traditions. But please don’t tell him to deck the halls because he will pull a ‘Rappa’ move and punch holes in the hallway walls. Aside from that, he’s pretty open to Christmas cookies, and even decorating. But I have to say he draws the line at singing door to door at people’s houses because he hates to sing. He doesn’t even like to hum lol 

~Rappa👊-Hell yeah he’s gonna spend it with you! The big guy is literally sold on just about anything involving you (well as long as he doesn’t have to wear a stuffy suit for it). His excitement stems mostly from his curiosity. He never had a bad childhood but he still can’t remember much of the holidays back then. So who needs old memories when you can make new ones! At least that’s his reasoning after all lol. 

~Hawks🦅-This guy is the WORST at giving you presents. I mean his gifts are amazing, but he always slips up and tells you what they are too soon. In fact, he will buy you something and ask if you wanna see it within the next five minutes afterward. Its gotten to the point where you have to beg him almost to stop letting wanting you to open stuff. He can’t help it though! Keigo just loves spoiling you, and holidays are the exception where he can go crazy with his saved money.

~Magne🕶-She has this crazy secret collection that she finally busted out once you’ve gotten close enough to you in the relationship. Her secret collection ended up being a MASSIVE set of sweaters (specifically Christmas themed) While she’s beaming proudly about how she has a different sweater for every day in December, your jaw is almost on the floor. “Mag...don’t...don’t these cost like 50 bucks each? How long have you been collecting these?!” Anyway, you should expect an ugly Christmas sweater party with the League at least once this December 

~Tabe🍡-Forget celebrating the other stuff that comes with Christmas, you already know what he’s excited about...All that yummy yummy food!!! Oh God (if it applies) take him to your family (or friends) for Christmas and watch his face as he enters to see that table full of food. Oh man, he’s going to do his best to be respectful but on the inside he wants to destroy all of the food on that table. Oh and don’t worry about the whole baking cookies for Santa because Tabe is most likely going to eat them...and drink the milk too

~Hojo💎-He starts present shopping in late October, early November so that way he has everything he needs to get for you (which is a lot). He hides your presents at the base so you have no idea where to find them. Thanks to the base being an underground labyrinth, you’ll never see those gifts until Christmas eve (just one), and Christmas day (the rest of them). Hojo goes along with whatever you do to celebrate the holidays. He’s just perfect husband material to be honest. Not too rough around the edges, but willing to beat a man to death if his job calls for it. Who knew he’d be the most willing to celebrate the holidays with you.

~Chronostasis🔫-He will literally defy anyone that stood in the way of spending this holiday with you. That includes his own best friend/boss. Overhauls knows this, and he’s comes to respect your relationship so he purposefully doesn’t schedule Hari to work on Christmas (but he still pays him for the full day since he’s still his friend). Hari will absolutely kill anyone that got in the way of your cheer. Even if you were one of those people that believed in Christmas magic, he would support you. The world is tough, and it shows no mercy so little things like joy during the holiday meant a lot more than anyone could know in your household. He loves to see you happy so if that means celebrating with you, then he’s going to do it. Besides...he secretly likes Christmas himself

~Mimic💰-Literally loves to talk about how unnecessary it is while he’s also excited for it as well. Like he’ll talk down about decorating while he’s decorating. If you try to step between him he’s gonna tell you to: “Back off, you’re messing up my artistic flow here. Go sit on the couch. Make yourself useful and unwrap the candy cane boxes for the tree.” You can see by the way he steps back and puts his hands on his hips to admire his handy-work that he’s taken a bit of pride in things here. 

~Pops🇯🇵-The old man will take part in the celebration with you because he absolutely adores both you AND the holiday itself as well. He might mix in a few older traditions like Elf on a Shelf, and making a popcorn line to go around the tree. Most importantly you can look forward to opening one gift early as per tradition on Christmas eve. Pops is thankful every single year he gets to spend with you. 

~Giran👏-Christmas presents from him are on lock. You see he developed this tactic after brainstorming some ideas. He’s always buying you anything and everything but he realizes that it takes away from his Christmas gift pool. To combat this, he decided to cutdown on his generosity in the months of September, October, and November. That way, it’ll give him some time to get you a bunch of stuff on Christmas that you DONT already own. Or at least some stuff you don’t already need. 

~Geten❄-Of course he’s number one at hiding how he feels about you. Or maybe more along the line of being a total Tsundere, but believe me he loves you. If that means celebrating this holiday with you then he’s willing to endure it. His grumpy face is getting harder and harder to hide from you. Sometimes you can just barely catch a glimpse of his content smile while you guys build a snowman together. Wanna have some real fun with him? Challenge him to a snow building competition. With his quirk at play you’ll surely lose no matter what, but isn’t it fun to see him bragging his ass off about how he ran circles around your ‘shitty snow project’? 

~Slice💋-She doesn’t hate the holiday, but she DESPISES the cold weather. A lot of her clothes are shorter and sexier by far. Summer is her number one time of the year. Besides, winter dries her skin out, and she hates being under wraps of a thick jacket etc. She can’t even wear her open toed heels!!! Besides that, she’s down for celebrating indoors if you want to. Christmas movies, hot cocoa, and a few make-out sessions are her forte. That’s the best way to do Christmas in her opinion

~Nine🌪-Bake cookies? Sure. Volunteer at shelters? Absolutely. Hang lights around the house/apartment? Yes baby, anything for you. I mean Nine is a ‘yes’ man all year round, but he’s especially willing to agree to things during this time of year. He’s completely whipped for you and there’s nothing wrong with that. He celebrates however you’d like him to do so. There is just one thing he wants to do that he suggested first and that’s either driving slowly through fancy neighborhoods to see their lights up, or going to a Christmas themed petting zoo and feeding carrots to the reindeer. Let’s say he’s a child at heart during this time of year

~Chimera🐺-Literally sees no purpose in celebrating it at all. He’ll do the stuff you want but he’s going to complain the whole way. The only thing he’s big on is saving up his cash and getting you something. The only thing that matters to him is making you happy during the entirety of your relationship (which he hopes is the rest of your lives together). The rest of the stuff he’s just grumbling and putting up with so he can see your smile. 

~Mummy🥋-Christmas? For what? Well okay then, if you say so. Really doesn’t get the point but hey, why not. He’s got nothing better to do. He’s never really celebrated it, His family never really celebrated it either so he’s a little interested in how you get down for it. His favorite thing he developed was this odd present wrapping competition with you. You should already know how good he is at wrapping things due to his quirk (I’m sure he’s shown you how good he is at binding and wrapping stuff before). Add a little competition into anything and he’s ready to do it. Baking competition, Caroling competition, Decorating competition. He’ll even challenge you to who can cuddle each other better. Whatever floats his boat I guess lol

~Gentle Criminal☕-He wants to travel during the holidays with you and he wants to vlog it all. Only if you’re okay with it of course! If you give him the ‘okay’ then he’s whisking you away somewhere overseas for a more extravagant vacation. He ends up spending so much time with you and having so much fun that he stop recording like 3 days in. His reasoning behind travelling is that snow must be so much more fun elsewhere, so of course the rest of the holidays must be as well. In all reality he just wants to make sure you have a fun Christmas. Travelling during it and experiencing different places and cultures are a fun new way to experience the holiday. 

~La Brava📸-Handy with the tech, but mostly with the camera. She amasses an entire compilation of you throughout the day and she’ll stay up all night stitching it together. The day after Christmas comes and she sits you down on the couch to watch it with her. Honestly she’s the sweetest and most dedicated partner that anyone could ask for. The way she treats you makes you thankful not just for spending Christmas with her, but for spending any day of the year with her. 

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Tonight It's Scrooge McDuck

Summary- 3.1k Me (calling him Mike) x Y/N. (Playing It Cool AU) Getting closer to the big day and your starting to get into the spirit. Mikes script goes over well and he decides to pick up another one right away, for reasons. Warnings- Playful Smut. Written for @star-spangled-beard-burn​ Seasons of Fiction Writing 2020 and @jtargaryen18​ 30 Days of Chris. 

A/N- so fun fact about myself, I really love the holidays. When I got a chance to write a Christmas Fic in June, you can bet I jumped at the chance. 

Chapter One- We Gotta Watch The Wet Bandits. 

     Mike nuzzled up behind you, the tip of his nose cold against the back of your neck and you groaned, reaching behind you to push him away. "Stop it, your cold." Burrowing further into the blankets, you heard him laugh, and then his hand slid to press under your shirt against your belly, and that jolted you awake. Yelping, you try to wriggle out of his hold, crying out. "Your such an ass Mike, Santas just bringing you coal." You settled back into a lull as his all over chilly body pressed against yours from behind. "Yea yea, I feel you Frosty, your icicle is stabbing my backside." giggling as your hand came to rub on his that was slowly warming up on your belly when you narrowed your eyes and looked over your shoulder. "Why are you cold? Were in southern California. There is no cold."

"Hot waters out again. I’ve gotta call the landlord later."

Of course it is, your thinking as you roll to your back and rub your hands against his chest. "Well Mike why didn’t you get out? Could have gone to Scott's later." Now trying to warm him up, his lips had a blue tinge, and his cheeks, nose were bright red, you cuddles in closer to him.

"Already had the soap in, no turning back then. Mama didn't raise a quitter. I have a meeting with Brian this morning, so no time to go all the way uptown to Scott's." He pressed his cool lips against your shoulder, before tilting his face up to give you a teasing kiss, which you couldn’t help but smile into, skimming your hand over his short buzzed hair. Even if the rest of him was like a damn igloo, his breath, minty and warm though, and you sighed with appreciation at that.

"Ugh, well I'm not taking a cold shower. Means I have to go to Mal's before work. Also means I also got to get up now." You tilted your head to catch the time on his radio clock. "So I can't warm you up." You go to pull away and his arm just tightens, keeping you there.

"Give me five minutes, that clocks fast." Mikes teasing your pulse point with soft kisses, the kind he knew would make your toes curl.

"That clock is automatically set. Calling bullshit liar liar." You pointed out, your hands now clutching at his back as he moved down your collarbone and didn't seem to be letting up. This was the problem with long term boyfriends.

They knew your weaknesses.

"How about I drive you over to Mallory’s, then drop you off at work before my meeting?" Mike tried to compromise again, this time he reached your chest and let his chin scrape in your cleavage, and he dropped kisses above the swells, not making the effort to remove the top just yet. "Fine. One minute sex, two minutes cuddle, two more to get out the door."

"Counteroffer, two and a half minutes sex, one and a half minutes cuddle, and one minute to get out the door?" He arched a brow and flashed a tantalizing grin.

You rolled your eyes up, thinking when you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. "Deal lover boy, show me your minute moves."

"Promised I would be quick, works already half done. Remember, I'm frozen stiff." He wiggled his eyebrows as he hovered over you and you couldn't help but laugh so hard your body shook underneath him, his body and arms encasing you and a roll of his hips pressed his groin against you.

So maybe he was stiff, but he sure wasn't frozen. Heated kisses went down your neck, and a hand shifted between your thighs to tease your cunt while you hooked a leg around his hip. “Well, you still have the other half to accomplish.” You hissed as his fingers started to put the right amount of pressure against your clit, and you rocked into his palm.

Mike gave a light bite to your neck, sucking on a pulse point before lining himself up, pressing against your entrance, and making you arch for more. “Are you... doubting my abilities to get you off?” His voice a graveled deepness that rumbled through him the further he filled you, your nails grasping into his back. “No, but I'm not going to hold it against you if you can't in two minutes.” His first thrust made you rock back to meet him, tightening your leg further and bringing the other one around him, gripping lightly around him.

“Two and a half is what I said baby, and I'm not backing down from a challenge.” Angling himself, he sought out that sweet spot that have you clutching around him and pressing your head back into the pillow. “Take that back now Baby?”

Gasping as he was relentless, you bit your lip and nodded, soon cumming around his cock and his thrusts turned quick and hard, moving to reach his end. A tilt of your head, you glanced at the clock, coming back down from your high, enjoying his weight keeping you pressed into the bed. “Handsome?”

He rubbed his face in your shoulder and hummed softly. “Yes?”

“We went over our two and a half minute mark, and passing the five minutes now. I also still need to get to Mallory’s. ”

“Well fuck, there's always next time.” He pushed himself up, and helped you up, the two of you rushing to get dressed, you look at the time as your trying to pack your makeup to do at Mallory's. “Shit, I'm going to be late today.”

Mike pulled you out of the apartment, keys in hand. “Come on, your not going to be late.” Locking the door firmly behind. “I already messaged Mal, doors unlocked, you can jump right into the shower and I will go get you your DD order to go. We're going to be fine.”

“And when did you get to be the collected one in this relationship?” You questioned while going down the stairs, Mike right behind you, following out the door. “Amazing what a cold shower will do for you Baby.”

    Mike settled in Brian’s office, watching as the editor dipped his head back, laughing so hard he was crying, wiping at his eye. “Brilliant Man, I don't know how you come up with this shit, but it's gold.”

Mike gave a shrug, he couldn't help the grin on the corner of his face lifting halfway up. “Good, good, I’m glad it works. You know comedies are eh for me.” Brian rolled his eyes and leaned forward tapping the script. “Mike, you know why I give you these, cause hell if you can't deliver. You're on your game, I’m more than happy to send this off to the studio and have them try to find any issues with this. Now, I got a drama script that I've been holding off from...” Brian started and Mike held up his hand.

“Hold up, I just did this and not looking to jump into one due in another 6 weeks if that's what you're looking to do. Especially since Y/N and I will be going away for a week or two.”

“Right now? Mike, you do know I have people asking for your scripts in particular. I gotta give the people what they want.” Brian tried to reason with him, but Mike just shook his head.

“Sorry, I already booked the reservations and tickets. Y/N hasn't been home in years. If it all works out, we will be going right around New Years. Her office shuts down for about a month after Christmas, so it makes the perfect time to take her.”

Brian rocked slightly in his chair, looking thoughtful, his fingers tapping against the arms of the chair. “Alright, I hear you. You wanna take your girl out and give her a good time. You have been writing for me for a long time, so how about this incentive. Double the pay, and get it half-written for me before you leave. That way I got something to give them.”

Mike looked a bit doubtful as he eyed Brian over the desk. He really wanted to tell him to shove it, in a rather colorful way, cause he was looking forward to perhaps spending the holiday with you without a due date hanging over his head. But Brian had given him lots of chances over the years, tried to get him the best pieces to write, and was somewhat accommodating through his occasional bouts of writer's block. But that extra bit of money to be able to take you to New York with was a tempting offer. And he really wanted to treat you to something special. “You get me an advance on this script, and I will have half of it ready.”

Brian broke out in a grin and held out his hand. “You got it.” Mike leaned forward to and a shake was shared between the men, sealing the deal.

   You burst into the apartment, with yet more bags, and a couple rolls of paper to wrap with to find Mike back at his small desk in the corner, tapping as fast as he could, the computers glow lighting up his face. You paused a second, and your brows furrowed. “What, did Brian not like the script?”

He glanced up a moment, and back to the computer, continuing on. “Oh He liked it just fine Y/N, but he had another lined up for me to take on right away.”

You bring the bags to the spare bedroom, and them come back, looking over his shoulder and running your hands along his shoulders. “I’m surprised Brian insisted you take another one on so soon. You always take a reprieve afterward.” Your eyes scanning what he had so far, it appeared to be a drama of some kind, but he was still in the beginning process.

Mikes fingers faltered a moment, and he pushed back from the keyboard just a bit and turned the chair. You moved to perch on his lap, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck. “Well, he offered and I said ok.”

You couldn't help but show a bit of disappointment, already knowing what that meant. He was going to be attached to his desk for the whole holiday season. His hands came to rub your side, jostling you a bit to get your attention. “What’s wrong Baby?”

You wrinkled your nose a bit, and let your fingers trail along the back of his neck. “Well it's Christmas time, we got the Potluck here this year with everyone. Your going to stress, and worry all the way till you turn this into Brian. Why did you not wait?”

Mike knew you were right, he couldn't help but get caught up in the work, worrying about it's quality and deadlines, but the extra pay for his upcoming surprise made it worth it. He smiled and shook his head. “Nah, this ones easy Baby, I’m already quarter of the way done and won't get in the way of our Christmas, m'kay? I took it cause they couldn't wait and offered me a pretty good chunk of change to get it done. But it's only got to be half done, by New Years. Piece of Cake Baby. ”

You squint your eyes at him as if doubtful and finally give a roll of the eyes. “Okay, Mike. But your on the naughty list. Be good rest of the time and Mrs.Santa might forgive you for this morning. Which, speaking of, You call the Landlord?”

He gave a sheepish grin and you sighed, holding out your hand. “Give me your phone so I can look up his number.” Once he handed it over with a apology, and you stood up, scrolling through his contacts. “Night time movie showing in an hour.”

Mike had already turned back to his keyboard, fingers pounding on it. “Mmhm, what is it?”

“Mickey Mouse and Scrooge McDuck, A Christmas Carol.” You retorted, heading to the kitchen while hitting the phone icon.

Reading over his recent words, he paused, calling out. “Hey, that better not be a jab at me?”

You smirked at him and stuck out your tongue, teasing. “Hey, Carl? Yea, we got a situation. Hot Water is out again...” Mike shook his head and turned back to the computer.

    You were humming while decorating the tree that next weekend, Mike hauling another box up the stairs and set it on the card table you set up in the living room by your fake tree. “Last box Babes" He huffed out, and ran his hand across his forehead. You went to tiptoes and pecked a kiss on his cheek. “And it was much appreciated labor, you will find a cold beer in the fridge with your name on it.” Turning to the box, your singing along to the music playing in the background.

“Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet Jingle around the clock Mix and a-mingle in the jinglin' feet That's the jingle bell rock

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock Jingle bell chime in jingle bell time Dancin' and prancin' in Jingle Bell Square In the frosty air...”

You were swaying your body while dancing around the tree, hanging up ornaments here and there. Mike watched a moment, catching his breath going up all the flights of stairs with the heavy box. You had mentioned a beer, thinking that sounded like a decent idea before going back to writing, he went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Sure enough, there was a beer with his name on it. A Yellow Post It was stuck with his name, a heart at the end, and he gave a soft smile, reaching in for it. Noticing there was another one underneath it, he flipped it up to read “I Love You.”

Something so simple and yet you went out of your way to do it. There was once a time that it would have scared the hell out of him. Would have had him backpedaling so damn fast you would have gotten whiplash. His alter ego be telling him to break it off. Now though, he couldn't imagine anything other than this between you two. He still wasn't sure how in the hell he got so lucky.

Peeling off the notes, he brought it over to his computer and stuck the two notes to the wall, and unscrewed the top, tossing it in the wastebasket. He glanced up again to see you still singing along, and sorting out a various amount of ornaments onto the table to see what you had. Glancing down at his laptop, he pushed the top down to a close.

It was Christmas.

Going back into the living room, you were going to tiptoes to hang something up near the top, when he set down the bottle and came up behind, wrapping arms around your waist as you lower back to your feet. Leaning back into him, you tipped your head back and nibbled against his jawline.

“Not writing tonight?” You asked, and he shook his head.

“Not tonight, tonight we're decorating the tree.” Letting you go and looking over the decorations, he plucked one up and went to hang it in the tree, giving you a look with a smirk. “Close your eyes, Im hanging the pickle and you can't see where I'm putting it.”

“Fine, when I find it, I get bragging rights this year.”

“You're never going to find it.” He teased as you covered your eyes, and the rest of the evening you two teased and debated about where ornaments would go. Finally, when you had hung up the last one, Mike studied the tree with a tilted of the head, trying to find what it was missing. “Doesn’t it need a star Baby?” He kissed your neck, and you hummed in agreement, matching the new song playing in the background.  

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas Soon the bells will start And the thing that will make them ring Is the carol that you sing Right within your heart

“Yup, how about you put it up, and I will plug in the lights?” You reached for the silver star in the box, and gently handed it to Mike, while going around to the backside. Watching as he got it to sit just right, and stepped back to double check. “Okay baby, plug them in.”

The lights came on, and Mike reached out to hit the light switch, turning off the rest of the lights so that only the trees glow lit up the apartment. Coming around and breaking in a huge smile, Mike pulled you back into his arms, and swayed slightly back and forth to the music. “You did a good job Baby.” Pressing his lips to your temple.

“It really does look good this year. Oh! I got one more thing to hang up. But it's not for the tree. Wait right here.” You slip out of his hold and head towards the spare bedroom, and Mike continues looking at the tree, once in a while reaching out to adjust something. You come back out with your hands behind your back, sidling up to him.

“Wanna guess what I got behind my back?” You wiggle your brows, and Mike shakes his head, chuckling. “I couldn't even begin to guess baby.”

“Close your eyes” You instruct, and when he did, you lift your arm to hover your arm over the two of you. “Okay Open them up Handsome.”

When his blue eyes take you in, all the way up to your hand hanging over his head, he laughed and wrapped arms around you to bring you in close. “You plan this, you Little Minx?”

Wiggling it above your two heads, you nod. “You know tradition, you HAVE to kiss me under the mistletoe.”

“Well can't be breaking tradition, can we?” He brought you in flush with a hand against the back of your head, and kissed you deeply, his palm pressing against your lower back slid to grasp your waist, and you dropped your arm to loop around the back of his neck, falling right into the kiss, and he dropped from your lips to scatter across your face, making you giggle.

Pulling back he arched his brows. “So... You think that also works in the bedroom?”

You twirled the mistletoe, and bit your lip. “How about we go find out?”

“At least this time I won't be freezing cold.” Mike stated, not even giving you a chance to change your mind, scooping you up to head back to the bedroom, leaving the tree all lit up for the rest of the night.

[badsext]

Diego or David songfic to the Spanish Bailando by Enrique Iglesias. Can be smutty 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏 I will love you five ever if u did this

Rooftop Lovin’ and Vigilante Justice: Diego x Fem! Reader

Thank you for the request! This is my first Diego. I hope you like it!

Warnings: Smut, of course!

___________________________________________

You were the last one in the office again. In the two years you’d been working for the company, you saw your department shrink by half. All decisions came straight from the top and the CEO was a real Scrooge. You’d survived each round of layoffs, only to have your workload doubled, quadrupled. But the raise you asked for was ‘just not in the budget.’ Still, any thoughts you’d have about quitting were always eclipsed by the loathsome reality of trying to find a new job.

You were hunkered down at your desk, trying to finish a spreadsheet your boss needed like yesterday when a knock on the glass lobby doors startled you half to death.

“Diego, Jesus Christ! How did you get up here?,” you scolded him through the glass. He just pointed to the elevator. He wore his signature black vigilante gear, with a black domino mask across his eyes. You swore he could do no wrong in that outfit.

You came out into the lobby, trying to stay cool and not give him the satisfaction of knowing how horny he made you just by showing up. “I mean how did you get past security?”

“Those idiots don’t know what they’re doing.”

“Well, that’s comforting…What are you doing here?”

“This is a jail break.” he said, dramatically punching the elevator button with the side of his fist. “All these long nights - It’s not right. You need some TLC.” He always called you by your last name. He used it like a term of endearment. You thought it was cute.

When the doors opened, Diego pulled you inside, his hands firmly around your hips, his lips exploring your neck. “Woah…hey,” you hissed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp while fighting back you own desire. “What about the cameras?”

“I switched the feed. It will be hours before they even notice it,” he replied with a sly grin.

That was all you needed to hear. You pressed yourself against him, feeling his sculpted body and the hard steel of his knives against your sides. He responded with a deep kiss, groaning into your lips and sliding his hands around to grab himself a handful of your ass. Then with his face still attached to yours he blindly mashed some buttons to get the elevator started. It was reckless passion like this that drew you to Diego.

The elevator suddenly opened on a random floor. A tired looking woman got on. You quickly separated and Diego whipped off his mask. His brown eyes were so beautiful and expressive, steeling glances at you while the woman starred at the ground. You were glad this stranger gave him a reason to take it off.

When you got to the roof, Diego started playing Bailando on his phone. You loved Enrique Iglesias and that song was your favorite. It was a beautiful night. The sky was clear and the weather was warm. You leaned against the edge. Even at full volume you could barely hear the song above the sounds of the city, but you knew every note and lyric by heart. It continued to play in your head as Diego undressed you.

First he unbuttoned your blouse…'Yo te miro y se me corta la respiración’ (I look at you and it cuts my breathing)…

Then he unclasped your bra…'Cuando tú me miras se me sube el corazón’ (When you look at me my heart goes up)…

His hands caressed your naked skin in the open air…'Y en un silencio tu mirada dice mil palabras (And in the silence your look says a thousand words)…

“Mmm…you know what I want,” you said breathlessly. “Come on, D, Just fucking do it!” You bounced like a petulant child.

“Okay, but you have to hold still.”

He reached under your skirt and used his knife to cut off your lace panties with surgeon like precision then held them up to his nose with his eyelids half mast. “You’ve been thinking about me a lot today, haven’t you?”

You nodded and smiled. “Yo quiero estar contigo,” you said touching yourself. He pulled your hand away to lick your fingers. Then he slipped his fingers up inside you and groaned at the wetness he found there. He continued to rub your clit and pump his fingers while he looked into your eyes. You matched the intensity of his gaze until you felt yourself starting to come. Your head rolled back and your legs twitched as you felt the wave of pleasure wash over you.

Diego shed his vest of knives and began working on his belt. You kissed him and stroked his chest, then wandered lower until your hand was on his cock. He was so hard and eager for your touch, but you teased him with only the tips of your fingers. He couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled your thighs further apart and thrust himself deep inside you. The stretched feeling made you moan. He circled your opening, providing more friction to your already swollen aching clit. It wasn’t long before another orgasm thundered through your body.

He pulled out and flipped you around. Now facing the street, you suddenly remembered that you were twenty stories up, but the pleasure chemicals running through your bloodstream made you impervious to fear. Diego pounded you so good, it was like a drug. He came at last, giving you everything he had.

“Should we continue this conversation at home in bed?,” he asked when the elevator doors opened to the ground floor lobby. The security guard looked mortified.

“Yes, but first a little vigilante justice?” You motioned to the huge ostentatious portrait of the CEO, prominently displayed in the lobby, like he was Louie the fucking fourteenth.

“With pleasure.” Diego removed one of the knives from its holster and threw it straight into the painting right between the bastard’s beady little eyes.

Want more?

@bubblyani @helena-way07 @bi-satanist @dandycandy75 @zombiedixon89 @moorehollandplz @yeetskeetbuddy @diegoh4rgreeves @turtlease @dopeybubbles @deadlynyghtshayde

[seosongseo]

I’m Dreaming of a College Christmas (Seonghwa)

Merry Christmas @prksnghwas it is I, your Atiny secret santa!! It was amazing being your anon for this event and wanted to gift you this fic as a Christmas gift. I really hope you enjoy it and it’s been so much fun getting to know you 😁😁

This also is really cheesy but it includes Seonghwa and Hongjoong in a college au plus typical Ateez antics so I hope it makes up for the cheese lol

TW: Some minor swearing but that's it!!

Christmas, a time to celebrate with friends and family. A time to celebrate joy and happiness with delicious food and presents and other traditions.

The entire month of December is usually dedicated to the festive celebration, with classic movies, carols, snow, and, if one’s lucky, love.

What the holiday season shouldn’t entail is finals week. But alas, college is funny that way.

And here you were, a simple photography major spending another holiday season alone, your camera and portfolio the only things keeping you company as finals week approaches

Your roommate Hongjoong, was also stuck inside his room, spending countless hours hunched over his computer composing a song or sketching his latest design in his sketchbook

You don’t know how he manages to get all his assignments done in time, but at this point you’re too afraid to ask

You and Hongjoong have been friends for all your lives, and rooming together in college seemed the only viable way to keep yourselves sane during these next four years

See, you and Hongjoong had your own system of living together. You clean your respective spaces, take turns cleaning the living room and the bathroom, and make sure the other doesn’t skip meals or stay up too late to get an assignment done (though the latter part is more you forcing Hongjoong to eat something and sleep for more than 4 hours a night, but for the sake of his pride we’ll say it’s a joint effort)

This finals week was no different, you staying either in your room assembling your portfolio or in the dark room in the Arts building, deciding to spend the week avoiding any and all Christmassy activities until you were able to go back home for the winter break

This included the pre-finals/Christmas party your residence hall was having on your floor

Little did you know, down the hall from your room, Park Seonghwa was also in short supply of Christmas cheer

The Psychology major was also holed up in his room, cranking our final after final and ignoring his roommates’ holiday cheer

“Wooyoung, San, no matter how many times you put up mistletoe above my door, I’m not kissing you”

“Oh come on!”

“Quit being a Scrooge and give your favorite roommates some smooches!”

“I’m moving out.”

Yeah, Seonghwa wasn’t in much of the holiday spirit either

Which is why both your roommates decided to forcibly drag you and Seonghwa to the holiday party

“Get your ass out of that dark room and socialize”- Hongjoong, 2020, complete with not one, but two specially made Christmas sweaters

Something about there being an “ugly sweater contest” as part of the party 

Donning the sweater, Hongjoong drags you you and Hongjoong make your way to your floor’s lounge where the party is in full swing

You’re honestly surprised at how many people actually showed up, but with free food and a break from studying, you don’t see why they wouldn’t

Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” is blasting from someone’s speaker, and you find it to be Yunho, one of the boys living next door to you, holding the speaker over his head with one hand and a glass of eggnog in the other

Grabbing a gingerbread man, you take a seat on one of the couches and observe the other residents celebrating the holidays

Hongjoong managed to get sucked in a cookie decorating competition with residents who you’ve never seen before, Yunho has sucked his roommates Mingi and Jongho in carol karaoke, and their friend Yeosang is filming the trio

You feel the couch dip slightly next to you, and you choke on your gingerbread when you see none other than Park Seonghwa sitting beside you, your hot neighbor and one of Hongjoong’s friends

You developed a crush on him in your freshman year, but luck hasn’t been on your side when it comes to him

You’ve interacted with Seonghwa only a handful of times, and each time was more embarrassing than the last

The first time was when you closed the elevator doors in front of Seonghwa’s face because you didn’t hear him ask for you to keep them open

The second was when you were entering the laundry room and found him taking your clothes from the dryer, your Pikachu underwear in his hand and a “You know there’s a 10 minute time limit” leaving his lips

And the third time was when you slipped down the stairs in a robe and slippers in front of him during a fire drill

You really didn’t need there to be a fourth mishap, not now or not until you graduate

But the night is young

“So I take it you were dragged here against your will too?”

You nearly choke on the cookie you were eating after Seonghwa broke the silence

You clear your throat, “Yeah, Hongjoong wanted me to ‘get in the holiday spirit.’”

“You and me both, but it seems like we’re being Grinches.”

You let out a small chuckle and the silence becomes awkward for a moment or two

“Maybe we should do something Christmassy,” you suggest

Seonghwa nods and stands up before coming back with two silver balls, stickers, and markers

“Nothing says ‘Christmas’ better than ornaments!”

The smile on Seonghwa’s face is enough for you to decide that you’d decorate as many ornaments as humanly possible

The two of you are in your own little bubble as the party goes on, Yunho and Mingi harmonizing to “Baby It’s Cold Outside” while Wooyoung and San are trying to see who can drink the most eggnog

Seonghwa’s in the middle of telling you of the time Wooyoung wanted to make slime so he and San used their dorm’s sink and left Seonghwa to clean up the mess when said roommates start screaming

“Hey it’s snowing!”

Everyone rushes to the windows in the lounge to watch the snow, you and Seonghwa following suit

You watch as the flakes dance through the night sky and you want nothing more than to stick your hand out and grab one

Everyone goes back to their holiday festivities as you and Seonghwa stay watching the snow fall

It’s silent again, but this time it’s more comforting than awkward

“You know,” Seonghwa starts, “I feel like my day got a lot merrier thanks to you, y/n.”

You let out a chuckle, “I will pay you to never say the word “merrier” ever again.”

“How about a date as payment?”

Your eyes widen as they meet his sparkling ones as someone, or rather, two someones coo the lyrics to “Santa Baby”

You and Seonghwa turn to the source of the song and find Wooyoung and San with shit-eating grins on their faces and mistletoe dangling from their hands

Above you and Seonghwa

“Why must you do this to me?”

“Well if you aren’t gonna kiss us, you might as well kiss the pretty neighbor next to you,” San suggests, wiggling the mistletoe again as Wooyoung keeps singing

Seonghwa groans, looking at you for confirmation, and leaning in for a peck on the cheek after he receives permission

“There, now leave us alone.”

Wooyung tuts a “No fun” before pulling San to another duo to pester

“I’m sorry about them,” Seonghwa sighs. “They’ve been bothering me with that stupid plant all month.”

You shrug, “I don’t mind.”

“So what do you say about dinner after finals?”

You smile, leaning in to kiss Seonghwa’s cheek.

“It’s a date.”

Maybe Christmas joy could be found on a college campus

[mustangshelby04]

No

Pairings: Chris Evans / Charlotte Mackenzie (O/C)

Summary: Saying no leads Charlotte to a friendship she has never imagined.

A/N: I’m trying to force myself to write. Maybe this will light a fire under my ass…. Or my muse’s. She’s a bit flakey.

Chapter 3

Charlie sat on one of her plush couches with her nose in a manuscript.  She had been living and working in Massachusetts for a solid year.  Her new job kept her plenty busy, but she had managed to find a friend in another book editor named Eddie.  He loved to joke that he was the worst gay BFF ever because he wasn’t a flamboyant person and he had no fashion sense to speak of.  Charlie had joked that he was the straightest gay man she had ever met.

She had made other friends, too.  Chris had introduced her to his sisters and she and Shanna had become fast friends.  She was most responsible for getting Charlie out of the house.  Lisa visited at least once a week and they would sit and talk about Charlie’s job and the books they were interested in while drinking tea.  

Chris had recently taken a couple of jobs that filmed in and around the Boston area, so he was home a lot nowadays.  They spent their time together seeing the sites, playing tourist, and hanging out at each others’ houses.  Chris loved to tell her stories about growing up in the area.  She particularly loved the story of him waking up the morning after prom on the neighbor’s front lawn.  

Their friendship was going strong.  They had had sex only a grand total of six times so far in the last year.  Chris had been off filming in various locations around the world the first part of the year she’d lived there, so making good on their plans had been pushed aside for a few months.  The first time they’d been intimate had been extremely awkward, neither of them quite sure of what the other was ok with.  Both of them were used to being the one to take charge in the bedroom.  Eventually, she had finally relented and let him take the lead.

“Ow!  You’re on my hair.” Charlie said.

“Oh, damn!  I’m sorry.” Chris apologized, shifting his weight.  She giggled and he rolled his eyes. “I swear, I’m much better at this usually.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have skipped the foreplay.”

“You were the one that jumped me!”

“Oh!  That is not how it AH!” He had shoved into her and the sudden invasion had startled her. “Well, that wasn’t very nice.”

“Sure felt nice.” Charlie snorted.  Chris started pumping his hips and Charlie moved hers around, trying to find her own rhythm. “Mac, stop moving so much.  You’re throwing me off.”

“You’re throwing me off!”

“I’m on top, here.  You gonna let me do my thing?”

“Why are you on top, again?”

“Did you want to be on top?” She blushed and shook her head. “I’m literally buried balls deep in you and that made you blush?”

“Would you get on with it?”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

“Tell you what, you let me do my thing and if it needs some adjustments, tell me.  This will go a lot smoother.”

He had been right.  The next few times had been a little smoother.  She started to get more vocal about what she wanted and liked.  He was more than happy to oblige.  By the sixth time, just a week ago, she had gotten braver.  

Chris and Charlie sat on his couch watching a rerun of I Love Lucy.  Dodger, Chris’ dog, was dozing between the couch and the coffee table.  Charlie looked over at Chris and admired the way his biceps looked in the slightly-too-small T-shirt he wore.  He didn’t notice her stare, so she took more time to admire his smooth cheek.  The part in Boston had required him to be clean-shaven and she was admiring his strong jawline that had been hidden by his beard.

“Ok, creeper.” Chris said, turning his head to look at her. “What are you staring at?” Charlie didn’t answer.  She moved across the couch and straddled him. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi.” She leaned forward and began gently biting and sucking on his neck.  They had both agreed that kissing was too “relationship-y,” so they used their lips for other things. 

“I like the direction this is headed.” He quipped as she reached her hands under his shirt, sliding it up as her fingers raked through his chest hair.

She shook her head at the memories of last week.  Returning her attention back to her manuscript, it was only a few seconds later that her phone dinged.  She grabbed it off the end table and looked at the text from Chris.

The chat bubble from him read, “You home?”

She quickly typed out an answer. “Where else would I be?”

“Be over in a few.”

Fifteen minutes later, Chris walked in through the garage door.  She had given him a key to her house so he could water her plants when she’d had to fly back to Omaha to be there for Amanda when her first round of IVF had ended with a miscarriage. “Ho, ho, ho!”

“Who are you calling a ho?” Charlie called out from the library.

“You do know you have a bunch of other rooms in this house, right?” He joked, striding into the room.

“None of them are as exciting as this one.”

“That’s because it’s the second week of December and you don’t have a tree.”

“I told you.  I don’t have any decorations.”

“I thought you were going to buy some.”

“I haven’t yet.”

“All right,” He marched over and snatched the manuscript away.  Setting it on the desk, he blocked her from getting to it. “Get your coat, Mac.  We’re going shopping.” “Chris….”

“No friend of mine is going to be a Scrooge two years in a row.  I’m not having that.”

“I’m not a Scrooge.  I like Christmas.”

“Says the woman who doesn’t even have a tree.”

“I was going to get one.”

“When?  Christmas Eve next year?”

“No.  New Years Day three years from now.  I’m sure I’ll get a great deal.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Look, you can come willingly or I can fireman carry you out of here, but either way, we’re going Christmas shopping.” 

She leveled a glare at him, but he wasn’t budging.  Finally, she huffed and strode past him. “You’re driving.”

Chris watched Charlie balance on the chair to put the star on the top of the tree.  They had spent the last two hours putting up her fake tree, decorating it, and arguing about whether or not she needed her front yard decorated.  He had snuck some outdoor lights into the purchase with the intent of putting them up.

“Mandy would say you need them.” Chris threw out.

“And Mandy would pay someone to put them up.” Charlie shot back.

“I’ll call Scott to help us put them up.  You can pay us in beer.”

“Who’s us?  I’m not putting them up.  This is the extent of my decorating.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Fine, Scott and I will put them up.”

“Why are you so insistent on Christmas decorations?”

“Because I love Christmas!”

“Clearly.”

“Come on, Mac.  You used to tell me that Christmases with your aunt were special to you.”

“They were.  But she’s gone now and I live a couple thousand miles away from where I grew up.”

Chris sighed. “Why does that mean you can’t celebrate Christmas anymore?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, you do realize that you’re more than welcome to join the festivities with my family.  Ma has been threatening to replace me with you anyway.”

“She has not.”

“She definitely has.  We got into an argument last week and she threw that at me.”

Charlie laughed. “I highly doubt that I would live up to her eldest son.”

“Nope.  You’d surpass me.”

“Shut up.  I wouldn’t.”

He chuckled. “Seriously, Mac.  Come celebrate with me and mine.” She started to protest, but he cut her off. “I will bug the shit out of you until you say yes.  And I’ll have my sisters, mother, and brother cover the hours I can’t.”

“I swear to god, you’ve been talking with Mandy about how to force me into things.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Wait, you have?  For real?”

“Yeah!”

“How have you been talking to her?”

Chris shrugged. “Email.”

“Email?  And how did you get her email?”

“I stole it off your computer.”

“Chris!”

“What?”

“You can’t just go through my stuff like that!”

“I didn’t.  I swear!  You went to the bathroom and you left your email to her up.  I wrote it down.”

“Why?”  

“I needed some advice.”

“On what?”

“Nunya.”

“Chris!”

“Ok!  I needed advice on what to buy you for Christmas.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Yeah.”

“This Christmas?”

“Yeah.”

“God!  Now I’m going to have to get you something.”

Chris placed his hand over his heart in mock shock. “You didn’t get me anything?”  

“What did you get me?”

“I’m not telling!”

“Does Mandy know?”

“Of course she does and no, she won’t tell you.  She swore.  Can we stop with the third degree now?”

“She can’t swear to you.  I’m her best friend.  Her loyalty is to me.”

“You spend too much time with your nose in fiction.”

“Says the guy who plays a hundred year old soldier hopped up on steroids.”

“Hey!”

Charlie laughed. “Don’t worry, Cap.  I’m not even a fan.”

Chris suddenly grabbed her around the waist and hauled her off the chair.  She let out a surprised yelp and he laughed as he dropped her down on the couch.  Before she could stand up, he jumped on top of her and straddled her hips. “That was mean.”

“Which part?” She teased. “When I called Cap an old druggie or when I said I’m not a fan?”

“Both.” “Gonna punish me for it?”

“Maybe.”

“Tis the season for forgiveness, though.”

“Is it?” He poked her in the side and she bucked under him.

“Chris!” He laughed and poked her on her other side.  She bucked again and growled about how much she hated being tickled.  He, of course, knew this and began poking and tickling wherever he got an opening.  She slapped at his hands and tried to push him off, but he was too strong. “Chris, stop!” To her surprise, he actually did.  

He was holding her wrists above her head with one of his hands, but he stopped tickling her with the other.  They both laid there, breathing heavily.  They were both very aware of each other’s bodies pressed together, their faces mere centimeters apart.  Suddenly he closed the gap between them and captured her lips with his.  The kiss was chaste.  No tongues were used, but it felt like an electrical current was running through them.  When he pulled back, she stared up at him in shock.  It lasted for all of a second before she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him back down to her.

Chris moaned into her lips as his jean glad hips ground into her.  She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on.  He released her arms and she reached for the hem of his shirt and ripped it off quickly.  He moved his lips to her neck while his fingers traced up her ribs, pushing the shirt up above her breasts.  A small sigh escaped her lips as his hands each gripped the mounds of flesh, his thumbs lightly tracing her nipples.

Charlie raked her nails down his back, forcing a low growl from Chris.  His mouth began a torturously slow trek down her body while her hands gripped his hair.  Somewhere in the room, she could swear she heard her phone ring.  Chris didn’t seem to hear it, so she concentrated on his fingers undoing her jeans.  The ringing stopped as he finished opening the zipper and she raised her hips to help him remove her jeans.  He began tracing circular patterns on one of her inner thighs while his teeth nipped at her other thigh.  

The ringing started again, but they both ignored it as he dipped one finger under her panties to trace her folds.  She let out a groan, needing more contact from him.  He chuckled and lightly bit down on her thigh.  The ringing stopped and Chris’s finger pushed into her.  He quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out of her.  When he knew she was about to explode, Chris stopped his ministrations and pulled away.  He brought his fingers to his lips, but stopped when Charlie’s phone rang again.

She growled and sat up. “I don’t even know where it is.”

Chris wasn’t going to let her go, though.  She managed to stand up only to have him grab her by the waist and pull her back down.  He easily maneuvered her around to have her bent over the arm of the couch.  Quickly yanking down his pants and rolling on a condom, they ignored the ringing again as he shoved into her.  They both began grunting and growling obscenities as he fucked her over the arm of the couch.  Without any kind of hesitation, Chris slapped one globe of her ass to see what kind of reaction she had.  She gripped the arm of the couch tighter and let out a moan.  He did it again to her other cheek with an almost identical response.

“Fuck!” Chris groaned. “You feel so good.”

“Harder, Chris.” Charlie begged.

“Happy to oblige.” He began pistoning in and out of her, their flesh making wet slapping sounds.  Her phone began to ring again. “I’m so close.”

“Chris!” Charlie’s head whipped back, flipping her hair down her back.  He watched it spill around her shoulders as she rode out her orgasm.  Something about the way it moved made him lose control.  His thrusts stuttered as he came, pulling her against him and twitching his hips as he came down from his own high.

They collapsed down to the couch and Charlie wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Sorry.” Chris said suddenly.

“For what?” She asked, genuinely confused. “For kissing you.  I know we agreed to no kissing, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Charlie shrugged. “I’ll let it slide this time.”

“Are we sticking with that rule?”

“I mean…. Kissing is so intimate.”

“And fucking isn’t?”

“Not like kissing is.  Kissing is…. Romantic.  We’re not romantic.” Charlie’s phone started ringing again. “What?!” She got up and located her phone, answering it without even looking to see who was calling her. “This had better be…. Oh.  Hey!  Mandy, slow down.  What are you saying?” Charlie glanced at Chris watching her intently. “Oh no!  Oh, Mandy, I’m so sorry.  Of course I will!  I need to make some arrangements and I’ll call you back.  Ok.  I promise.  Love you, too.” She hung up and immediately started gathering her clothes.

“What’s wrong?”

“The last round of IVF finally worked and she was pregnant.  She went in for her second scan, but there was no heartbeat.”

“Oh fuck!”

“I need to pack and call my boss.”

“I’ll help.” Chris grabbed his pants and shirt, quickly tossing them on. “I’ll pack for you while you go call your boss.”

“Thank you!”

Chris stood off in a corner and waited for Charlie at baggage claim.  She had been back in Nebraska for the last week comforting Mandy.  He had talked to her once during that week and that conversation had been brief.  She had shot him a text yesterday asking if he would be able to pick her up from the airport.

Finally, he spotted her messy red hair up in a high ponytail.  She looked like she hadn’t slept all week.  Charlie finally saw him and she smiled a tired smile.  He opened his arms and she walked right into them.  They stood there for a long time, content to give and take comfort to each other.  Finally, Charlie released him and looked up.  She had tears starting to dry on her cheeks.

“That fun, huh?” Chris asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“We spent pretty much the entire time in her bed just crying.” Charlie said, grabbing the handle on her rolling carry-on. 

“How’s Roger?”

“He’s a mess, but he’s staying strong for her.  I found him crying in the laundry room once.”

“Man!  That’s rough.”

“I didn’t want to leave, but I had to get back to work.  Hey, thanks for coming to get me.” “No problem.  I do need to get back to set, though.”

“Right!  I completely forgot that you have a job.” She cracked a smile at him and he shook his head.

“Hey, wanna come see how a movie gets made?”

“You want to take me to a movie set?”

“Yeah!  You up for it?”

“Feed me on the way?”

“I’ll take you straight to craft services.  You’ll love it.”

A little while later, as they rode in silence away from the airport, Chris noticed that Charlie seemed like she was far away from the here and now.  He reached over and squeezed her hand, but she only gave him a tight smile and went back to staring out the window.  Finally, he couldn’t take the heaviness that had settled into the car.

“Hey.” He said gently. “You ok?”

“I, uh…. I don’t know.” Charlie glanced at him as she fiddled with her fingernails.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not yet.”

“Ok.  You sure you wanna come to set with me?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “I need a distraction.”

Two weeks went by before Chris couldn’t take the weirdness anymore.  Charlie had been even more in her head than she normally was.  She’d been working on reading a book for the whole two weeks when it usually took her no more than two days to read one.  Lisa had mentioned to Chris that Charlie had been quiet on their tea dates as well and she was worried about her.  He finally decided that enough was enough and he invited her and his mother over to his house for dinner one night.  He and Lisa had cooked a small meal for them and as they were sitting on the couch after dinner, he broached the subject with her.

“Mac, please talk to us.” Chris said. “You haven’t been yourself since you got back.”

Charlie took a long drink from her wine as she stared sightlessly at the TV. “I know.”

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Lisa asked.

“Nothing’s wrong besides my best friend in the entire world can’t have kids.” Charlie sighed. “The doctor told her she should stop wasting her money because she has a hostile womb, so it’s never going to happen for her.”

“Shit.” Chris said.

“The one thing she’s wanted since she was a child is to have a family and she can’t.”

“There’s always adoption or surrogacy….” 

Chris noticed Charlie flinch slightly at that last word. “What?”

Charlie closed her eyes and pulled her legs tighter under her. “Mandy asked me to be her surrogate.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?” Lisa asked.

“That I needed to think about it.”

“I can see why you’ve been so distracted the last couple of weeks.” “She said that she and Roger had talked about it before the last IVF round since the first two hadn’t worked and they both agreed that they would ask me if it came to it.  They even decided to make it easier for me.  They would move here to Concord.  Mandy said she would find another job out here and Roger said he could work remotely until he finds an office.  Apparently his firm wants to open an East Coast branch and Boston has been tossed around as a potential place for the new office.  If he volunteers to move, he’s pretty sure that he could convince them to choose Boston.” 

Chris blew out a breath and said, “What, uh…. What does that mean for you?  What would you have to do?”

“They showed me these pamphlets and some articles they found on the web.  They’re in my desk in the library.”

“Have you made a decision?” Lisa asked.

“No.” Charlie got up and began to pace. “When I think of saying no to her…. It terrifies me.  I worry that it would crush her for her best friend to say no to something this huge.  I don’t think she would stop being my friend, but it would definitely affect us in some negative way that I don’t even want to fathom.”

“How does it make you feel when you think of saying yes?”

“Terrified.  When I think of saying yes, it’s scary to know, but not know what I would be going through.  You know?  I know it’s selfish to think like that, but it’s a lot.  Like, a lot.”

“I don’t think Mandy would ask you to do something she doesn’t think you could handle.”

“What’s it like…. Being pregnant?”

“Well, every experience is different.  When I was pregnant with Carly, I was sick the first trimester and then everything after was a breeze until she was born.  With Chris, I was sick the whole nine months and uncomfortable and always hungry.” Lisa stood up and stopped Charlie from pacing. “Charlie, this isn’t a decision anyone can make for you.  I wish I could take the burden from you, but I can’t.  Only you know what’s best for you.”

“Did she give you a deadline?” Chris asked.

Charlie shook her head. “She said to take as much time as I needed.”

“Well, that’s good.  That eases the pressure some.” Lisa squeezed Charlie’s hands. “I’ve got to head home.  Charlie, please don’t hesitate to call me with any questions you have.  Or even if you just need to talk to someone.”

“I will.  Thank you so much, Lisa.” Charlie hugged the older woman tightly and walked her to the front door with Chris.  After the door closed, she turned to Chris. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course!” Chris said. “You want me to make up a guest room?”

Charlie shook her head. “No.  Can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?”

“Sure.  I’ll grab you a shirt and I think you left some shorts here to change into.”

“Thanks.” Charlie sighed and walked into the living room while Chris ran down the hallway.  She wanted to take the night off from thinking about THE QUESTION and falling asleep watching a dumb movie with Chris like they usually did with their nights in sounded like the perfect solution.

Please let me know if you want to be tagged in this story. The more people that want to read it, the better. I want my muse to feel the pressure!

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[paintingwithdarkness]

Cookies & BluePulse please 😊😊😊

Cookies

“Cariño, stop eating all the frosting or we’re not gonna have any for the cookies!” Jaime lightly chastised his boyfriend, watching as he squirted yet another glob of heavily dyed icing into his mouth.

Bart’s tongue was already stained green, and the tube, which had been brand new when they’d started was already half gone. Jaime snatched it from him and set it down on the counter.

“Aww,” Bart complained, “but the cookies are taking forever!”

Jaime glanced over to the little oven where a sheet of cookies was baking. He and Bart had decided to go with a homemade sugar cookie dough and had already made quite a mess of the kitchen, without Bart adding frosting to the mix. Both of them were covered in flour, and Jaime’s hands were still coated in a thin layer of grease from kneading the butter into their dough. Even with soap, he hadn’t been able to get all of the residue off. Not to mention the eggs Bart had cracked a little too hard against the counter. Jaime could see the runny yolks they’d failed to clean up trying to drip down onto the floor. The dough-covered Christmas themed cookie cutters they’d used were piled up in the sink.

Jaime watched as Bart reached for the tube of red icing and quickly grabbed him by the wrist before he could pick it up.

Bart whined again. “I’m hungry, Babe!”

“Then eat some of the left over M&Ms,” Jaime sighed. “The colors all taste the same.”

Bart scowled and mumbled something under his breath Jaime couldn’t quite catch, but snatched up the bag of leftover M&Ms and began snacking. He and Jaime had sorted out all of the M&Ms by color and decided that certain ones they probably wouldn’t end up using. An array of candy sat on the counter, all sorted out into bowls lined up next to the tubes of frosting.

Jaime kept a close eye on his boyfriend, making sure he didn’t steal anymore candy or icing he wasn’t supposed to. He knew how fast Bart could be (he was a speedster after all) and knew that even a second’s glance away could mean another tube of icing would go missing. There would be no point to even waiting for the cookies to finish baking if Bart ate up all of the decorations first.

Jaime spared a quick look at the oven timer. The cookies still had three minutes left, and then they needed time to cool. Surely he could keep his boyfriend in line for that much longer...

“Bart!” Jaime exclaimed, turning back around and catching the speedster with the tube of red frosting in hand. He snatched it away with a pointed look.

Bart tossed his head and groaned. “The cookies are taking forever and there’s nothing else to eat!”

Just then, an idea popped into Jaime’s head. He smirked. “Are you sure?” He stepped around the kitchen island to grab Bart by the hips, pressing the speedster’s lower back into the cool edge of the countertop. It wasn’t too often that Jaime was the one to initiate intimacy in their relationship, but he figured if he could keep Bart occupied while waiting for the cookies, and get a little pleasure out of it himself, then why not?

Jaime connected their lips, scrunching his nose up at the taste of pure sugar. Bart had eaten nothing but half a tube of frosting and candy for the past hour and it was all Jaime could taste. He loved Bart, and he especially loved kissing Bart, but the sweetness overload was too much. He pulled away and wiped at his mouth.

Bart gave him a confused look.

“Sorry, Cariño,” Jaime apologized. “But you taste like pure sugar.”

Bart laughed a little, draping an arm around Jaime’s shoulders. “Maybe if you had some of the frosting too it wouldn’t be so bad?” He reached behind him with the arm that wasn’t around Jaime’s neck, grabbing a tube of icing and twisted the cap off with his thumb.

Jaime removed a hand from his boyfriend’s waist and leaned forward to grab the tube. The move pressed them chest to chest. “Don’t even think about it,” Jaime growled at him playfully. He leaned up to press a kiss to the side of Bart’s neck. Bart tipped his head, accommodating him.

Jaime lightly trailed kisses down Bart’s neck to the collar of his shirt, and then sucked lightly at the hollow of his throat, dragging a pleased hum from the speedster’s chest. He traced up the other side of Bart’s pale neck and then across his jawline, ending with a teasing peck to the corner of his mouth. Bart whined in response and threaded his fingers through Jaime’s short-cropped hair, dragging him in for a real kiss.

This time, Jaime was prepared for the sickening sweetness. He closed his eyes as his lips moved with Bart’s, slowly getting used to the flavor. Vanilla, masked by the bitter taste of artificial dyes, chocolate, sugar plum and peppermint all danced over Jaime’s tongue as Bart coaxed his mouth open, deepening the kiss. Pretty soon, Jaime couldn’t differentiate between the taste of Bart’s mouth and his own.

As they kissed, Jaime’s hands slowly wandered across his boyfriend’s muscular, yet trim torso, appreciating the faint outlines of Bart’s developing six-pack, his powerful hips, strong thighs, and taut ass. Bart’s own seemed content to trace over the broad lines of Jaime’s back and shoulders, fingertips teasing at the protrusion of the Scarab’s shell beneath his shirt.

[Jaime Reyes] He tried to block out the disembodied voice in his head. Khaji Da always seemed to butt in at the worst times. Jaime was more than content to continue making out with his boyfriend without the distraction.

[Jaime Reyes, the Christmas confections are burning.]

He whined into Bart’s mouth as the speedster’s hands trailed under the front of his shirt, thumbs teasing down his David lines until hooking in the waistband of his jeans. Reluctantly, he broke away from Bart with a gasp for breath.

“Later,” Jaime panted. “We gotta decorate the cookies first.”

“Is that a promise?” Bart asked with a leer.

Jaime grined back at him as he slipped a pair of oven mitts on. “Depends on whether you want a Silent Night or want to jingle some bells?” He raised a suggestive eyebrow.

Bart shook his head at the innuendo. Jaime was witty and sarcastic, and his favorite type of flirting tended to include plays on words. Exchanging dirty puns with Bart was just a natural part of their relationship.

Jaime set the tray of cookies down on the counter. Khaji Da had warned him, and the batch had come out a little browner than Jaime would have liked, but the frosting and candy would do a good enough job masking the taste, so he wasn’t too concerned. He grabbed two plates from the cupboard and placed them on the counter, one in front of himself and one in front of his boyfriend.

For the next hour, they decorated the cookies, spreading green icing on Christmas trees and wreaths and dotting gingerbread men with varying colored M&M eyes. While they worked, Jaime played Christmas music on his phone in the background, quietly enough that he could still talk to his boyfriend.

“Which one are you going to leave for Santa?” Jaime asked as he put the final touches on his last cookie. He’d already picked out a reindeer shaped treat he’d decorated to leave for the big man in red.

“Santa?” Bart scoffed. “There’s no way a dude in a sleigh loaded down with tons of presents and relying on the power of magic reindeer can make it around the world in a single night.”

“You can literally run at the speed of light,” Jaime pointed out.

Bart crossed his arms. “You mean to tell me that Grandpa Barry has been Santa this whole time?”

Jaime chuckled. “He does wear a red suit. Plus, it explains why he can eat the millions of Christmas cookies and leave only crumbs at each child’s house.”

Bart shook his head.

Jaime laughed and gave him a kiss to placate him. “Don’t ruin the magic for me, Cariño.”

Bart slumped down in his chair, but set aside a cookie nonetheless. “The only people qualified for magic are Dr. Fate and Zatanna. I don’t think an old, fat man who breaks into houses should be granted those same privledges.”

Jaime slugged Bart in the bicep playfully. “You’re such a Scrooge!” He complained laughingly.

“Us speedsters are men of science,” Bart defended with a shrug. He got up and took the plate with his and Jaime’s cookies for Santa over to set on the mantle above their fireplace. He took a second to admire the tree he and Jaime had decorated on the first of December and then returned to the kitchen to begin cleaning up the mess. As he passed by the counter, Jaime tugged him down into his lap with an insistent kiss.

Jaime smiled when he felt his boyfriend kiss back and adjusted his position so that Bart could properly straddle his lap.

“I think the Christmas packages arrived early,” Bart whispered into Jaime’s ear suggestively, as he ground down against him.

Jaime placed a kiss to the sensitive spot behind Bart’s ear before replying back, “Maybe we should take them to the bedroom to unwrap?”

Bart turned his head to give Jaime a quick kiss on the lips. “Sounds like a Merry Christmas to me.”

Jaime kissed his boyfriend one more time before standing up from his chair to carry Bart down the hallway to their bedroom. The mess in the kitchen could wait. Right now, all he wanted was to be a ho ho ho for the love of his life.

Merry Christmas @lifewhyyoudothisquestionmark! Hope you enjoy this 🎄🎁

I think you’re rubbing off on me with all of these jokes. My writing never used to be like this. Oh well. I’ll blame you and my terrible sleep schedule for this monstrosity 😂

[lminlovewithmycar]

Christmas with Queen - Roger Taylor

A/N: My first ever queen imagine, I hope you all enjoy! I also live in the states so sorry if my depiction of anything is wrong! 

Pairing: BohRap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Implied smut, cussing, alcohol use, I think that’s it?

Requests Are Open! I write anything Roger Taylor!

not my gif but wow i love one (1) man

The sound of wind whistling against the window of your London townhome woke you out of your sleep. You sighed deeply and cracked your eyes open, seeing snow falling outside from the crack in the curtains. You swung your legs over the side of your bed as quietly and gently as you could, as to not wake the sleeping, beautiful man that laid next to you, blond hair making a slight halo around his head. Fitting, because he looked nothing short of an angel as he slept. 

Christmas morning! your brain told you, and you smiled, planting your feet on the hardwood floor, standing yourself up and grabbing your silk robe to match your lacey nightgown from across the room. You slipped the robe on while tip-toeing your way into the kitchen. You began to brew some coffee and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard above you. Once it was done, you poured you and Rog’s coffee, just the way he liked and padded your way back to the bedroom. When you got to the room, you noticed Roger was in the process of sitting up and stretching out, a lazy smile on his face as he gazed at you. You climbed back into bed and handed him his coffee, feeling so lucky to have him by your side for Christmas. He and his bandmates had wrapped the American leg of their News of the World tour, and you got to be with him for a few months before he went back onto the road. You internally smiled, feeling the warmth of his presence next to you in bed.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he said, hand coming up to your face, caressing it and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” you grinned back, sipping your coffee. 

After a few minutes of just enjoying each other's company, you decided you wanted to exchange gifts before having to get ready for the day. You grabbed Rog by the hands and tried to pull him out of the bed, which was a fail, to say the least. After a few minutes of him making the biggest dramatic deal about having to get out of bed, you got him upright. You took his hand once more and led him into the living area, running to plug in the tree lights and turn on the tele to see The Scrooge, one of your favorite Christmas movies, playing. You hadn’t noticed, but Rog’s eyes were stuck on only you as he watched you sort through the mass of gifts under the tree. He loved seeing you light up like this, and even though this would be the third Christmas you had spent as a couple, he never got tired of watching you light up on Christmas morning. Every time, he would fall deeper in love with you - something he didn’t even know was possible.

After a little while and many gift wrappings later, you were at your final gift and so was Rog. You had gotten him a few shirts from his favorite little shop down the road, which he loved, some personalized drumsticks, a few other random gifts, and the one he was opening now: a necklace chain with a little letter on it, representing your first name initial. He smiled at it and leaned over to plant a kiss on your lips, sweet and chaste, and whispered an ‘i love you’. You smiled, unwrapping your final gift. So far you got some new records for your record player, a picture framed of you and Rog recently that a pap had taken, and some beautiful earrings. You opened the box and saw the most beautiful fur coat from Mary’s boutique. You smiled as you gazed at it, in awe of its beauty. You wrapped your arms around Rog’s neck and planted kisses all over his face as he laughed.

“Thank,” kiss. “You,” kiss. “So,” kiss. “Fucking,” kiss. “Much.”

“Don’t thank me, I love seeing you happy and spoiling you to death, so get used to it,” he grinned back at you. 

Most people have only seen Roger as the label that tabloids slap on him: wild and groupie-crazy drummer boy in a rock band. Sure he was a rock star, but he was also the most heartfelt and soft-hearted boy you have ever met. Many people don’t see the Roger that you see: the one that cries when he gets stressed, the one that makes passionate love to you rather than just a quick shag, or the one that wears your initial around his neck so that he can keep you close to his heart at all times. He may be labeled as a crazy rock star, but he is your crazy rock star, and neither of you would have it any other way. 

You make your way back to the bedroom while Rog starts to make some breakfast. You decide, knowing you will have to leave soon to your mum’s house, to get ready. You put on a pair of red pants with a matching red top and belt, throwing the fur coat onto the bed and laying out your wedged heels. As you brushed through your hair, you hear Rog should that the pancakes are ready and you add finishing touches to your makeup, exiting the bathroom, slipping on your wedges and coat, and entering into the kitchen. The smell of pancaked hangs in the air as Rog nearly chokes on his food when he sees you.

“You look gorgeous,” he babbles, food still in his mouth. You giggle at him.

“Why thank you.”

After eating, Rog goes to get one of his new shirts on with some trousers. When he returns a few minutes later as you wash the dishes, you smile and walk over to him and run your hand down his gorgeous torso. The shirt fit him just right and he looked absolutely beautiful.

“Be careful now, don’t get too handsy or we’ll be late to your mum’s,” he smirks, hands pushing your hair back as he rests them on the sides of your neck, thumbs just centimeters away from your lips.

“Mm, that sounds so tempting, though,” you sigh, latching around the back of his neck, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back and it instantly becomes heated. You shove your hands into his golden waves, wrapping them around your fingers and tugging, earning a moan from him. His hands travel down to your ass, gripping it and pulling you closer to him as you feel his already-hard-on brush against your thigh. Just as quickly as things escalated, though, they halted and Rog pulled away. 

“Later,” he whispers against your lips.

“’Later’ is all the way at night, God knows how late,” you whine. “Come on, we’ll just tell my mum we had car trouble.”

Roger was never the man to turn down a chance to get with you, but he knew how anal your mother was about timing, and he was not going to ruin Christmas for you. Not today. Today is special.

“You know we can’t to that,” he grabs onto your hands and squeezes them in affirmation. “Later.”

The car ride out to your mother’s home out in the countryside just in the outskirts of London was filled with music from a radio station that you and Roger loved to blast. You sang gently along to Hotel California by the Eagles as the car pulled into the driveway of your family home. Roger parked the car and took in a deep breath.

Another side the fans don’t see - the fact that after three years as your boyfriend, Roger still gets a tad bit nervous talking to your parents. They don’t really understand the world of rock and roll that you two live in, but they try their best to. All Roger cares about around your family is making sure that he impresses them without sounding like a cocky rockstar. You knew your parent’s, though, and they absolutely adored Rog. They constantly insist that he was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

You grab his hand and smile at him, and it tells him everything he needs to know to calm down. He climbs out of the car, rushing to your side so that he can open the door for you. You take his hand and stand up out of the car and you two walk up the steps, hand in hand, and you knock on the door.

“Y/N!!” your younger sister cries as she flings open the door. You embrace her in a hug and giggle as she swings you side to side. She pulls away from you and turns to Roger and she embraces him into a much less energetic hug.

“Hello, it’s nice to see you,” Roger smiles. 

Your sister leads the two of you into the house where your entire - entire - family is. A chorus of “Y/N!”’s echoes through the room. You make your way around to each family member, hugging and greeting each one with smiles as Roger follows you and shakes many hands and hugs a few. Especially your aunt, she demanded a hug from him always. She always announces to him that she is a hugger and Roger, being the amazing and sweet man he is, will just smile and embrace her.

You sat with the family for a while, knowing you would only stay for a little bit because Rog’s family was a bit of a drive. 

“So, Roger, how’s your music group?” your dad asked, not quite grasping the concept of a band as big as Queen.

“We’re in the middle of a tour right now, actually. I got to catch a break for the holidays thankfully, but we’re better than ever. And I have a beautiful woman by my side to experience it with me, what more could I want really?” he smiles and nearly everyone coos an ‘awe’. 

“A ring, maybe?” Your mom blurts out when the room goes quiet. You gasp and hiss, “mum!” and you feel your cheeks turn red.

You and Roger had talked about marriage all the time, of course, but for your mother to make a comment like that made you worry that it was gonna put stress on you and Roger’s relationship to rush into marriage. Your mom has always pushed you to marry Roger, but with touring and his band really taking off, you just assumed there wasn’t enough time for marriage. Your mom understood that, so you thought.

“You’re not wrong, ma’am. We’ll see,” Roger responded, squeezing your hand.

The rest of the day zips by pretty fast. After a little while of lunch, gift exchanges, and a few hugs and kisses from your mum, dad, and family later, you were off to Rog’s family. Considering it was quite small, Rog’s family’s Christmas was a lot more mellow. You played some soccer out back with the younger side of the family and also had a very charming chat with Roger’s mum about Rog as a child. She brought out the baby books - for the third year in a row - and you lovingly stared at each picture as you did every year. When you and Rog noticed the sun starting to set, you headed off, deciding it was time for the most exciting part of the whole day: Freddie’s with the band.

When you arrived at his home, you were not even surprised to see Freddie throw his arms up into the air as he strutted outside his door, wearing bright red pants with a dazzling, sparkly silver shirt, topping it off with an obnoxiously sparkly Santa hat.

“It’s Christmas, darlings!” he welcomed you two, kissing you on the cheek and wrapping an arm around Roger’s shoulders. You all walked into Freddie’s insanely decorated living room, gawking at his giant Christmas tree. You greeted each of the band mates. You hugged Brian and complemented his top, hugging his date as well. You throw your arms around Deaky, greeting him happily. He laughs and tells you a hello and you hug his date as well. You finally walk up to Mary, one of your best friends for the longest time. She introduced you to Roger so you had a lot to thank her for. You gave her a tight hug and started a conversation with her about her new promotion at her boutique. After greeting everyone, Fred quiets the boys down to make an announcement to the eight of you.

“Since Mr. Taylor and Mrs. Y/N finally decided to show up, late probably due to shagging or some shenanigans, we can finally eat!” 

You all gather around Fred’s large dining table, but before you could dig in, Fred holds up his bottle of overpriced champagne, popping it, earning a cheer from everyone. He pours each person a glass and you all toast to being able to spend Christmas together. You then proceed to dig into your Christmas meal, knowing that if Mary cooked, it would be amazing. 

After a few more drinks into the night, Rog disappears into the kitchen for some reason you didn’t know. You were pretty tired at this point, so you just laid your head back into the sofa. Mary eventually appears from the kitchen followed by Roger announces that everyone should probably order a taxi and leave now so that the boys can rest up for an interview tomorrow. You just figured she wanted the house alone with Freddie, so you didn’t question it. The thought of Roger’s voice in your ear whispering ‘later’, was still fresh in your mind, so you stood up quickly, walking to go help Rog gather all the gifts that you two had gotten from the boys. You told everyone goodbye and saw Brian and Deacy get into their taxis. Roger insisted that he only had a glass of champagne so he would be okay to drive. You knew he was okay, so you climbed into the car and began to head home.

“Babe, I really want to drive through the city and see all the pretty lights,” Roger asked, sounding like a little child. You smiled, taken by surprise at his question.

“Well, let's do it then,” you grin, grabbing his hand as he took the extremely long way home. You didn’t mind.

After about an hour of detours, you finally arrived home. Roger was somewhat eager to get out of the car and he rushed to your side, your feet crunching in the snow as you stood up. Before you walked up the steps to your house, Roger grabbed both of your hands so that you were face to face with him.

The wind lightly gusted around and through the two of you and snow lightly fell in your hair, sticking to your face as well.

“Y/N, I want you to know how much I love you before we walk into the house,” he states, his voice shaking just a little bit.

“Rog, what’s going on?” you question, concern in your face. Rather than answering you, he just leads you by the hand up your steps and to the door. Roger reaches for the handle and pushes the door open for you.

Walking inside your house, the first thing you notice is all the little tea candles, making a path through the foyer into the main room, which was practically cleared out. Mary, Deacy, and Deacy and Brian’s girls were holding little candles at the entrance to the room. You then noticed the rose petals that were lining the floor. You see Brian sitting on a bench and playing his guitar and Freddie at the piano, playing along with Brian. You immediately recognize the tune to Love of My Life, and Freddie chimes in with the chorus to the song, Roger’s hand still gripping yours. Just as Freddie sings his last note to the song, you feel a tear fall onto your cheek. It goes quiet for just a second before Roger’s hand lets go of yours. You turn to him, his beautiful face illuminated by the candles. He runs his hand on the side of your face lovingly, blue eyes staring deep into yours. You notice that he, too, is tearing up just a little.

“Y/N, I remember the first ever time I saw your face. You were with Mary and she introduced you to me after a show downtown. I remember you looked at me with the most beautiful million dollar smile I have ever seen in my entire life and twisted a piece of hair in front of your ear, and you just simply said your name and shook my hand. I knew all the way then three years ago that I never wanted to let you go. Something about the way you laughed, twirled your hair, dance to your favorite song, something about the way you just live freely makes me want to hold your hand and just kiss you forever. That one time we had a show at a pub here just before you and I had just started living together, I got absolutely piss drunk, and you came and picked me up in the middle of the night at some random bar without hesitation. I remember waking up next to you the next day for the first time. Later that day, I marched myself to the nearest ring store and started looking. I knew then that I wanted to be with you forever. And those feelings are still fresh on my mind constantly. I want to wake up to you every morning. I want to always be able to come home to you after a long day and just make the most passionate love we’ve ever made. Hell, I want to grow old and rock back and forth on a rocking chair one day. And even then, I’ll still think I’m the luckiest man in the world. And especially, I want to have more moments like these with you. Moments where I can feel your heart beat for me and I can look in your eyes and see the stars. Y/F/N,” Roger breathes, tears streaming down his face as he gets down on his knee, opening the little velvet box. “Will you marry me?”

You, uncontrollably sobbing at this point, choke out a “Yes” and he jumps up, spinning you around, cheering and crying at the same time. You hear everyone around you clapping and cheering. When he sets you down, he slips the ring on your finger, and your jaw hits the floor. The ring is the biggest rock of a ring you’ve ever seen. 

“I love you so much, Mrs. Taylor,” he whispers to you before kissing you passionately on the lips. 

“How did you all do this?” you squeal, turning to your friends.

“You really believed Roger when he wanted to ‘take the long way home’?” John laughed.

“Yeah, if I’m correct, normally Roger would’ve sped to get home so he could get you into bed and-” You slapped Freddie’s shoulder before he could finish that sentence.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. God help us all. Two divas and wedding planning,” Brian fake-dramatically stated. Rog shushed him with a slight chuckle.

“Well, Freddie was right. I wanna have some alone time with my fiance, so thank you all, but would you mind leaving?” Roger winked. Everyone was out of that house in one minute flat.

You pecked Roger and squealed as he unexpectedly picked you up, your legs around his torso, arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he commented.

“I love you too, Roger Meddows Taylor.”

And with that, he carried you to the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him, finally getting to what he promised you earlier.

Requests are open - I write Roger Taylor fics!!

[nodesiretogrowup]

here’s my ships via @gotpropane-questionmark’s shipping chart (btw, THANK YOU for making this. I hope you don’t mind that I added my own category. none of the others really fit how I felt about those ships). sorry it looks so sloppy, I have issues w/ my motor skills

explanation below, because I go slightly crazy when it comes to character relationships (platonic or romantic)

A lot of the otps are because I feel like those characters only love themselves. the Jim/Negaduck one is for that reason.

My only real otps for the show are Goldie/Scrooge (lovers through time and space) and Panchito/Jose (because preexisting history from other media)

I think Donald, of all people, is the character I have the most ships for, and that’s EXCLUDING characters that haven’t shown up yet (Daisy, Goofy, and Mickey if they can work something out). Maybe it’s because I feel like he NEEDS the most love.

Due to them already having history, I already shipped him and his band mates before they debuted proper (but only if it’s all three of them together)

Since Storkules ADORES Donald, I had to ship them

Launchpad and Donald would be super cute together and Donald has a picture of the two of them in his houseboat, among his pics of the boys

Fenton and Donald would be ADORABLE. Fenton’s motormouth and Donald’s little dances-cute

Donald and Drake would be cute single dads, trying to raise their kids while falling in love

I don’t really have a reason behind Gabby and Donald, I just think it’s neat

Him and Penumbra would be fun

I feel like him and Magica would be hilarious. Plus, Lena sort of looks similar to grunge Donald

Donald/D’jinn has a simple explanation-D’jinn is HOT

I think Launchpad is next in number of ships I have for him (excluding his exes. I kind of group them together anyway). Afterall, he is everyone’s friend ;3

Confession-I never really shipped Drakepad in the 91 series. The balance of power was off to me (since Drake seemed to be older than Launchpad) and I was a kid at the time so I really didn’t ship anything. However, I ADORE reboot Drakepad. Both are dorks who share the same interest, both are around the same age this time (with Launchpad being the older of the two), and both are adorkable sweethearts. I would prefer it to be romantic, but friendship is ok.

Delpad started simple-their both pilots. But once the two finally met, they had a fun dynamic that I would love to see played with and explored (even if the two just become friends, though I’d like it to be romantic)

Donpad I already explained above

Fentonpad is just cute. The awkward flirt and Mr. Smooth-a good pairing

Gabby/Launchpad-she’s a badass and he’s a sweetheart. And one of Launchpad’s exes was a spy sooo

Mama Cabra and him is mainly to have Launchpad say that he’s Fenton’s new dad

Launchpad/Magica is even simpler-he BODY SLAMMED her in the season 1 finale. CLEARLY that would lead to true love lol

Fenton is my next most shipped character, I think. I love nerds, so of course I ship him a lot.

Him and Gandra are one of my prefered ships for Fenton. I dig the dating Catwoman vibe they have and having the bad girl with the good guy

Him and Drake would be fun and cute, especially when you add in the secret identities.

See above for Launchpad and Donald

He and Ferthy are cute science boys, with Ferthy being slightly more feral than Fenton.

Even though Drake literally JUST showed up, I already have a few ships for him (excluding him and Morgana, who hasn’t shown up yet but we a couple in 91 DW)

I already explained Drakepad, Donald/Drake, and Fenton/Drake

Della/Drake is kind of a pet ship of mine (and it usually involves Launchpad to make an ot3). My headcanon is Della thinks superheroes are lame compared to her family and the adventures they’ve gone on. Drake will not stand for such slander, leading to a slap slap kiss type of relationship.

I think I might have an almost even ratio of m/f:f/f ships

See above for Launchpad and Drake

Magica/Della was a popular ship when the show started and I still like it

Seline/Della-Moon girlfriends

Penumbra/Della-Planet Moon girlfriends

Don Karnage/Della-totally happened that one time

Ferthy

Already explained him and Fenton

Him and D’jinn-Boy toy

Magica

See above for Donald, Launchpad, and Della

I really like her and Gladstone together. The thing they had in the comics was cute.

Her and Negaduck-EVIL LOVE

Misc

Mama Cabra and Roxanne would be interesting, especially if she learns Fenton is Gizmoduck and hates Roxanne for trying to frame her baby in a negative light.

Owlson/Roxanne-I just think they’re cute

D’jinn/Don Karnage-totally happened once

Boorswan/Negaduck-idk, maybe Negs has something that Boorswan wants/needs

Negaduck/Beaks-attention whores UNTIE

Quackfaster/Von Drake-happened in a dream once

Megavolt 91/Megavolt 19-self explanatory

Brotps

My 4 bois together (Donald, Launchpad, Fenton, Drake)

The McDuck/Duck family-THESE DUCKS DON’T BACK DOWN

Storkules and Launchpad-pure, good-hearted men

Goldie and Duckworth-he Shipped Scrooge/Goldie HARD and the two became besties

Scrooge and Von Drake-I just like the idea of them being bros

NOtps

Mark Beaks is a racist ass-shat, so a big ol’ NO to him with Fenton. He also STEALS McDuck tech, so no on him and Gyro

Jim/Negaduck tried to MURDER Drake, so that’s a no-go. And he tried to get Launchpad to do the wrong thing so no.

Lunaris is a colossal dick who has at this point framed Della (so no), imprisoned Donald (nope), and played Penumbra to make sure his scheme went according to plan (BIGGEST NO). And we don’t even know what he plans on doing to Earth once he gets here.

[doctormctiddy]

merry christmas, frens!!

(listen, i know its still november. but you cant stop me.)

anyway, this is a fic i found buried in my drafts that i started writing.... last year? And i finally finished it. So yay!

Brief summary: Julian, who doesn’t celebrate Christmas, asks Gloria, who does, if she has any Christmas stories to share, as he had previously done with her. Though she has no memories to tell stories of, she does have one story that she can show off using her magic...

Enjoy! ♥

( A Christmas Carol belongs to Charles Dickens. )

It’s a simple cold night in Vesuvia, and while there’s no snow to be accounted for, the chill that rattles those that step outside is unmistakable. Thankfully, the warm fire roaring in the corner and the blanket over top of her and Julian kept her warm enough that Gloria forgot about the cold. The comforting smell of snickerdoodles lingered on him, and she was glad for the silence.

Until Julian moved his head to speak.

“Gloria,” he begins, “I don’t believe I’ve ever asked you, but…” she raises her head from his chest to meet his gaze, and suddenly his words fumble, face flushing red, “Um… do you have any favourite Christmas stories?”

Gloria cocks an eyebrow. “Christmas stories?”

“You know, like…. stories with your family from around the holidays,” he continues, and the corner of her lips lift in a smirk.

“Oh, like your story of how you set your cape on fire lighting the menorah with Portia?”

“Of course you remember that story,” he chides, rubbing her head, and she bursts into giggles… and then she falls silent, biting her lip in thought.

“Well…. I mean….” she hums, scrunching her face, “I don’t remember my family, and I can’t think of anything involving Asra…. but I do know a story, related to Christmas.” Scooting closer to his warmth, she lifts her arms from the blanket. “If you wanna hear it, that is.”

His soft smile told her the answer to that.

Julian always loved when she told stories, and tonight was no exception. Gloria’s face broke into a grin, leaning up to give him a quick kiss before returning her attention to her arms.

“This is a story of a man, who’s ideals were completely changed over the course of one Christmas,” she begins, “But this isn’t your typical Christmas story.”

“Why not?” Julian asks, watching sparkling, golden light fall from her fingertips.

Gloria smirks. “Because it involves ghosts.”

His eye widens as the light starts to take shape into what he assumes is the main character of the tale. A hobbly old man, donning a top hat and cane, wearing a flowing coat, barely five inches tall, glowers at Julian’s close gaze, before lifting his cane and whacking the doctor’s beaked nose with it.

“Humbug!” he squeaks, shaking his cane. Julian rubs his nose, retracting his face, and Gloria giggles.

“Hush now, Ebenezer,” she chides him, and the figure puts his hands on his hips, “Julian, darling, be careful with him.”

“He should be careful with me,” the doctor responds with a frown, and Gloria giggles again in response.

“Anyway… Julian, Ebenezer Scrooge. Mr. Scrooge, Julian Devorak. Now, be a good old man.” Little Scrooge’s frown deepens, and Gloria waves her hand again, setting the scene. More golden light shapes and forms, until Julian is looking out over a bustling street, stuffed with brick buildings and snow, decorated from head to foot in Christmas-y glory.

“We start in a northern town, on a little island known for its finery, many years ago,” Gloria begins, “It’s Christmastime, and the air is filled with excitement. People are merry, the shoppers bustle through the town, others come home to their families…” and she starts laughing, seeing a small group of carolers made of gold light start singing something in Latin, “and songs fill the street from every corner!”

“It’s beautiful, dear,” Julian smiles, turning his head to look at her, “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“Thanks, Julie.” With a wink, however, she added, “but you’re not getting a kiss until after the story is done. Helps me focus.” When he gives her a joking pout, she lightly punches his arm and returns her attention to the scene, waving her hand again. The street whirls around in a shower of sparkling light, until it shows the inside of a counting house. Little Scrooge sits hunched over a desk, counting coins in tiny golden towers, while another little person sits at a smaller desk, furiously scribbling away with his quill. With a start, he turns and waves at Gloria and Julian, who wave back, before Scrooge snaps.

“Cratchit!” says the old miser in a high pitched, nasally voice. Cratchit, shoulders slumping, returns to his scribbling.

“Mr. Scrooge is the embodiment of all things anti-Christmas,” Gloria continues, “the absolute worst of them all. Hates everything to have to do with the season.”

“Why?”

“No one knows for sure. However, even he keeps Christmas in some happy remark, for it was on this very day, seven years ago, that his former business partner, Jacob Marley, died and left him the counting house. More money for him to have, you see. And Bob Cratchit is someone who works for him- a good man, working to earn a meager salary to support his family.”

Julian watches the door to Scrooge’s counting house open, and a younger man enters, jovial in his high pitched voice.

“Scrooge’s nephew Fred,” his love explains, “nearly the complete opposite, invites Scrooge to Christmas dinner. The miser declines,” Scrooge does so, “calling Christmas a-”

“HUMBUG!” Scrooge squeaks out again as Fred exits the store. Gloria gestures to him.

“... Well, you know.”

Julian listens in as two more men, seeking donations for the poor, enter the shop, only to be dismissed in a similar fashion by Scrooge, before a small bell chimes. Cratchit and Scrooge rise, and start to leave, as Gloria changes the scene again.

“It’s Christmas eve, you see,” she explains again as the light whirls up and around, “one of the few nights that Cratchit can take off of from his job a little early. But Scrooge still wants him there the next day, bright and early, like normal, despite the Christmas festivities.”

“What an ass.” Julian interjects.

“I know!” she agrees.

Finally, it settles on Scrooge sitting in his bedroom, dressed in nightclothes, eating. Before taking another bite of what Julian assumed was soup, the old man looks up and frowns at the pair.

“Young love,” he chides, “bah! You both should be doing something useful with your lives!”

“Can I please squash him?” Julian begs with a wince, “He’s starting to sound like Lucio…”

“No, you are not squashing Scrooge!” Gloria reprimands, watching the small man suddenly bolt behind his wingback chair. “Look at that, you spooked him!”

“It wasn’t old bird beak over there!” Scrooge calls, before pointing a gnarled finger at the now shaking door in his room. The magician jumps suddenly.

“Right, right! Anyway, it was Christmas Eve, nearing closer and closer to midnight, and Scrooge was about to have a visitor.” Julian watched her grin turn nearly evil, and he had to squish down the desire to kiss her right then and there. “A visitor of the supernatural kind.”

Suddenly there was a high pitched wail from behind him, and Julian turned his head sharply, only to duck as a small golden specter flew right for his head, chains rattling and boxes dragging behind him.

“Whoa!”

Gloria burst into laughter as the ghost floated around above the set, only pausing for a jolted moment to wave at her. “Hello Mr. Marley. Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, Miss Morgenstern!” And then he continued on his wailing journey, before bursting through Scrooge’s bedroom door.

“That’s Marley?” Julian asked, raising his head.

“Well, he has been dead for seven years at this point.” She says with a shrug of her shoulders. Turning back to the story, she goes on, “Marley arrived from beyond the grave to warn Scrooge about his otherworldly fate. If Scrooge didn’t change his ways, he would be doomed to eternity to be just like Marley- covered in chains and boxes as a wandering spirit.”

“I wear the chain I forged in life!” Marley calls, “Do you know the weight and length of the chain you bear, Ebenezer?”

“And with that, Marley says that he will send three spirits to help Scrooge on his journey of self discovery. But first, he has to be a dramatic little bugger about it.”

Marley looks up at her first, hopeful, and Scrooge follows, eyes wide with fear.

“May I?” Jacob asks, and Gloria nods.

“Julie, you may want to duck.”

“Again?” The doctor asks, “Not more ghosts-”

Suddenly Marley wails again, and several more spirits made of Gloria’s golden light- all wearing chains, each different in appearance, come from behind, and Julian yells, ducking down, before the spirits swirl around him. A little lady ghost even whacked his nose with a mirror on her chain, before floating over to Gloria.

“You really can pick ‘em!” She says, before floating off to the set. And suddenly, Julian laughs, seeing an all too familiar tiny ghost floating around, wrapped up in chains, bearing a false, shimmering golden left arm.

“They’ll never survive without me!” cries tiny Ghost Lucio, rolling around from his wrapped up chains. “They’ll never forget me! Untie me!”

“Never on your life,” says another gentleman ghost who floats by, “you’re awfully rude.”

Lucio inchworms down to the set, and the other ghosts, with Marley in tow, begin to spiral around Scrooge, who screams and makes a break for it, diving into his bed- and with a glittering golden poof, they’re gone.

“And the bell tolls one,” Gloria says, satirically sollem. Julian snorts, watching little Scrooge shake in his bed. The candle on the table in front of them suddenly started to glow and mold, until, emerging from the wax, came a spirit in what appeared to be a ballet costume of some kind. They were thin, with curly hair that hung just below their ears, with a halo of gold on their head. More lit candles adorned this halo, and three lit candles were attached to each of their arms. As they twirled around, more wax dripped from the edge of their tutu. Scarily wide eyes glowed like open flames, but the spirit themself seemed kind. With a noise akin to bells chiming, they floated up between the pair of lovers, bowing gracefully.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past,” they said, rising. “Apologies if I startled you.”

“No need,” Gloria says, “It’s good to see you again, Past.”

“This isn’t Asra…” They realize suddenly, floating closer to Julian, who blinks owlishly. “Who are you?”

“J-Julian.” He responds, going cross eyed to see the little ghost.

“My boyfriend,” Gloria whispers excitedly, and as Julian blushes, Past’s aura glows a bit brighter.

“In that case, I simply must put on a good show!”

As they float away towards Scrooge, Julian looks back at Gloria. “D-did you just call me…”

“Yes,” she reaches up to kiss his reddening cheeks, “because it’s true.”

“Darling, if you do that again, I don’t think I’ll be able to listen to the rest of the story…”

“Alright, I’ll stop the story, if it’s what you want.”

“No, keep going. I want to find out what happens. I… I can wait.”

“Good choice!” exclaims Past, and Julian jumps, “I don’t want to go away yet! I just got here!”

“Get on with it!” Scrooge interjects from under his bedcovers, and Gloria snorts, rolling her eyes and turning back to the set.

“My apologies. Anyway…. As the bell tolled one, the Ghost of Christmas Past,” said ghost did a sudden, perfect pirouette, “appeared in Scrooge’s bedroom, rousing him from the meager amount of sleep he had managed to achieve.”

“Take my hand,” Past said, offering one wax coated hand to Scrooge, who, reluctantly, grabbed it. With a giggle from the ghost and a cry of fear from the old man, they took to the sky, and Gloria waved her hand again, watching the scene change. The two flew around the shop, nearly running into everything. Even with Scrooge on their hand, Past managed to perform a little ballet routine near perfectly, with Scrooge’s long, old legs stumbling behind. Julian laughed at the display, before the scene set in front of them again. And with each word Gloria spoke, the characters complied, and the scene changed- much like a little theatre.

“To help Scrooge grow in his character, they visited past Christmases- his past Christmases, in fact. Scrooge had been neglected as a child, and had a little sister, who died at a young age, but not before she had a son.”

“Then that Fred fellow was her son, I take it.”

“Yep.” A small pause to wink at him for getting the answer right, “And then, years later, Scrooge became apprenticed by a man named Fezziwig, who was a jovial old chap, and at one of his parties… he fell in love.”

The scene set before them, however, was of a high spirited party. A rotund man spun what Julian assumed was his wife around, and the audience clapped and cheered as they danced. A mad fiddler worked his bow strings furiously with a small band, and people laughed and drank.

“You want to dance, Julian?” Gloria asked suddenly, and he laughed.

“We wouldn’t fit!”

“Yes, but we can still hear the music.” Suddenly grabbing his arm, she pleaded, “Please, Ilya?”

Oh God, not the Ilya card. She always pulled that to weaken his resolve, and he was always weak to it… of course, the cries from the small party crowd of “Dance wit her, man!” “C’mon, y’ old haggard!” “Le’s see if them long legs o’ yers are good fer more than bein’ tall!” weren’t helping either, and finally, he sighed.

“Alright, alright.”

Gloria brightened, giggling and rising from the blanket they had engulfed themselves in, and Julian followed. He heard Fezziwig clap his hands, and the little band started their tune up again. With a sudden devilish grin, he grabbed Gloria by the hand, pulling her in close and twirling her around. The magician squealed and laughed, her feet dangling at his shins as he lifted her, one arm around his waist and the other in his hand. The little crowd cheered, and suddenly between the taller two floated Christmas Past and Scrooge, who were dancing on their own- Past more enthusiastically than the old miser, who was once again forced to stumble behind, shouting bloody murder at the top of his lungs. They both laughed, dancing along to the small band’s song, until it began to slow, and so did their dance, until it stopped, and they both stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes. Julian moved first, laying his lips over hers, his hand sliding to hold her face, and Gloria’s other hand moved to hug his waist.

“No mistletoe required, huh?” she laughs when he pulls away, and he rubs their noses together.

“It never is, my darling.”

With a dreamy sigh, she regrettably slipped out of his arms, sliding down to hold his hands. “C’mon. Before they all start yelling at me to get on with it again.”

As the two settled back on the couch, Julian was shocked to find a dizzy Scrooge leaning on Christmas past, watching a different scene completely unfold.

“I release you, Ebenezer.” said the girl sitting in front of the desk of the young Scrooge. And with a whirl of her dress, she was gone.

“Oh… right.” Gloria clears her throat, settling the blanket back on top of them. “Ebenezer had managed to fall in love, but as the years waned on from that, money became more important. Eventually, money became the only thing that mattered to him anymore.”

“I don’t wish to see more of this!” Old Scrooge called out, and with a sad look, Past snapped their fingers, taking to the sky again. As the scene set back to Scrooge’s bedroom, the ghost floated up to the couple, bowing again.

“You did beautifully, Past.” Gloria praised, and Julian swore he saw them blush at the compliment.

“Yes, indeed,” he added suddenly, “it was a lovely performance.”

“Thank you both, very much!” And with a wave goodbye, they burst into flame, vanishing. The clock stuck again, two this time.

“And so the clock strikes two,” Julian speaks again, with the funny solemnity of Gloria earlier. She giggles.

“Don’t steal my job along with my heart, darling!”

Suddenly, Scrooge’s room expanded, and fading into view was a mound of food. Christmas carols played on a small orchestra rang out, and a booming laugh, though still high in pitch, echoed through the set. A man came into view, wearing a green robe, and bearing an immeasurably long amount of ginger hair, which floated up around his head like a halo. A single candle floated in the middle of it, and holly decorated the entire ponytail. He had a cheerful, lined face, and his robe reminded the doctor of the white shirt he was currently donning.

“A bit of a low cut for a ghost, is it not?” Julian teased, and Gloria grinned.

“I can’t help what he wears.” They watched the spirit grab a staff of oak wood and garland, where a single emerald glowed at the top, and she waved. “Hello Christmas Present!” “Merry Christmas, Miss Morgenstern!” He called, waving back. “Good to see you again!”

“Good to see you too!”

Scrooge entered the room then, and Gloria began the narration.

“The Ghost of Christmas present,” she said, “there’s a new one every year, supposedly, but this is the one that always works with me. To help Scrooge better himself, he takes the man around to Christmases currently happening.”

“Touch my robe,” the spirit said to Scrooge, and the old man does. Much like they had with Christmas Past, the two rose into the air as the set spun around, before it settled on a little house, hardly bigger than the main room of Asra’s shop.

“Oh!” Julian exclaimed as Scrooge and Present settled into the set, and more characters started appearing. “Isn’t that Cratchit?”

“Yea! This is his house,” Gloria explained, “And this is his family.” She leaned in suddenly, cupping a hand over his ear and whispering, “And you see that tiny kid with the crutch? That’s Tiny Tim. He’s important, so pay attention.” As she drew away, Julian nodded vigorously.

“You have my word.”

“Great.” Cracking her knuckles, she settled into the story again. “Bob Cratchit’s family isn’t the best off, Scrooge notices first. And with a little help from Christmas Present, he realizes that poor Tiny Tim is destined to die if he doesn’t get the help he needs.”

“I see an empty chair by the fire,” speaks Christmas Present solemnly, “and a small crutch, carefully preserved.”

Suddenly Julian whips around to Gloria, who furrows her brows, “He doesn’t die, does he?”

“Hush, love! You’ll find out.” With a wiggle of her fingers, the set changes again. “The Christmas party of Fred, where they catch the household making fun of Scrooge. Not much happens here, only Scrooge realizing he could’ve been a better Uncle. And then….”

Another set change, and Christmas Present, once jolly, now looms over Scrooge, melancholy. Scrooge watches, horrified, as two small, scraggly children emerge from Present’s robe.

“Are they yours?” he asks, fearful and wide eyed.

“They are mans,” says the spirit, “this boy is ignorance, and this girl is want. Beware them both, but especially the boy.”

“.... Now I can see where this wouldn’t be considered a Christmas story,” Julian says, squinting down at the kids. Ignorance takes a swipe at him, and he keens, scrambling back to Gloria.

“I told you to be careful, Jules.”

“I’m just curious…”

Suddenly the two children lept at Scrooge, and the scene goes black for a moment- and rises, seeing Scrooge cowering alone, arms over his face, as the clock strikes three. The man slowly lowers them, before looking up behind him. Julian and Gloria look up too, and on a shadowy part of the wall, out melts a black, hooded finger, surrounded by black smoke… though, less intimidating, as they were about seven inches tall. Gloria grips Julian’s arm excitedly as the spirit descends upon the stage.

“This is my favourite part,” she whispers to him, as the Ghost cranes their head to up the couple. “Hi Christmas Future! Good to see you haven’t changed.”

There was a beat, and the Ghost raised a single skeletal hand, waving slightly, before turning their attention back to Scrooge.

“The Ghost of Christmas Future, or Christmas Yet To Come,” Gloria narrates again, hand never leaving Julian’s arm, “The final spirit of the night, here to show Scrooge the consequences of his current actions. This is the real climatic part of the story, just you wait.”

Rather than taking to the air, Christmas Future raises a single, boney hand, and points to the other side of the scene, which melts away, golden light turning into black and white.

“The Ghost shows Scrooge visions of uncaring gentlemen talking about the death of someone supposedly important,” Gloria continues, “Along with a joyous Fred, the Cratchits saddened by the death of Tiny Tim-” Julian gasps, bringing a hand over his mouth, and she squeezes his arm, “and Scrooge’s old maid selling off things to a pawnbroker. Along with… something else.”

The scene is completely black and white now, and the only thing on it, aside from Scrooge and Future, is a gravestone.

“That’s not…”

“It’s not Tiny Tim.”

“It can’t be… does that have Scrooge’s name on it?” Julian’s uncovered eye widens, and Scrooge suddenly cries out, lamenting to the Ghost before him.

“Scrooge begs to change, pleads with the Ghost. Christmas Future only points intensely at the grave as Scrooge grovels, until suddenly, as Scrooge falls into the grave….”

The scene swirls in a black shadow, until Gloria’s golden light takes over again- and there was Scrooge, tangled on his bed in the sheets, completely alive.

“... He awakes in his room, a changed man.”

Little Scrooge leaps up suddenly, dancing around his room and throwing on his coat and hat over his sleepwear, and running off. Gloria grins.

“And he really did change, you know,” she finishes, as the entire cast takes to the scene, “helping Tiny Tim being one of the first things he ever did on his changed path.”

The cast starts to bow, and Julian claps at them all, and with some final waves, the scene and characters vanish completely.

“What a lovely story,” Julian finally turns to face her, and she blushes.

“I know it’s not what you had in mind, but…”

Without hesitation, he leans in, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her lips to his, a pleading noise echoing from the back of his throat. She retaliates, reaching up to cup his face. After several kisses, he finally pulls away, touching their foreheads together.

“Sorry… I couldn’t wait,” comes his sheepish grin, “But…. you don’t need to worry. It was perfect. It showed what Christmas means to you, much like what Hanukkah meant to me whenever I told you my stories. And I couldn’t be happier, my darling.”

“Thank you, Ilya.”

[intensitystoner]

Scribble(s) continuing The heart of Anthony kinda Frostiron ~ 3,500 words ~ T for drinkin' and language (ignores Endgame)

– You build your walls around me –

The partially powered-up Tower isn’t secluded from old friends any more. It’s still a fort against the world, mostly SHIELD that’s looking for the god of mischief, former captive and a threat to the planet. Tony has offered him a hideout, a sheer professional payback for dragging him up, and a getback at the others for disturbing his private grief. He hasn’t set or asked about the length of the sorcerer’s stay, because he isn’t thinking in futures; in all honesty, he’s entirely indifferent towards anything in the world, including the battles going on outside. His primary activity is an on-going competition with the trickster: seeking to get drunk while constantly being hindered at it by his opponent. About twice after the reunion, Loki found the billionaire soaked in one of the rooms. Then he adapted, and now no more secret supplies of booze are left.

Currently, soberness is the second (or third) greatest torment factor in Tony’s life. The first is the vehement reaction of his system when he tries delving into work. But he doesn’t speak about that, his reluctance to cooperate appears as recovery sass, in Natasha’s wording. So the guys let it go for now with occasional attempts at persuading him. Only the remaining Avengers know about Loki’s presence – meaning, they’re the ones allowed to lay eyes on the pompous prince of the fallen Asgard. Fury believes to know very well, too, only he’s been unable to get through Tony’s self-righteous resistance, though he hasn’t used all force just now: he counts on Stark’s alliance once he gets back on his feet. No one is aware of the possibility that it might not happen.

“I’m not getting into an Ironsuit again. I get a panic attack at that instant,” he admits to unconcerned Loki, and only him, at one point.

“Why?” asks the sorcerer with faint curiosity.

There is no answer.

-

In a comical way, they take turns having nightmares.

Tony is warned out of his sleep by FRIDAY when the trickster’s body shows fight-or-flight responses. He usually lies awake with a screen open near himself until Loki stops tossing around and it’s certain that he won’t destroy the building in his sleep; but lately, more often than not, he directs FRIDAY to wake him up. The sorcerer startles awake by the polite voice in his room, no personal presence seems necessary to stop his body from choking in his sleep. After catching his breath, the notion of silently rolling his eyes and lying back shows he’s getting used to it.

His instincts warn when someone is struggling nearby. Perhaps it’s the tiniest muffled sounds that the mind doesn’t even find worthy to comprehend, or just a gut feeling. Since he started being stirred awake himself, he follows the habit and walks over to Tony’s bedroom when it’s his turn. The billionaire usually wakes up as he slides aside the supposedly locked automatic door and leans to the doorframe in a borrowed T-shirt yelling UNSUPERVISED.

"Do you also hear it when I... you know..." Tony's impudence gushes out.

"Perhaps," Loki responds just to tease back. "I'm a light sleeper, so I’d prefer a lack of disturbance nearby."

"Good thing the walls are sound-proof then, otherwise you'd look forward to perpetual insomnia here."

Something like that's the end of their conversation all the time, Loki doesn't care to be riled into annoyance by a lesser being during his rest. And Tony tries every single time. It's an efficient way of directing thoughts away from the dreams of loved ones perishing.

-

An important guest is due today: some nameless ambassador of one-sided negotiation attempts as SHIELD’s representative. Tony’s faded memories of a normal life suggest that tidying is required.

“Don’t be a scrooge, hex it clean with your magic,” he requests from the lanky figure standing by the window of the long not used corridor.

“Even if I’d be willing to comply, my field is illusions, not cleaning.”

“Works for me. Ready, steady, go.”

With a previously examined, dusty gym weight in hand, Loki glances at the man, marvelling at his naivety. Stark throws his arms up with a huff.

“You’re useless. You need to pay rent.”

“That I cannot do. But you just need to say the word and I’m out of here.”

Tony knows that, and he decides to stay silent at a whim. (Repeatedly. It’s a consequential series of whims.)

The nameless agent turns out to be Fury himself.

“I bring regards from the outside world ravaged by alien hordes,” he says in the clean-looking lounge.

“You have my consent to clone my ass, and only my ass, so no one is hindered at kissing it,” Tony answers while handing him a glass of apple juice unasked.

“How’s your new friend? Is he taking over us any soon?”

“My newest friend was killed by Thanos, if you don’t mind,” answers the billionaire with a sharp look, and he mutters into his own glass of non-alcoholic goo. “I’m stranded here all alone, no one out there could understand the toil I’m facing. I’m in such pain I’ve even quit drinking. At all.”

Fury’s snort is rather irate while he observes the man splash the juice out onto the nearest plant and place the glass upside down on its earth. He still has himself guided around on the floor, the search of his look subtle but undenied.

“I’d love to see you held hostage here, Stark,” he notes meanwhile; “rather than knowing what an ass you are in your entirety. The Government is growing weary of your idleness. They claim you’re withholding two things from the people, two things that’s their rightful share.”

“Just one. My ass is free to kiss now, as I've declared. As for my techno-genius… Nope, that’s also my private possession, sorry. And these parts of the building are long uncharted, I’ve sealed them for safety reasons,” Tony announces while standing between the veteran and the elevator door.

Fury doesn’t argue, possibly because he got what he came here for; but his dark eye bores into the other’s nonchalant mind.

“What is going on in you, Tony Stark?”

The billionaire sighs.

“FRIDAY, play Misery to make this little man understand.”

“That will not be necessary,” says the veteran turning around and walking towards the exit before Tony. “Our last unicorn will be out of his comfortable hiding spot eventually to wreak havoc. And I’ll be waiting.”

“Keep an eye out for him,” Tony Sass calls while the man leaves the fort amidst the ancient Beatles melodies.

Now Tony is the dragon of the castle, protecting the presence of the trickster, who is browsing through the charmingly simplistic human science books a floor above to pass the time.

-

"My stay goads your own kin against you," he notes, half-heartedly meaning it as a question, because the perceived result of Stark’s resistance is familiar. "Where do you go if you become a stranger here?"

“Nowhere. SHIELD can suck my dick. The Government can suck my dick, and you,” Tony faces him with steely darkness in his eyes; “can stay.”

Loki gazes back, awaiting a sign: whether he’s to refuse showing gratitude or it goes without saying. But Tony doesn’t seem to heed either by the time he speaks up again.

“We’re heading out,” he says while backing up. “I’m crashing tonight’s VIP gala of frill. And I’m taking you along.”

"Are you, now?" comes the scoff.

"Unless you're afraid of Fury," the billionaire says, his tone curious.

“Not me.” Loki’s pursed lips illustrate nonchalance.

“Dapper it is,” says Tony’s index finger pointed at the sorcerer before he reels out the door.

-

“No, nope,” he says upon sight. “Drop the black shirt.”

“There is no shame in sporting your finest demeanour, Anthony,” Loki responds.

“It’s 21st century New York, not a ‘90s vampire novel. You look utterly buffoonish, not to mention creepy. I’m going for some light-mooded tease of Fury here. Know what I mean?”

"Better than you think. You have this unexplainable impression to be in control."

“Right, Satan. White shirt, bow tie. Now.”

Loki huffs quietly while assuming the desired attire under his jacket, the teal eyes demanding at least a gush of satisfaction after the magical change. Tony’s lips tighten as he measures his companion.

“Great, now I’ll look like a garden gnome. Let’s go.”

-

The crowd of reporters go crazy about the lanky figure swaggering next to the mildly elderly, long not seen billionaire. Questions arise about his identity. A business partner? An appointed successor? Or?

Loki sports a lenient smile of silence behind the shorter man, who takes the distance between the car and the entrance in a steady pace and occasionally throws a brief response into the crowd to chew on.

My shadow for tonight, he names his companion at the umpteenth question, glancing back at him meaningfully, and the sorcerer responds with an ambiguous hum, keeping to himself that he isn't in the mood to seek trouble for now. Then he keeps on wondering about the expectant gaze on him in front of the unyielding guard at the top of the red-carpeted stairs. As Tony doesn't reach for tickets requested by the suited gorilla, his eyes roll up, and magic causes the attendant to give them way into the museum building.

During a break after a lengthy series of regards by hired guests and VIPs, they stop near the aquarium in the middle of the hall.

"This white shirt of your demand is utterly boring. Everyone is wearing the same," Loki notes, perhaps faintly sulking for the measly attention he's received so far compared to the billionaire.

“What are you wearing for real?” Tony asks while his look roams above the mass of famous heads.

“Scorn and power-mongering. You?”

The billionaire’s look rests up on him at the odd response, particularly on the glowing ring of blue fire around his iris in front of the water tank's oceanic lighting.

“Me. I’m always me. What’s the point of anything else?”

“Ambition.”

Tony steps farther and opens his arms, urging the sorcerer to take in his sight; his shirt looms electric blue, his eyes swallow all light."  

"This is where being myself has led. Is it any worse?"

"Isn’t it ambition what you are then?"

"Nope," he shakes his head. "I don’t give shits. Basic knowledge about me, besides that I don’t like being handed things."

"Why?" asks Loki again with remote interest, and he doesn't receive an answer.

“Time to pay respect to the caviar department,” Tony announces instead, his look on the freshly arrived figures near the entrance, clad in looks dark as their suits, and a grim mood.

He rejects a few attempts at chatting him up on the way there.

They linger in that company for a while, partly because there is a champagne fountain nearby. Tony is immersed in fazing some equally self-satisfied Asian tycoons with an excessive mockery of politeness; Loki listens and is royally ignored, experts quickly decipher he's got nothing to chat up for, and he takes up the role with a suppressed sigh. The billionaire pretends to ignore the teal eyes' look on his hand, he gulps down the long missed liquids undaunted.

At one point, the sorcerer bends closer to his ear during the queasy chatter, to keep discreet.

“Far from me to barge in, but are you counting the glasses you drain?”

"Don't bother setting mathematical challenges before me, I was over the curriculum at 11."

"Am I here then to watch you ruin the occasion for others?"

"All right, that coming from your mouth is vastly ironic, don't you think?"

“Six will be the line where you forget how to hold your tongue,” the sorcerer informs him.

“Make it ten then. What’s the number I’m at?”

“It was mere observation, not a rule I made, Anthony.”

“Call me Stark.”

Loki's eyes dart aside before a response would be given. Tony, interpreting the look at the thing visible over his own shoulder, finally says:

“Moving on. Lobster circles.”

Loki lets his amusement linger as he follows the man; there is no benefit in denying he’s having fun with the tease of the persistent agents.

"See that geezer clawing at his shrimps?" Tony mutters to the god walking a step behind him. "He'd be your guy if you'd plan to stay on Earth as an entrepreneur on the rise, for example. He'd be a sucker for your cruel tricks played on others. Maybe some other day, you're doing me a favour now," he reminds quickly to prevent his companion's suspected deserting.

"I am?"

Tony stops at the targeted buffet and faces him while picking up a plate of tootpick-stabbed sausage rolls.

"Since you can't pay rent, remember? Or is this actually out of gratitude?"

The sorcerer's unveiled smile indicates the naivety of the idea.

"You sweet, gullible man."

He graciously rejects the offered plate with an open palm, so Tony pilfers it himself. He seems immersed in the mass produced goods, his forehead gets wrinkled from intense concentration whenever another human stays near them.

"Getting tired?" Loki guesses.

"Of your imagined superiority? A little," the billionaire mutters while discovering the wine glasses at the back of the table. Replacing the plate with two of them, he presses one into the sorcerer's hand unasked, so he can clink his own to his. "To being a smart-ass."

Loki is aware that it's the first time the man left his solitude in the past years; that he is struggling with the crowd, the overwhelming input, and that his approaching fatigue is expectable. He knows that entertaining his proclaimed shadow is what keeps Tony from focusing on his discomfort. Loki is not much willing to be a saviour of this kind, especially while it isn't his own choice. He still pries the glass away from the billionaire's lips.

"Over the line," Tony warns him.

"We'd best move on yet again," Loki explains while placing the glass on the table beside his own.

They both glance towards the approaching agents, a semi-purposeful mistake: their eyes meet, and acknowledging the recognition, the suited figures speed up.

"I have nothing else planned for today," notes the billionaire while they hurry into the other direction. He snatches a pair of brandy from a waiter's plate, then stops to hand one to his companion, and to be able to speak unnoticed. "Guess we're going into hiding."

"You won't try persuading me to crawl under tables, I hope," Loki mutters.

"No way, it would be too hard to evade all the other lurkers."

"How many others here have a reason to lurk?"

Tony marvels at his ignorance for a breath, and then, with glass in hand, a circular movement points around the hall's crowd.

"Any rich bastards with an ambitious lady to drop her lipstick for them."

He observes the trickster's searching look on the people.

"Tell me you aren't thinking of turning into a woman."

"What? No way."

A few seconds pass in silence before they simultaneously break into a tense laughter. Their discomfort turns them away from each other; they hurry on as they catch their breaths in their respective pace.

Leaving their emptied glasses on the railing, they climb a row of cushioned stairs and stop on the interior balcony, overlooking the hub of the party and Fury's men moving towards them in the crowd. They're standing at the entrance of an unlit corridor, sealed with a gold-infused rope, which Tony then ignores with a careless step over it, wordlessly inviting Loki along.

They wander through a labyrinth of rooms, intruding a few guests' private activities; some they bump into several times by the time they figure out the directions.

Tony explains on the way that this building is cultural heritage, in the possession of a culture-loving fella. No, it isn't a place for private living. You can't buy it and redesign it at your leisure. But really, living alone in such a gloryhole must surely be a pain. Walking five miles to reach the toilet or the fridge. All these super thick and ultimately breakable walls keep blocking any kind of wireless connection. If you want to live in a castle, you're better off designing a modern one for your own personalised comfort.

He stops in the umpteenth entertainment hall with an unsettled frown.

"Do you think they couldn't keep up, after all?"

"They're common humans," Loki points out. "You must know how weak their senses are."

"You remember being held captive by common humans, right?"

"They can be tricky," the sorcerer admits reluctantly. "Most likely, however, these ones are just passing through doors randomly, without a clue about which way we went."

"Then maybe we could give them an advantage by making some ruckus, how about that?" Tony asks while walking to the piano at the corner.

"And the aim is...?"

The billionaire opens the lid and runs his hand through the keys, producing a disharmonious arch.

"The sweet feeling of having pissed off someone unimportant. Judging from your brother's tales, I deem you up for it."

Loki smirks while leaning to the wall with arms crossed.

"Trying to define me leads nowhere. Play that thing instead."

"Well, I can't. I thought you'd be into it, coming to Earth in this ancient-fashioned style and all."

"It's still a different world, I don't know all your tools. How do you play this one?"

Tony purses his lips.

"Press these keys?"

The sorcerer separates from the wall with a sigh and repositions himself on the wooden seat. Glancing up at the man now leaning on top of the instrument, he presses down a key, as required.

"Why don't you try using all fingers?" Tony suggests. "You you know, like-" And he reaches over to produce another dissonant tune with a hand.

The sorcerer's eyebrows run up while placing both hands over the keys.

There is no real beginning or warm-up, he produces a lengthy, fast-paced tune right away, catching the listener of-guard with it. The constantly varying, never recurring patterns move on the entire width of the scale; the melody takes a high flight, then it falls meekly, taking capricious detours on the way to the bottom. It stops there, replaced by a glance up at the billionaire.

"Wow," Tony comments unmoving. "If I was a fan of modern classical, I'd want to lick all ten of your fingers. Can you do toes? Tongue? Hair?"

"Let's not press it further," Loki suggests as he stands up.

They walk out of the dark corridor without encountering anyone offensive, and they can't help wondering if the agents got lost in the labyrinth of rooms forever. But the unanswered question doesn't bother them for long.

“One last photo before we leave?” Tony offers like he’s bringing refreshment.

“I believe the point has gone through already.”

“Very well." He snatches away a last whiskey from a passing plate and gulps it down. “No secret routes then, they swarm with paparazzi. My suggestion is the main exit. Got anything better?”

They both know he has. In the upstairs washroom where security cameras don't reach, Loki offers his arm over the toilet with the conceit of an aristocrat. It’s how they step out again, magic infused in their bodies and making them invisible to ordinary eyes. Tony has the time of his life while they scoot and reel away among unsuspecting guests arm in arm, seeking the least populated way out; Loki needs to shush him every twenty steps. And he needs to receive harsh threats to refrain from straying towards the vault. Tony is ready to shed his own blood to preserve the sorcerer’s record at its current state: staining it today would namely kill the purpose of this entire ruckus, the tuxedo, the surprise appearance, the avoidance of Fury’s men, the brash display of indifference.

-

The plan worked, next day’s headlines are filled with the fancy pair. Meanwhile, the ‘or’ option finds excessive popularity in the tabloids. The root cause of it are the photos snapped around the aquarium and some other points of their journey. Tony standing before his companion with open arms. Loki bending close to his ear to share something personal. Tony glancing back at him to exchange a knowing blink. Receiving the warmest of smiles. Drinks in hand, laughing at the world around them. Sneaking right into the closed area where no guests are allowed.

Who's the mysterious escort? How much did he cost? Tony Stark coming out?

The man of the day, still sitting dressed in sportswear after a long missed morning jog, drops the phone in his lap and leans back to massage the brim of his nose, his grin rather uncomfortable.

“Not caring is bliss,” he mumbles and tugs the hood down over his eyes.

~ 🎵 ~

[neuropathicgypsy]

I've been remembering things... like a normal person... and unlike a normal person and forgetting things also...

I keep remembering when Matt's grandpa saw me at Putt-Putt... at least twice.

The first time he kept touching me while I was playing this kiss the frog game... enough to where I punched him and pushed him nearly down cause he kept touching me behind me where I couldn't see him and then he grabbed my arm that's when I pushed him

Then he acted like nothing happened and asked me how I played the game. I told him I would move and he could play that's when he pushed against me again and I told him to wait and i would move and he said he didn't even want to play he just wanted to know how.

What the fuck was that shit? He walked away cause he was already Hurt cause I didn't look at him Like I play the games he does.

Then I saw him again on Joe's daughter's birthday and he was behind the counter and we had this whole discussion, Joe and I did about who he was and he just kept going off so he then pretended like he was Joe's dad.

He left the same time we did... I was there with my ex husband and daughter in my exhusbands car... I sat in the back seat because we were going to get divorced but I didn't trust him alone with my daughter so we did family things so I could make sure they could be social together and she could be safe.

Then another time in my parents town we went to walmart... which wasn't normal for us and we parked far from the doors and there was plenty of room near the doors... and when we left there was a white rental car parked next to ours but way closer than I felt should be normal... and I was all super paranoid while my kid got in the car and stood on her side of the car while she got in... a lot because she got startled by him... sitting in the car... on a laptop.

I knew it was the same guy I thought was Joe's dad.

But then i saw a photo of Matt's grandpa not too long ago...

Tonight I asked Matt.... are you sure I was pregnant with you kids and it wasn't your grandpa? Cause it really seems like your grandpa is a rapist and I don't remember getting pregnant by you and shouldn't that be something I remember?

I remember getting pregnant with my daughter and I must say it wasn't the best sex in my life and in fact I was quite tired and wasn't really into it but...

But I sense all this general badness wi th my getting pregnant earlier ...

I mean... my mom did get all crazy when she realized I was and we had to call the cops....

And we were in a lot of foster homes...

But it doesn't seem right...

---

His answer is: Matt your gramma will read that..

well it didn't stop him from getting his ass beat when his wife was at the putt-putt with him and their friends. I think she should know the truth about what her husband does. Quit hiding behind children. It also explains why the infants were murdered. Because before I couldn't understand. I've been thinking about it at least once a week for months.

----

So now Matt says we had had sex after I was pregnant, in a new foster Home and I had said "finally the first time we have had sex..." and I was very tired so I didn't finish

Matt thinks he's funny so he says "what?!? Those aren't my kids?!"

And I didn't know what to say because back then, I had amnesia a good portion of the time... I had gotten pregnant in the summer then sent back to my parents house to start school. And i no longer could button my pants and I knew zipping them up part of the way wasn't going to last long and I had to tell my mom I needed new clothes and it seemed like there was some alien weirdness inside me.

So then MATT also likes attention so he called everyone he knew to brag he had had sex.... and his grandpa said something about finding out when the DNA came out whose kids they were, his or his.

And Matt said "what are you telling me, you have been raping my woman?!"

And his grandpa snap hissed, "I told you I had sex with her, didn't i?!?"

He's that old plantation type that comes from negro slaves and that sort although his family was poorer than his wife's, he understood that a "man" got his sex however he pleased and a woman had no right to disobey him. Although if his negros went on strike and didn't do all his work for him, he'd been a poor man with nothing to his name so Idk who he thought he was that his duck was made of gold plated stainless steel cause it sure wasn't anything I'd write home about except to say everyone should stay away from it...

So to this terrible old white man, rape and sex was the same thing. If he was willing then she should be, too. And if she wasn't then she had her own problems that didn't matter to him and never will.

His problems don't matter to me, either. So whatever Matt's gramma has to do, his gramma has to do.

And his gramma has always known. That's why we went to foster care, I'm quite sure.

The story always was that since I was pregnant we had to be removed from the custodial care. Maybe my mom threw a fit but really she didn't and doesn't like me much so idk. But it didn't matter either because my dad had the upper hand being military and my father. And her just being a bitch.

And so the story was since I was pregnant the people we were with (his family and mine) didn't pay enough attention to us for us to be safe.

But we had sex in the foster hones and they knew and that was supposed to be the whole reason we had to be in foster care, because we had had sex.

And we were always placed together.

I know his gramma knew so this ass hole grandpa all saying "your grand MA is gonna read that matt" as if matts grandma's feelings had ever mattered to him is absolutely ridiculous.

"I told you I had sex with her didn't I boy" as an answer to "you raped her" ..... rape culture should never had a place in our history and shouldn't have a place in our future

---

His gramma is all distressed and I'm like what is the problem didn't you go to the lawyer?

And she's all yes I called but he said he can't see me till next week.

I told her do you can just do one online and it's not a big deal.

She says that's what Matt had told her.

So I ask Matt well did you? She seems really worried and he said yeah and you know my grandpa isn't home.

She said that he said he will come home immediately.

(Because obviously his 4th family isn't as important as making sure he gets his money)

So I'm all what's that short little man going to do to you.

She said something I can't quite remember

And I said "oh he's like Matt, he's got that Hagan charm, makes you want to forgive him as if it was that easy"

Then we go on and she can get all th documents to file for divorce quite easily and since his family was poor and her father protective of his daughter and his family assets she could file and leave him with nearly nothing.

Since he's got multiple families across the country I don't see why he should continue to scrounge off her.

Of course he would do the whole verbal abuse calling her a scrooge and all... but really what's worse the truth or manipulation? Always the truth otherwise there would be no manipulation

He is a rapist no one likes. He's a rapist which means he forces people to have sex with him.

She tried to protect me, Matt and babies she probably never met and he calls her a scrooge. Which is absolutely untrue. She sacrificed great grandchildren and her grandchild of a son whom was murdered and still her seriously scrooge manipulation husband had her great grandchildren killed because he didn't want to lose her money.

So since he did that then I think that absolutely she should divorce him and let him call her Scrooge cause the real scrooge is him and he has destroyed many lives for his own greed and to keep wealth that wasn't his.

Instead of allowing his ass to take money for his greed and multiple families and gambling she could create a charity or memorial or scholarships or all of the above and more.

And then we will all know who is really the Scrooge.