#the only good tank i had yesterday also called the other tank a slur and it's just like.... come on man

[bobafett]

the catch-22 of overwatch is that games go way smoother when people are actually talking on comms, but also the kinds of people who talk on comms use the most atrocious language you've ever heard in your life

[angstyaches]

my fatal flaw is loving fluff more than whump, but i love whumpy nightmare scenarios…? so…what about charlie having a bad nightmare again, either due to being sick or resulting in getting sick, and being so distressed that he has to call shayne? the reverse scenario (shayne calling charlie) would also be so good but i feel like he’d be more hesitant to do that 🤧 i’m imagining lots of shaking and shaky breathing and self-loathing remedied just a little with some physical comfort? like being held idk. ANYWAY this is my request hehe

I spent ages trying to figure out a scenario where Charlie could call Shayne and Shayne could actually get to him, but when they’re apart, it’s hard for Shayne to spontaneously decide to go to Charlie’s. I could have swapped Shayne in for the sickie but I wanted to do Charlie. Sooo, the comfort is mostly verbal, although Charlie recalls physical comfort from the past. I'm sorry if it's not what you had in mind! Feel free to request more nightmare whump anytime, because I adore it.

The events of this fic are referenced (sorry for the first-person POV lol I was trying something out when I started this blog)

CW: nightmare, emeto, crying, anxiety, brief referenced past violence and blood.

___

It was the middle of the night, and the only thing Charlie could hear was the sound of the toilet tank refilling. That, and the tiny gasps that escaped him every now and then as he tried to catch his breath.

His stomach muscles were practically on fire from clenching, and he was still getting his breath back as he leaned against the side of the bath and held his phone to his ear.

The light bounced against the tiles and burned his eyes, but it was better than the dark. The dark had sprouted wings in his dream, along with a set of claws.

Charlie gasped and shook his head, burying it quickly between his knees and trying to get the image out of his head. His spine felt like his skin was crawling all over it.

“Charlie?”

His heart felt like it was going to slip up his throat at the sound of Shayne’s voice on the phone. He had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from whimpering with sheer relief. He hadn’t quite acknowledged it, but part of him had been terrified that Shayne wouldn’t answer the phone at all.

He’s okay…

“H-hey.” Charlie cringed at how badly his voice was shaking, and it echoed against the empty bathroom shelves just like his retching and coughing had done a few minutes ago. “I’m – I’m sorry.”

“Hmm? What’re you sorry for?” Shayne mumbled on the other end of the phone.

“You were probably sleeping, I – I just…” Charlie rubbed at his eyes, desperate to get them dry. Nausea was still trickling lightly through his stomach, and he wondered if he’d have to rush back to the toilet bowl sometime soon.

“What’s wrong, what happened?”

“I got sick…” Charlie pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his forehead against his bare knees. His voice almost disappeared completely down his throat. “I… don’t feel well.”

“Shit. I thought you were finished with all that.”

It took Charlie a moment to realise that Shayne was referring to the food poisoning Charlie had accidentally given himself (and Rin) the day before yesterday.

He swallowed thickly, pulling a face at the memory. He’d felt so much better before going to bed; in fact, he’d been starving, his body feeling hollow and achy after purging itself for a day and a half. He’d cooked an entire bag of chicken nuggets from the freezer, made himself four slices of toast, finished off a tub of Ben and Jerry’s, and had gone to bed feeling blissfully better.

He struggled to find a way to gently tell Shayne that the problem that had woken him at 4am had less to do with his stomach and more to do with his brain.

Although the amount of heavy food in his belly admittedly may have contributed somewhat.

“Charlie, you okay?”

He started a bit, realising he hadn’t replied in a while. “I’m – no. Not really,” he whispered, a sharp sob jerking his ribs and scraping at his throat.

“Put me on the, um, the video thing.”

The phone jingled beside Charlie’s ear, telling him that Shayne was requesting a video call. Charlie made an attempt to clean his face off with his pyjama top before accepting it, propping the bottom of his phone against his knee.

“You know, you sound sixty when you call it ‘the video thing’,” he said, trying to sound upbeat.

“Really?” Shayne narrowed his eyes into a glare as soon as he appeared on Charlie’s screen. “Would you say that to my face if it was actually this close to you?”

Charlie managed a weak smile. Some of the tension bled out of him just at the sight of his boyfriend and his sleepy brown eyes. His chin wobbled uncontrollably as emotions swelled in his belly and chest. “I wish it was this close to me.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Shayne folded one arm behind his head and leaned back against his pillow. His room was mostly dark, but he seemed to be lying on his back. “Wait, are you real-crying? Not just throwing-up-crying?”

Charlie sighed shakily, rushing to rub away the tears that had sneaked up on him. He felt his lips quiver as he tried to keep the smile from turning into a grimace.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

Charlie gulped and nodded. “How could you tell?”

“Give me some credit. I feel like I know you pretty well by now.”

Charlie’s eyes were drawn towards the shrunken image of himself in the top-right corner of the screen, and tried to hold back even more tears. In his own – admittedly warped – opinion, he looked about as disgusting as he felt. He hated that he felt trapped in front of the camera, forcing Shayne to look at him in this state.

“Charlie,” Shayne murmured, his eyes softening in the light of his bedside lamp. “Talk to me, yeah?”

“They’re get – they’re getting worse,” Charlie breathed, burying his face in one hand. It felt a little silly to keep his phone held steady in the other, camera trained on himself even as he covered his eyes and wept, but he didn’t want to cast Shayne aside either. He peered out over the top of his hand, still covering his mouth to try to keep the volume under control.

“I know, but they’re just dreams, remember? They’re not real.”

A gag pulled at Charlie’s throat and he had to shut his eyes. But it was real…

“Deep breaths,” Shayne said, his tone in complete contrast to Charlie’s sobs. “You want to count back from ten with me? Sometimes I need some help. I can get to nine, and then I just get confused.”

Charlie almost laughed through the tears. He wondered if he should have been insulted by Shayne’s attempt to use Charlie’s own method on him. He decided to humour him though, rasping out numbers while thinking that it would never work because he was thinking too hard about it, but by the time they got to zero, he was able to take a breath without his chest hitching.

Shayne said nothing for a few seconds, watching to see what Charlie would do next. He frowned when Charlie shuddered harshly, making the picture wobble.

“You cold?”

Charlie nodded.

“Then go get into bed, idiot.”

He did his best to keep his phone elevated as he walked, but in his exhausted state, Charlie probably gave Shayne a prime view of the stubble under his chin as he made his way back to bed. He shakily propped his phone on the nightstand, next to Vincent the teddy bear, and went to grab a fresh t-shirt from the drawer. He’d sweat through the one he’d fallen asleep in, ruining it even before it had vomit and tears on it.

He finally crawled into bed, his stomach letting out a hollow, unhappy groan as it settled into the new position. Charlie groaned too, reaching out to take his phone in his hand again. He hated how the bedside light made his face look haggard and washed-out.

“All good?” Shayne asked.

“All good,” Charlie slurred, his eyes drooping already. “I miss you, though.”

“I miss you too, love.”

Charlie pulled his blanket tightly around himself, keeping one arm outstretched with his phone so that he and Shayne could still see one another. His sheets had cooled down a lot since he’d flung himself out from between them earlier, and after crouching on the tiles for so long, it was nice to be surrounded by something soft and pleasant.

Shayne tilted his head slightly as they both lay in silence for a moment, just looking into each other’s eyes through their cameras. “How’s the nausea?”

“A little better,” Charlie sighed. “My tummy just kind of hurts.”

Shayne clicked his tongue. “Fuck. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“No.” Although his chest panged with longing for the same thing, Charlie shook his head. “You’re better – you’re safer there, and I don’t –”

The whoosh of dark, leathery wings in the night and the splatter across the hardwood flashed in Charlie’s memory. In the dream, the blood had been Shayne’s; Charlie had watched as Watson had torn his heart right out of his chest before dragging the rest of him away into the sky.

In reality, the blood had been mostly Charlie’s; he’d cut his hands on the broken glass left behind by Watson’s exit through the window.

“Lately, I just…” Charlie swallowed sickly. “I can’t stop thinking about that – that night, remember? When Watson came to my room to find you?”

Shayne fell silent for a moment, seemed to shift position slightly. “Mmhmm.”

“I was dreaming about – about that, but… worse.”

“He won’t come for you,” Shayne said. He seemed like he was gritting his teeth. “If he or Madelyn even try to get near that house, they’ll –”

“I know.” Charlie chewed the inside of his lip. He ducked his face below the blanket and quickly dabbed at fresh tears that were starting to form. “But I was so… I was so useless, Shayne, I knew I could have stopped him, but I didn’t, I was frozen solid, I –”

“Ssshhh…” Shayne whispered, the sound crackling gently through the phone’s speaker. “Charlie, love, come out.”

Teeth chattering in his head, Charlie sniffled from under the blanket.

“Please, I want to see you.”

When he crinkled the blanket into his fingers and revealed just the top half of his face to the camera again, Charlie wished he hadn’t gone into detail about the dream at all. Not only did he look like a mess, now he sounded like one, too. He felt himself blush when Shayne’s eyes lit up on the screen, realising Charlie had come out from behind the blanket.

“You know what I think of when I think of that night?”

Charlie swallowed thickly, shaking his head.

“I think about the way you let me fall asleep on your bed, even though I was being an asshole to you.”

He couldn’t help nuzzling his head against the pillow where Shayne’s head had been that night, while Charlie had sat lengthways with Shayne’s legs across his lap. He’d had crazy butterflies in his stomach, barely able to believe that his crush had shown up in the middle of the night, unconsciously looking for comfort from him.

“It was the first night we fell asleep together, too,” Shayne said.

Without realising it, Charlie had slid one hand around the side of his own neck, fingers running lightly through the hair at the back of his head. Shayne had never touched him before that night either, but he’d ran his fingers through his hair as though he’d been doing it for years. Light shivers of pleasure trickled over Charlie’s skin. The panicked pounding in his chest was starting to slow. “That’s true...”

“You’re anything but useless,” Shayne murmured, turning onto his side and adjusting the angle of his phone. His eyes were starting to close. “I think that’s what my point was. I forgot.”

Charlie gave a light, breathy laugh which was cut off by a deep yawn. He hid his face from the camera again, to avoid giving Shayne a view of his tonsils this time. By the time he looked at the screen again, Shayne was struggling to keep his eyes open, but neither of them said anything.

They never found out whose phone dropped out of whose hand first.

[peterxwade24]

Safety Found in Red Sleeves

Chapter 7

So, who’s ready for Gotham ft. Thana and friends? Also, Uncles Ed and John show up at the end so, look out for that.

Anyways...

Jason woke up early that next day, and he decided he was just going to have a little bit of a lie in. He smiled and pulled Damian closer, shushing him when he made a noise in protest. “I’m pretty sure the girls are going to join us in a little bit, and then Tim a little while after that.”

Just like he expected, Steph and Cass joined them in the bed not too long after he said it, and then Tim joined in a few minutes after the girls. The five of them laid in bed, everyone finding comfort in each other. No words were passed between the family, they didn’t feel the need to speak.

That’s where Dick and Wally, and their kids, found them about an hour later.

“Why weren’t we called to join the cuddle pile?” Dick pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, while Mar’i, Jay, and Iris ducked around their fathers and climbed into the bed. They, like Damian, chose a Wayne and clung to them. Mar’i clung to Tim, Iris clung to Steph and Jai clung to Cass.

“There’s a nine-year-old practically asleep on my chest. My phone is on my nightstand. None of them brought their phones to my bed.” Jason whispered and carded his fingers through Damian’s hair.

Dick shot a look at Wally, Wally simply shrugged as though to say “when in Rome” before he too got into the bed.

“C’mon Dickiebird. We don’t have anything to do today. We don’t start guiding or protecting them till tomorrow.” Jason’s words were slightly slurred in his comfortable state.

Dick huffed good-naturedly before climbing into the bed with his family and the Wests.

---

Tim’s phone blared from the room he’d claimed, stirring the almost completely asleep cuddle pile into wakefulness.

Jason frowned and shifted Damian from his chest to Steph’s other side. “I’ll be right back. Imma go answer Timber’s phone.” Jason slowly got out of the bed, being careful to not displace the other kids, and quietly left the room. He made his way into Tim’s room, grabbed his phone off of the night stand, and, without looking at the caller ID, answered the phone. “Timothy Jackson Drake’s phone, Jason speaking.”

“Why do you have his phone?” Bruce’s irritated voice came over the line.

“Because Tim’s in my bed asleep with most of my family and he left his phone on the nightstand next to the bed he sleeps in.” Jason’s voice didn’t change despite a grin forming on his face. “If something’s gone wrong at Wayne Enterprises, then shouldn’t you as the CEO be stepping up to solve it? And not your seventeen year old son.”

“You have no-” Bruce growled.

“I have no what? Room to care about my little brother? Right to care that my brothers and sisters would perish in your care?” Jason’s tone took on a deadly edge. “I have killed for less. I have killed to keep my son safe. I am not above maiming in the defense of those I love.” Jason hung up the phone and put it back down on the nightstand with a weighted sigh. He turned and the only indication he was surprised by Cass’s appearance was a slight widening to his eyes. “Hey Cass.”

Cass simply walked towards her brother and let herself slump against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him in her own display of thanks.

Jason simply rubbed circles into the older girl’s back. “I will not let him hurt any of you ever again. Harvey and I will fight tooth and nail if we have to, he has already given up his parental rights to Damian. You and Steph and Tim are just as much my siblings as you are my kids, well, you not so much a kid but you know what I mean.”

Cass shook with silent laughter and nodded. She patted Jason’s back and pulled back. She flashed him a smile before pulling him back to the rest of the family. 

---

Jason smiled as Damian ran around the park with Mar’i, Jai and Iris. Damian hadn’t had many opportunities to open up to children his age, as there hadn’t been any in the league, and despite the fact that he was older than the other three the four of them got along fairly well. Jason watched as Dick fretted over the three younger kids, Wally stood beside him with a small affectionate grin on his face. Tim was riding a skateboard around the park, Bart keeping pace beside him. Cass sat with Kon while Steph, Cassie and Cissie chatted a few paces away from the other two.

Damian, Mar’i, Jai and Iris ran around the park, weaving around other patrons and laughing. Damian looked over his shoulder at the other three when he ran into someone.

“Are you okay? Oh I’m so sorry.” A girl, who was with the person Damian ran into, spoke with a French accent. She was significantly taller than her companion with long black hair, the bangs and tips of which were dyed purple, and copper coloured eyes. She fretted over both Damian and her friend, who Damian was finally taking in. Her friend was short, just a head or two taller than Damian, with blue eyes and short pink hair, part of which was pulled back into a spiky ponytail.

Damian nodded. “I’m fine.”

Mar’i, Jai and Iris, upon seeing Damian standing, turned and ran to get their fathers.

The taller girl nervously flicked her bangs out of her face before frowning. “Are you sure you’re okay? Alix doesn’t always look where she’s skating.”

The other girl, apparently named Alix, looked ready to comment when Dick and Wally approached.

“Are you okay Damian?” Dick’s tone was filled with concern while Wally hung back with the three other kids.

“I’m fine Uncle Dick.” Damian frowned, “where’s Baba?”

“He’s gathering the other three, then they’ll be over here.” Dick reassured his young brother/nephew.

Jason ran to his son and scooped him up. “Oh Kutlat Saghira. Are you okay?” He turned to look at the French teens and smiled. “Thank you for stopping to make sure he was fine.”

Alix’s eyes widened before nodding. “Yeah, uh, no problem.”

Juleka gave a shy smile and nodded. “It was the least we could do.”

-*-*-*

Thana stared at her friends, the three who had always had her back and the two newest additions to their ranks. She took a moment to thank Plagg and Tikki, without whom she may never have met her closest friends and allies. She took in her friends and the way that all of their outfits seemed to go together without being obnoxiously matchy-matchy.

Alix seemed to be vibrating in her shoes, which were custom made turtle shell patterned Heelys. She wore dark gray distressed jeans with a dark forest green racerback tank top. She had a black and red men’s flannel over her tank with a red beanie perched on the top of her head. She had a dark green turtle themed shoulder bag strapped across her back.

Nino, standing next to Alix, had similar shoes done in snake skin instead of turtle shell. He wore loose-fitting blue denim jeans with several snake related patches around the side seems, he had a gray collared shirt under a red sweatshirt. He had a black shoulder bag across his back, on the opposite side Alix’s was. He had his normal headphones around his head while he had a pair of black headphones atop his head.

Adrien wore black and white checkered vans with white socks. His pants were salmon with baby pink criss-crossing stripes covering them. He wore a baby pink sweater with a light gray fanny pack.

Chloé wore a layered yellow skirt with a pair of foxes chasing each other around her hem, her skirt was made up of a solid layer of yellow silk under two or three layers of tulle. She had a white crop top tank under a red knit cardigan. She had an orange coloured baguette purse at her side. She had black converse with black socks to finish off her outfit.

Kim wore a pair of black running shoes, with gray sweatpants and a white shirt. He had a red zippered hoodie on top of that. He had a tiny gray ox with a smaller black cat curled up on its back on the hem of his shirt.

Thana had a pair of black running shoes, with gray leggings and a white tank top. She had a red crop top hoodie made of the hoodie she’d received from Jason all those years ago with a few added panels. Her tank top had little depictions of the Vietnamese zodiac animals on her chest.

Alix smiled brighty. “So, Kiti, you’ll never guess who I ran into, almost literally, yesterday.”

Thana hummed in acknowledgement as she led the group to the elevator. “Who’d you run into Rùa?”

“Oh, just, your brother, his brother, and an assortment of children.” Alix grinned as Thana froze and turned to look at her.

“What?” Thana’s voice was almost too quiet to hear, prompting Kim to drape his arm across her shoulders while Nino settled his normal headphones around Thana’s neck.

Chloé stared at Adrien, her blue eyes seeming to stare into Adrien’s soul.

“Hey, Al, that maybe wasn’t the best thing to say when we’re trying to get to the lobby to go on a tour with the rest of our class.” Adrien attempted to gently tell her off, but it backfired.

“Whatever.” Alix slunk ahead of them into the elevator.

---

Adrien looked at Alix forlornly as Alix chatted with Juleka. He knew he’d have to apologize eventually, he may have one fear as Monsieur Punaise (which was his partner) but he had two fears as Adrien Agreste, and they were disappointing his father and an angry Chloé Bourgeois. He shook his head and looked back at Chloé, who had a frown on her face as her eyes continued to scan the streets.

Nino fiddled with his phone as he kept pace a step behind Chloé but a step ahead of Thana and Kim. He looked to be fully absorbed in his phone but he was quick to pull Chloé away from the street a few moments before a car came whizzing past.

Their tour guide, a pleasant man who’d introduced himself as Richard, despite the fact that the bodyguard had snorted in response before neglecting to introduce himself, led them around Gotham. He pointed out all of the touristy destinations, while Thana mumbled what could be considered sad facts about each place.

Thana kept flicking her eyes to the bodyguard, there was only one Gothamite with the exact same build as their bodyguard with the same scars littering his cheeks and jaw. She was worrying the cuffs of her jacket sleeves when she heard the distinctive tap of her Uncle Ed’s cane. She whipped around to attempt to locate him, before seeing him and his tacky suit and her Uncle John and his equally as tacky suit approaching from behind Kim. She broke away from the group, causing the rest of her class (as well as the tour guide and bodyguard) to turn to stare at her as she threw herself into her Uncle Ed’s arms.

“Little Hood. It’s good to see you.” Her Uncle Ed held her close while Uncle John finally reached the duo.

“Hey Mini Todd.” Her Uncle John ruffled her hair before settling an arm around Ed’s shoulders.

The three reunited for a moment under the watchful eyes of the class’ bodyguard, Thana’s friends, and Marinette’s class. Kim pulled out his phone to take a picture to send to his Mẹ, because she had asked for any updates on Thana’s family situation. Nino took a picture to send to Thana, because he knew she’d want to have photographic evidence of when she reunited with her two of her uncles.

“I missed you two so much.” Thana whispered into Ed’s neck while John settled his hand on the back of Thana’s head.

“We missed you too.” John assured their niece, he knew that she’d had doubts about whether or not they had actually missed her as much as she’d missed them, and he hated her father for giving her that complex every day.

Lila let out a blood-curdling scream before appearing to tremble as she pointed at the trio. “Marinette is hugging The Riddler and Scarecrow!” Lila then proceeded to pretend to faint, luckily for her Alya was right there to catch her, unluckily for her everyone else was focused on their classmate and that fact that she appeared to have tears streaming down her cheeks.

Taglist:

@southamericangothamite @maribat-is-lifeblood @mystery-5-5 @our-preciousss @mochegato @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitch @2confused-2doanything @wannajointhecrabcult @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmymind @moonlightstar64 @justafanwarrior @mialuvscats @pheony1882 @pepelachanel @moongoddesskiana @abrx2002 @ladybug-182 @greatcatblaze @thatonecroc @vixen-uchiha @superbwhispersconnoisseur @lilkymilky @susiej1118  @bluesimani @thatonecroc

[awanderingdeal]

Summer Camp AU - Chapter 3 - Leo

Sorry about the wait on this one! Our darling Leo will be taking us through this chapter. 

CW: mentions of injury (minor)

Fic Rating: T

Please message me if you feel that any content warnings need to be added or the rating is not appropriate. 

Thank you to my wonderful betas @bkfstclubmember and @fleetingpieces. 

The characters in this fic belong to @lumosinlove and you should definitely go and check out her fics!

For previous and future chapters please see my masterlist

Leo had only been to summer camp once as a kid, and that had been back in middle school. It had escaped his memory how draining it was to meet so many new people, learn the layout of the site, and to keep track of all the rules he needed to remember. Between that, and the bruises littering his body from the evening of Dodgeball and Capture the Flag, Leo was exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. 

Regulus hadn’t crept back into their cabin until the early hours of the morning and had declined coming to breakfast in favour of more sleep. It meant that Leo was alone when he set his breakfast tray down at an empty table. He was only able to savour the quiet for a couple of minutes though, before the chaos of camp caught up with him. 

“Leo!” a boy said, startling Leo into looking up from his eggs. He recognised him from the game of dodgeball; he’d hit Leo square in the chest. Besides, it would have been difficult to forget that face. Cropped curls, a chiseled jawline and deep brown eyes. He’d cut his camp t-shirt into a low tank top. Leo noticed the scars, a slightly paler brown than the rest of his skin, peeking out through the oversized arm holes. He’d never seen anybody wear them so proudly before and it made him want to smile. Not only for the other boy, but for himself. Because if 13 year old Leo, heck if 17 year old Leo, had been told that one day he’d be in a place that would allow him to be authentically himself, and he’d be surrounded by others who understood what it was to be different, he never would have believed it. 

“Morning,” Leo had to glance at the boy's badge; he was awful with names. “Thomas,” he said with a smile. He’d only said two words to the boy yesterday, but Thomas seemed like the type who would be friends with anybody that was willing. 

“Call me Talker,” Thomas said, reaching out a hand for Leo to shake. “Please.” 

“Morning, Talker,” Leo repeated with a laugh, shaking the hand before shovelling more eggs into his mouth. 

Soon the table was full, and Leo found himself in a heated conversation about whether kindles were better than books. Somehow, that led to him lapping up James’ stories of previous camp disasters until Lily shoved her boyfriend and told him to stop scaring the rookie. 

The chatter was interrupted by the static of a microphone. Everybody, including Leo, turned towards the source of the noise. A flustered looking young man stood over by the buffet table, clutching his hands around the microphone so hard that his knuckles were white. James cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, “Go Loops!”

The man smiled and gave a nervous cough, but the encouragement seemed to work. “Hi everybody, I’m Remus Lupin. Most people just call me Loops though. My pronouns are he/him and I’ve been coming to this camp for the last two years. Clearly I didn’t suck too much, because they hired me as a medic this year,” he paused, his eyes searching the crowd. They landed on the man that Leo had met as Regulus’ brother the day before, and his smile grew wider. “I’m going to be leading the first aid training this morning, so if you could all be out at the pavilion in 15 minutes that would be fantastic...thanks.” 

The room fell silent as Remus set the microphone back in its stand and walked off, receiving a pat on the shoulder from Dumo as he passed. The hall soon erupted with noise again as people finished up their food and made to follow the instructions they had been given.

“Alright! Let’s go save some lives,” Thomas boomed, downing the last of his glass of milk and grabbing his tray. He’d only taken two steps before he turned back around and flashed a grin at Leo. “Nutty! I forgot to say. Dumo asked us to film some promo TikToks and your beautiful face would be great in it. You in?” 

Leo had no idea who ‘us’ was, but he’d promised himself to take every opportunity that this camp threw at him so he nodded, and gave a small, “Sure, why not?”

“Great, I’ll see you after dinner then,” Thomas said, walking off with a bounce in his step.

When Leo made his way to the pavilion, he was given a card with the number 1 on it by Remus. He didn’t know what it was for, but clutched it in his hand as he looked around for Regulus, hoping they had managed to wake up on time. He was relieved to set his eyes on them talking to June, a girl that Leo had met yesterday. She had been a bit intimidating, leaning against a tree, dressed in biker boots and a leather jacket that he later learnt had a bisexual flag stiched into back. However, she’d turned out to be extremely friendly and Leo relaxed knowing Regulus was in good hands. 

“Okay! Listen up, folks,” Remus called out. “Each of you has been given a card with a number on it. There is one other person with the same number as you. Please find them, they are going to be your partner for today’s training session.”

Different people seemed to have different strategies for finding their partner. Some decided to stay where they were and just shout their numbers. Others darted around asking each individual what their number was. Leo didn’t need to use either to find his. With his first glance across the crowd, he settled his eyes on a person holding a card with the number one on it. With a triumphant smile, he weaved through the other counselors quickly so as not to lose sight of his partner.   

“Hey, I’m Leo. I think you’re mine,” Leo introduced himself, glancing quickly at the nametag on Logan’s chest before looking up at his face again. The action had become almost habitual already. 

Logan peered from under the brim of his hat. He had deep green eyes that Leo swore were looking into his soul as they swept over the length of his body.  “Yeah, I suppose you are,” the boy said eventually. “My name’s Logan, but I guess you already know that. Pleased to meet you.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Leo mumbled quietly under his breath. He had promised himself that he wasn’t going to do the cliched ‘summer camp romance’ thing. After all, he’d just gotten over the ‘closeted jock’ situation and that hadn’t been fun, to say the least. He wanted to be done with men for a very long time, but it didn’t hurt to look, right?

Before Logan could respond, Remus had gathered their attention again and they got swept away with learning how to recognise and assist the injuries and ailments that they were most likely to see over the coming weeks.

“Merde!” Logan gasped, pulling Leo from his thoughts. He figured that he had wound the bandage too tight around Logan’s arm.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he apologised, trying to remove it as quickly as he could. “Are you okay?”

Logan frowned for a second, “I am fine. Why would you ask that?”

“Was it not too tight?” Leo asked, gesturing to Logan’s arm, a little confused. 

Logan’s features knitted into a tighter frown before he seemed to have a realisation. “Oh, non. That was fine. Perfect. I will never bleed to death with you around,” he said, gesturing for Leo to do the bandage again so that Remus could inspect his work. 

“Okay…” Leo hesitated, “Why did you swear then?”

“You’re the angel,” Logan grinned, and Leo just grew more confused. Logan huffed out a laugh. “I believe you met my boyfriend yesterday. Tall...although, not as tall as you. Red hair. Bit of an idiot.”

“You mean Finn,” Leo smiled, remembering the boy from yesterday. “Wait. Did you say boyfriend?” 

Leo had been one of the people allocated to defend his team's flag. His back was to it, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blue, white and pink stripes. Dumo had taken the opportunity to educate the counsellors on the flags of different identities before letting each team choose which would be theirs for the game. A timid looking blonde girl had whooped so loudly before her pale cheeks had turned crimson that it had been a unanimous decision for their team to take the trans flag. 

It had been eerily quiet for a while when three people came crashing out of the trees. Leo recognised two of them; a Russian boy who had insisted everybody called him Kuny instead of butchering his name, and Jackson Nadeau. They were both on his team.The person they were chasing was not. Leo glanced to his right, checking that there was nobody coming from that direction before he tried to intercept the intruder. Leo had thought he was fast, but they had easily whipped past him and Leo was left watching them run. He didn’t have time to call out between seeing the rock and watching them fall flat on their face.  

“Are you okay?” Leo shouted, forgetting the game as he ran over to check they hadn’t hurt themselves too badly. He was worried that they weren’t moving, but just as Leo kneeled down, they groaned and rolled onto their back. 

“Shit,” Leo said, taking in the blood dripping down the pale skin. “Hey, I’m Leo. Can you tell me your name?” Leo asked, already knowing it was Finn from the name tag, but he wanted to check that the boy knew himself. 

“Fi-Fish,” the red haired boy slurred, blinking rapidly. “Am I in heaven?”  he asked, reaching up to cup Leo’s face.

“No, you’re at Camp Gryffindor. Not quite heaven, but pretty close,” Leo gave a nervous laugh. “Just stay still. We’re going to get somebody to help you.”

“You look like an angel to me,” Finn whispered, making Leo blush. He gave a little cough before looking up at Kuny and Jackson, who had joined him at Finn’s side. “Can one of you go and grab a medic, please?”

Leo had been meaning to check up on Finn. Both because he had been worried about him, but also because he hadn’t been able to get that red hair and those freckles out of mind all night. Finn was beautiful, of course he had a boyfriend. 

“Yeah,” Logan nodded, his smile widening a second. “My boyfriend who apparently met an angel last night. He’s not wrong.”

Leo scratched at the back of his neck before continuing to wrap the bandage around Logan’s arm. “How is he?” 

“He’s fine. He’ll have a headache for a few days, but Lupin fixed him up,” Logan reassured. He hummed and pulled at the grass with his unoccupied hand. “Wouldn’t shut up about the blue-eyed angel called Leo though. I tried to make him stay in bed today, but he insisted you were real. Seems you are.” 

Leo thought his face was going to permanently take on its new shade of pink with the amount of blushing he was doing. “Isn’t it weird for you? Your boyfriend calling me an angel?” 

Logan shrugged, “Non, he didn’t lose his eyesight just because we got into a relationship. Besides, I trust him.”

Thankfully, Remus chose that moment to join them, praising Leo’s work and making a few comments on how it could be made a little better. Once he had gone, Logan began to tell him about his life growing up in Canada as if the previous conversation had never happened. Leo wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or frustrated. 

In return, Leo told Logan about the cooking classes that had led him to applying to work in the camp kitchens that summer. He found that Logan was actually a good listener, and nearly ended up spilling the details of the drama that led him to taking those classes as a replacement for the hockey games he was due to be playing. Another time maybe. Leo wasn’t going to think about how much he hoped there would be another time. 

The rest of the morning session seemed to fly by after that, and soon Leo found himself saying goodbye to Logan in order to find Regulus for lunch. 

“I’ll see you around,” Leo smiled.

“Sure thing, mon ange,” Logan said easily, and Leo tried not to read too much into that.

[fluffymcu]

Confessions (Bucky x reader)

Okay so..... to my surprise, I was able to finish this fic tonight. @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss suggested I make this a funny fic with Bucky. I tried my best lol. I do my funniest in person, not in writing but hopefully you enjoy. Also the reader will be drunk. Again, I’m not at all good at writing drunk behavior. I’m 17 so I’ve never drank or been around anyone who is drunk. So I’m basing it off of what I would imagine being drunk would be, and of what I’ve seen in movies. :)) thank you.

You and Bucky were best friends. You were the one who helped him mentally recover when he escaped from hydra. He had met you in a gym. He was working out and...you were cheering your friends on from a bench. Eating. Donuts. Bucky found the scene to be quite funny so he confronted you, introducing himself and asking for a donut. You both got to talking and you had a lot in common. You know, except for being captured and tortured for years and the passion for fitness. That was 4 years ago. Your relationship has grown so much since. And you both had a slight crush on each other. And by slight, you mean giganticus.

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows as he dug into his pocket trying to take out his cellphone. When he took it out, his heart fluttered for a half second as he noticed there was a notification with your name on it. He opened it.

Ican’t stopp thinking abt uuuuu!❤️❤️❤️❤️💕💕💕💕💕💕❤️❤️💕❤️❤️❤️

He furrowed his eyebrows again at the text. Was it meant for him? Did you accidentally send it to him?

Y/n?

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😍😍😘🤣🥰😘🤣😝😛😛💕alllllll these guys here and I still only have eyesss 4u!

He wondered what could be the reason for these strange texts...and emojis. You never used emojis. Except for when you were....

Are you drunk?

Nop. You? Noppp I’m not even drinking. But I AM THINKING about uuuu! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️

Bucky sighed and got up from his couch and put his jacket on, ready to pick you up. He made sure to wear some comfy clothes since he had a feeling he was staying the night at your house.

Where are you?

Mmmmmm at the bar on 41st street. But I’m nottt drinking tho. Toatally sober :)))))

*tatally**

***totally** lollll

Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten.

Yayyyyy🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Bucky got in his car and pulled out from his driveway as fast as he could and made his way to 41st street.

Meanwhile, you were at the bar, dancing away and falling repeatedly on the floor. Random guys would help you up every time you fell. You would thank them, they’d ask you out, and you’d say you were taken. But only for today. Thank god they were drunk as well, so they believed your lie and left alone. About 10 minutes later, you fall once again, only to be picked up.

You’re about to thank the random man only to realize that this time, it’s Bucky. Your eyes light up and you squeal, wrapping your arms around him.

“Bucky!! You’re here!” Bucky wraps his arms around you to hug you back.

“Yeah, I am, doll. Let’s get you home okay?” He said, lifting you up bridal style. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gazed your glossy eyes into his.

“I’d go anywhere with you, Bucky Barnes.” You gushed. This making Bucky blush slightly. But you were too drunk to notice or call him out on it.

The ride home was relatively quiet. You were stretched out in the back seat, humming to no music and tracing shapes on the hood of the car. “So...sober, huh?” He chuckled. You giggled loudly and nodded.

“Yyyyup! 100 percent sober!” You slurred.

“Liar.” He scoffed. He finally pulled up to your apartment and helped you out of the car. Once you both got inside, you wobbled over to the fridge, immediately opening it and searching for food.

“Step away from the refrigerator.” Bucky slowly said. You turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“But... I’m hungry.” You whispered.

“I think you’ve had enough stuff in your body. You drank excessively and knowing you, you probably ordered everything on the menu; I still don’t understand how you don’t gain any weight. I don’t think you’re hungry, I think you’re bored.” Bucky said, leading you away from the refrigerator.

“Then entertain me!” You groaned. Bucky scoffed and lead you to your bedroom.

“It’s too late for entertainment, young lady, you need to go to bed. Come on. Get undressed while I get your pyjamas.” He walked torwards you drawers and picked out some shorts and a matching tank while you took off your heels. When you were just in your undergarments, Bucky, still facing away from you, passed you your pjs and you put them on, occasionally tripping over.

“Mkay, I’m done.” You sighed. Bucky turned around and layed you on your bed and tucked you in. You stared into his eyes shamelessly before sighing. “You’re so handsome.” Bucky looked down, blushing.

“That’s just the alcohol talking.” He murmured out loud; even though it was mostly directed towards himself. You shook your head and hummed.

“No. I mean it. I’ve liked you since I layed my eyes on you at the gym. I’ve loved you.” You smiled slightly. Bucky’s eyes met yours at your words. He stared at you for a second before snapping out of it.

“Right. Well, I’ll be in the living room if you need me. I’ll sleep on the couch. Goodnight y/n.” He smiled, leaving you to drift off into sleep.

He plopped down on the couch and thought about the words you had just told him. He didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to believe that it really was just the alcohol talking yet he never wanted anything more than for those words to be true. He needed to stop being afraid of being hurt, and let himself be happy. He smiled to himself, optimistic about tomorrow to see if you meant what you said.

The next morning, Bucky was up making breakfast for the two of you, waiting for you to wake up. He had a smile on his face, and a bounce in his step. It was now about 11:30 when he heard your dragged footsteps come out of your room.

He heard a long groan from your direction, making him smile widely. “Good morning, sleepy head!” He greeted, making sure to sound extra cheery to annoy you.

“Ughh, more like hungover head. What’s for breakfast?” You sighed. You looked over at the stove and saw eggs and bacon. You smiled then instantly frowned. “Did I have bacon?”

“No, I ran to the store real quick this morning and got some. I had already started the eggs when I noticed you didn’t have any.” You nodded your head and hummed.

You took a seat on the island and watched him cook. “So... do you remember anything from yesterday?” He asked, turning around to look at you for a brief second before attending the food again.

You thought back to the night before but couldn’t remember much. “Mm, not really. Just taking the taxi to the bar and then being in the backseat when you drove me home. Oh and I texted someone a bunch of emojis.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, you sent them to me.” Your eyes widened.

“Really?” Bucky nodded.

“And...” Bucky paused, making sure to get his words right. “You also described with detail your profound liking to me. Or well, quoting you: “love.” Your eyes widened even more as your face went completely red.

“What? No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you kinda did.” He pointed his finger at you with an apologetic smirk on his face.

“No. I couldn’t have. I know how to keep myself under control when I’m drunk.”

“Ehh, I beg to differ.”

“Shut up. No, you’re making this up.” You said, getting up and walking to the couch. You were so embarrassed. Suddenly everything that happened last night started flooding into your mind. The texts. The emojis. The flirting. The confessions. The confessions! You confessed your love for him! You swallowed thickly. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even realize that Bucky had sat down next to you.

“Hey, it’s okay. I-”

“I still think you’re making this up. I don’t even remember saying that.” Bucky chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“Come on, doll. I can show you the texts you sent me as proof. I know you remember. Just admit it. Come on.” He said, getting tired of going around in circles and poking your side, making you flinch.

“Don’t.”

“Admit it then.” He said with another poke. Your lips curling up a bit.

“But I didn’t say-”

“Yes you did.” He nodded. You smiled and tried to hide it by looking away. He then moved to your ribs, one of your worst spots, starting with a squeeze. You squeaked, and shuffled away from him.

“Bucky, I- I can’t. I don’t remember saying that.”

“Oh come on! Just admit it! Admit it so I can tell you I love you too!” Your eyes almost popped out of your eye sockets as you turned around to look at him.

“Wait, what?!” You weren’t allowed to think any further as you were now victim of a full blown tickle attack to you ribs.

“What??” Bucky asked, acting oblivious to what he’s doing.

“Whahahahahat?” You giggled hysterically, trying to wiggle out of his trap without success.

“What, what? I’m not saying anything else until you admit it. It’s easy.” He said nonchalantly, blowing a raspberry on your neck. You squealed and cackled when his hands traveled down to your hips, him pushing you down and straddling your legs. “It’s gonna get worse by the second y/n, admit it while you still can.”

You shook your head, jolting as his thumbs dug into the space right about your hips. “STOHOHOHOP! YOU CAHAHANT JUHUST DOHOHO THIS TO MEHEHE WHENEVEHEHER YOU WAHANT SOMETHING!” You slapped at his hands repeatedly.

“Yeah, but this is important. We’re confessing. Well, we would be if you weren’t being so stubborn!” He smirked before blowing a raspberry on your belly, making you cackle and kick out your legs. You groaned audibly.

“Arrrh, IM HUNGOVER!” You screamed all in one breath, making Bucky burst out laughing. “LEHEHEAVE ME ALOHOHONE!”

“You know I don’t give up easily, y/n/n. Just admit it already. I’ve already told you I feel the same way.” He said, slowing down, now only scratching lightly at your sides to keep you giggling.

“Okahahahahay! Okahahay, I admit it!” You sighed, pushing his arms away. Bucky chuckled but stayed on your lap.

“And that is...” you rolled your eyes.

“I love you, Bucky. I’ve loved you since I saw your sweaty self approach me at the gym and ask me for a donut all those years ago.” You smiled at the memory that felt like yesterday.

“You know, you made it sound much more romantic when you were drunk.” He squinted his eyes at you, laughing with you before leaning down and finally doing what he had been wanting to do to you for 4 years.

By that I meant kiss you. Come on, let’s keep it PG-13 guys. Thanks.

[shyvioletcat]

More Rowaelin firefighter au prompts: Rowan uses Aelin’s shower for some reason and Aelin overhears him singing in the shower and thinks that he has a lovely voice (and tells him that hehe)

All right my friends... I did not hold back on this. I was cracking myself up.

Materlist

~~~~~

When Aelin woke up she had a moment of panic when she couldn’t move. Then she realised why. 

Drunk Rowan had cuddled up to her while they slept. With him under her covers all barriers seemed to be removed and he had not only shifted over to her side of the bed but had also tangled his limbs with her held her against his chest.  

Aelin supposed she was not wholly innocent with her arm draped around his bare waist and her head on his chest. Aelin also supposed this didn’t feel too bad and may have laid there longer than she should have, relishing in the comfort of it. 

But Aelin had things to do. So as carefully as she could she extracted herself from Rowan’s embrace, grabbed some clothes and left the bedroom. 

~~~~~ Rowan struggled to open his eyes. He already could feel the headache building behind his eyes. He’d overdone it last night and thank the gods he didn’t have to work today. He stretched out and froze, remembering who’s bed he was in and froze. Opening his eyes he looked around and saw he was alone and resumed his stitching. 

When Rowan rolled over he saw a glass of water and a couple of aspirin on the bedside table, which he quickly downed. He felt like death and he needed a shower desperately. He got out of bed and looked down and saw he was wearing clothes that weren’t his. Confused Rowan just left the bedroom. Aelin was nowhere to be found. 

Rowan considered the walk to his apartment and it just seemed a little too far at the moment. He couldn’t function properly without a shower. So with Aelin out he decided he might just use hers then he’d be a human being again.

~~~~~ As Aelin entered her apartment she could hear the shower going. The space was so small it was hard to miss. She dropped her groceries on the kitchen bench and pulled out her prize find with a wicked grin. 

She was unpacking the rest of breakfast when she heard another sound. It started soft then got louder. 

“I just wanna take my time

We could do this, baby, all night,'Cause I want you bad

Yeah, I want you,”

Aelin stopped what she was doing to listen. Rowan was singing in the shower, and he wasn’t holding back either. 

“Slow, slow hands

Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry

No chance

That I'm leaving here without you on me”

Gods, he was good. The deep baritone of his voice was full and velvety but there was slight huskiness to it. 

“I know

Yeah, I already know that there ain't no stoppin'

Your plans and those

Slow hands

Fingertips puttin' on a show

Got me now and I can't say no

Wanna be with you all alone

Take me home, take me home”

Aelin stopped. Rowan had started to sing with renewed fervour. And his voice combined with the lyrics he was singing and the fact he was naked in her shower right now... Aelin suddenly felt a little too warm as his words conjured up certain images.

“Fingertips puttin' on a show

Can't you tell that I want you, baby, Yeah!Slow hands

Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry

No, no chanceThat I'm leaving here without you on me

I, I know

Yeah, I already know that there ain't no stoppin'

Slow hands”

Rowan stopped singing and then turned the water off. The sudden silence had Aelin moving again, quickly getting breakfast on so it didn’t look like she’d been standing around listening to the naked man in the shower sing about sensually moving hands. 

~~~~~

After his shower Rowan felt like a person who was mostly alive. There was still a slight pounding in his head but it was bearable. Luckily, Aelin kept some spare towels under the basin on a shelf. 

He admired how well Aelin kept her apartment despite the less than desirable lodgings. But she had nice little touches here and there, knick knacks and decorations that made the place homey. Once he dried off he slipped on his borrowed pants and stepped out of the bathroom while drying his hair. 

He heard noises in the kitchen and stopped, pulling the towel from his head. 

“Oh,” Rowan said as he saw Aelin slicing something at the kitchen counter. She was dressed in a tank and leggings, her cheeks slightly flushed, he assumed maybe she’d gone for a run or something. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Aelin said with a smile that usually meant she was about to say something to provoke him. “Especially if it means I get my own personal concert. You have a very lovely voice.”

Rowan felt his cheek heat. “You heard?”

Aelin just nodded, grinning like a fiend. “I got a you a hangover breakfast if you’re interested.”

Aelin turned and put something in a pan that started sizzling. Bacon. Definitely bacon. Rowan debating the offer for a moment, whether he should stay or not. But then shrugged. Why not?

“Sure. Thanks,” Rowan started walking towards the kitchen. 

“You wanna put a shirt on, hot stuff?” Aelin quipped over her shoulder.  

Rowan’s face kept burn. He went to the bedroom picked up the tshirt he wore last night, it was a bit stale but it would have to do. When he came back out of the bedroom Aelin was still at the stove cracking eggs. Rowan sat on the stool at the bench.  

Aelin slid a spatula under the eggs to stop them from sticking. “It wasn’t that I minded. I was just being considerate of your modesty.”

Rowan huffed a laugh, “Thanks.”

The toaster popped and Aelin places the slices before she turned around to face him, eyes bright. “You’re welcome.”

Rowan stiffened. She was planning something. He knew it. Exactly what, he didn’t know. 

Aelin went about getting the rest of breakfast and Rowan just waited for the axe to fall. But Aelin just got out what they needed for bacon and egg sandwiches. When she was done there was toast, eggs, bacon, cheese, a few relishes and mushrooms set out on the bench. They made their sandwiches, working casually around each other as the got what they wanted from various plates. Aelin even came to sit beside him once she’d made hers. 

“This is great, thanks,” Rowan said after he’d taken a few bites. 

“Breakfast food I can do. My waffles are the best but not as satisfying as bacon and eggs after a night out,” Aelin explained. “Why were wasted last night anyway?”

Rowan finished his mouthful. “We had our fitness test yesterday. We all passed by miles, and I keep my 2 IC position.” 

“That’s great!” Aelin said. “You know I think that calls for dessert.” 

Aelin got up off her stool and went into the fridge and placed two green toffee apples in front of Rowan. He looked at them confused. 

“I used to love green toffee apples how did you -“

Oh. Oh holy rutting gods. 

Aelin was grinning like a cat who had trapped the mouse in her elaborate plan. Rowan’s face felt like it was on fire.  

You look yummy he’d slurred last night in his drunken state. 

Oh gods. 

“Um...” Rowan rubbed at his face.

Aelin hadn’t stopped smiling. 

“Would you know what else Drunk Rowan did?”

Rowan didn’t. He really didn’t. “No thanks,” he mumbled. 

Aelin unwrapped her toffee apple and licked it. “Mmm, yummy.”

Rowan put his head in his hands and Aelin cackled. Then she patted him on the head. 

“Alright. Alright. I’m done. Go home Sober Rowan. I’ll see you tonight.”

~~~~~

Slow Hands by Niall Horan was the song Rowan was singing.

Tags:  @tangledraysofsunshine // @nalgenewhore // @highqueenofelfhame // @galyxsy // @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @http-itsrebecca // @highladyofthesith // @aelinfire-bringer // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @sleep-and-books // @3am-reading // @average-girl-at-best // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @rowaelinforeverworld // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @tswaney17 // @mydarlingfireheart // @rowansfirebringer // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @vanilla28 // @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @enquires-state-building // @im-not-rare-im-rarr // @your-high-lady // @mariamuses // @ttakeitbacknoww // @queenofxhearts // @vi0let-femmes // @kindofawalkingpoem // @sleeping-and-books // @armixers-unite // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @princess-galathynius // @heroesofterrasen // @ladyofstoriesandmusic // @unassumingsodalovesherbooks // @empire-of-wildfire // @brittneym15 // @camerooonchiu // @worldoffae // @mybbyfeyre //

[purplesurveys]

857

Your last ex finds out you’ve fallen in love with another person? I got back with my ex and I’ve only been ~in love~ with her, so this question doesn’t apply to me at all.

When’s the last time you were surprised? Today, because I SAW GABIE. After four goddamn months!!!!!!!!!!!! It was a big surprise to see her again, even if we did plan this out yesterday. I loved every bit of the brief time we had. Still giddy as fuck.

Would you fall apart if that last person you kissed walked out of your life? Realistically it wouldn’t be the end of the world but it would still suck and I would still be devastated, of course.

What is the last non-alcoholic beverage you had? Had water after finishing my dinner, just a few minutes ago. But I’m heating up some water so I can make coffee to drink for tonight.

Your mom finds used condoms in your room, you tell her? I’ll tell her it’s probably a prank from a friend, because it most likely would be. I’ve no reason to keep condoms, used or unused. Also I’d be pretty fucking pissed with such a prank and I’m likely to have a talk with that friend.

Do you prefer pasta salad, or coleslaw? I’d go with coleslaw, mostly because I do love it anyway and kinda because I’ve never heard of pasta salad.

Do you find smoking unattractive? I don’t find it ugly but it’s not necessarily attractive either. I don’t mind it, which is a far cry from what 18 year old anti-cigarette Robyn would’ve said.

Where’s the last place you went besides your house? I went to Gab’s house this afternoon. We played dress-up games, I bought from his dad’s small business (which sells theeee best Korean street food), she told me all about her internship and showed me the different softwares she uses, and she also introduced me to transcribing websites that can pay me a bit of money every hour because we’re both panicking about our futures hahahaha. Our activities were a bit of a rollercoaster but I fucking loved it. I was so happy for those three short hours.

If you were granted one wish, what would you wish for? I would love if I could get to dine in one of my favorite restaurants again.

Could you go for the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? Yes, I can. I’m not dependent on it and mostly drink it socially, except for the times I have bottles of soju in the fridge to drink when I’m alone and just wanna chill. Also, childhood trauma because of alcoholism in the family has made me pretty firm in my decision to not fall in too deep with my drinks.

Whose bed were you on last? Just mine.

When was the last time you changed in front of someone? March, probs? I don’t do that a lot except with my best friends.

Last person you kissed, have you cried in front of them? A few hundred times.

Do you trust all of your friends? Yes. To begin with, they’re my friends because I trust them.

Do you think the last person you kissed is nice? Yes. I don’t like it when she loses her temper because it takes a while for her to be in control of it, but 99.8% of the time she’s the nicest, sweetest, and most understanding person I know.

Does anyone call you babe? Just my girlfriend, I think.

Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months without cheating? Of course. Do you think the last person you kissed is a player? Well she’s only been with me and that’s been going on for a while, so I don’t know. We’ve had ‘what if we never got back together’ conversations though and she has told me that single!her definitely would’ve dated around and fooled around, so it’s possible that she could’ve been a player.

Could you go out in public looking like you do now? I would change my shorts. My tank top is decent; it’s actually meant to be worn outside but since it’s sleeveless and thin, I’ve taken to wearing it around the house so that I look cute here as well lol. I miss dressing up.

Do you believe exes can really ever be “just friends”? I do but I also don’t. Situation’s different for everyone.

Your ex wants you back? She did four years ago.

Would you rather love one person or have many short relationships? Just the one.

Anyone say they want to be with you forever? Mmm nope. It’s okay though, not really a fan of such dialogue. I’d rather she express this thought in different, less-cliche words.

Do you remember who you liked this time 3 months ago? Gabie.

Ever dated someone who was gorgeous but they had a conceited personality? No, I never thought of her as conceited.

Last person you had a deep conversation with? Again, Gabie. We had a brief but deep conversation about our plans for the short-term future, i.e. job-hunting, the possibility of freelancing for now, etc.

Is there a member of the opposite sex on your mind? Other than my dogs, no.

Did you reject or accept your last friend request? I ignored it for the meantime, haha. I don’t know who he is but we have tons of mutual friends apparently, so I’ll ask around to see if it’s safe to add him.

Would you prefer being locked in a room with your ex or your worst enemy? Ex, because that would also mean my current girlfriend and I’d never say no to being stuck in a room with her.

Have you kissed someone in ‘09 that means a lot to you? Didn’t kiss anyone in that year.

Do you want your ex to be happy, even if it means not being with you? I don’t have an ex but if I got into this situation with Gab it’ll be a hard-pill-to-swallow kind of situation. I’d ultimately let her go but like while I’d be bitter for a while, I would accept that it’s what she wants.

What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? That’s gonna be a huge breakthrough from a biological standpoint but I think I’d be more horrified than excited? I was traumatized enough by what happened in Eraserhead, so I’ll rush to the doctors first before celebrating lol.

Would you prefer a kiss on the cheek or neck? Neck.

Would it hurt seeing the person you last kissed kissing someone else? Yup.

If the last person you kissed bumped into you at school, what would you say? “what the fuck are you doing here”

Do you have a member of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? Andrew.

Do you believe your latest ex thinks about you? So tired of explaining the whole my-ex-is-now-my-girlfriend thing over and over lol so I might just skip questions like these if they still come up.

Has the last person you kissed, met your family? She’s met them but she’s just Gabie, Robyn’s best friend since seventh grade to my family.

Have you ever received a myspace message that made you cry? I was never active on Myspace.

Name someone whose name starts with the letter “L”: Liana, my successor in my vice-presidential position in my org.

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Yep.

Will you fall in love in the next month? I think staying in it is more apt to say.

You’re insanely drunk stumbling through the streets, slurring songs, who are you with? While I’d let myself get to that level of drunk, I definitely wouldn’t let myself go out in public because that’s just dangerous. But to slightly answer this question, I’m willing to get irresponsibly drunk with Kate, Aya, Jo, and JM. Probably not Luisa because the last time we got drunk together she held my hand and it felt so off and I just wanted to run to Gab and cry because I was so creeped out.

Next time you will kiss someone? I have no idea. In another four months, maybe?

Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? I think Gab. I just said I wasn’t ok and that I’ll just go to bed.

Do you like to cuddle? Only with my person.

If an ex said they hated you, you say? -

Do you know anyone who would just drop everything to come see you? No. I think that could get pretty unhealthy.

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t do? Tons of things. I’ve stopped saying I’ll never do this and that because I always end up doing so. In the last decade I’ve joined a college org, drank alcohol, smoked a cigarette, vaped, liked smoothies...list goes on and on.

Have you ever suspected anyone of cheating on you? Nopes.

Is there someone you used to talk to every day that you don’t talk to at all? Yeah, people have come and gone. Sofie, Athenna, Macy, Chelsea, Kaira, Fern, Gabe, Agatha, Sachi, Audrey, Angel, Andi...again. List goes on.

Could you ever be friends with the person who hurt you most in life? That would be my mom, and I am at best civil with her. We have good days but they’re rare at best. I don’t see myself ending up being best friends with her many years from now.

Can you have more than one best friend? Yup, I have two.

Has anyone said they love you in the last week? Mom, dad, Gab, Angela, Angela’s mom, and a bunch of people who congratulated me when I uploaded my grad photo on social media.

Last compliment you received? My hair.

Are you starting to realize anything? Now that I’m out of school for good and off to the real world? Absolutely.

Who was the first person you talked to today? My mom because she actually woke me up -_-

Do you think you can last in a relationship for 3 months? I’ve lasted a lot longer than that.

Have you ever known someone that just creeped you out? Yes. And my intuition turned to be right because they were recently officially reported for sexual harassment.

Do you hate it when people mispronounce your name? No because I don’t know how they can possibly mispronounce it; it’s pretty straightforward. I do get misspellings a lot but I’m not annoyed a lot by it because I understandably have the less-common spelling of the name.

[xxx-cat-xxx]

When you fall like a statue

Here’s some fun and fluff with Peter, Cap and a worried Irondad, based on this prompt:

Fighting off the latest alien invasion followed by an attack by Doom Bots was bad enough on the Avengers without two of their main players passing out for no apparent reason AKA when Cap and Spidey go 36 hours without eating while having overly heightened metabolisms.

Thank you to my beta @whumphoarder​ for putting so much effort into this fic!

“I need a cheeseburger,” Tony announces the moment Steve opens the door of the temporary shelter. “A big, greasy cheeseburger, two litres of coffee, and a few months of vacation on the Virgin Islands.”

“Then you've come to the wrong place,” Steve replies in a tired voice while following Tony back inside. “The bots destroyed our food storage. Even the granola bars melted.” The supersoldier grins a little, but his face is gray from exhaustion. He looks even worse than Tony feels.

“You good there, old man?”

“Yeah, just…” Steve raises his arms in a gesture of defeat, indicating the destruction around them of what was once the parking lot of an amusement park.

The Doom Bots did their job thoroughly. Being outnumbered as they were, the team was forced to spread out, so Tony took the kid with him to hunt down the Bots at the other end of the district. It didn’t help that the bots chose to enter just after the Avengers had successfully defeated an invasion of relatively dumb but highly explosive frog-like beings from outer space.

Tony stayed behind to supervise the clean-up while Steve did the same at the other end of town. That was more than a day ago, Tony realises with sudden clarity. No wonder Cap looked tired.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, eyeing the scratches and dents in the Iron Man armour.

Tony is reeling from exertion, every single joint aching. His right wrist is swollen to twice its normal size and there are more scratches and bruises on him than he wants to count (although Friday had counted them, much to his dismay). But truth is, he has seen much worse fights, and 36 hours without sleep is far from his personal record.

“Always, always,” he replies reassuringly.

Tony enters the shelter, just to stop dead upon seeing a familiar figure dressed in a red-and-blue spandex suit.

The eyes of Peter’s mask go wide upon seeing Tony. “Oh, shit,” he mumbles.

Tony feels his face go tight. “What on earth are you doing here?” he demands.

“Uhm…” The mask retreats, revealing a clearly exhausted Peter looking sheepishly back at his mentor.

“He helped with the clean-up,” Steve intervenes. “Without him, I’d still be stuck in a heap of rubble, trying to excavate a police car.”

“I sent him home to sleep yesterday.”

“He told me that you had asked him to come here!”

“And you didn’t bother to check with me?” Tony exclaims angrily. “You know we do have radios now, right? Modern communication, Cap, we’re not in the goddamn 1930s anymore!”

He knows that it isn’t technically Steve's fault that Peter snuck back to the battlefield, but Tony’s worry and frustration are reaching a breaking point. And Captain Almighty had always been a good target to let off some steam.

“How was I to know he wasn’t supposed to be here? Honestly, I was glad for any help I could get -it didn’t occur to me I’d have to double-check!” Steve protests.

“Uhm...I’m really, really sorry, but, could we maybe argue about this later?” Peter asks in a small voice. “Um, I'm not...feeling so great.”

Tony spins around. The boy is visibly swaying on his feet, colour draining rapidly from his face.

“Shit.” Tony is at his side in a few steps, grabbing him by the shoulders and guiding him down to sit on the ground. “Just what we need right now. What's wrong? Where did you get hit?”

“Please don't be mad at me,” Peter whispers, blinking rapidly with unfocused eyes. He actually looks a little bit scared, which only increases Tony’s concern.

“That’s gonna be decided later,” Tony declares. “But I definitely will be if you don't tell me what's going on.”

“I...haven’t eaten anything...for a while, I think.” Peter starts listing to one side, his eyes drooping.

Tony curses quietly. He keeps Peter upright with one arm and waves at Steve with the other. “Check the back room for food,” he orders. “Bruce always keeps emergency supplies in his locker.”

“Hmm,” Steve replies, his voice strangely off.

Peter’s eyes have drifted shut. “Hey, stay awake with me, kid,” Tony urges, tapping on the boy’s cheek. “Spangles?” he calls to the back room, “You found anything?”

The only reply is a loud thump.

“What on earth…” Tony says under his breath.

“Sir, it appears that Captain Rogers has lost consciousness,” FRIDAY’s voice informs him from his suit. Even she sounds beat. “It appears that he is suffering from hypoglycemia, similar to Mr. Parker.”

“How is this my life?” Tony mutters. “Call medical, I need a babysitter.”

“Already done, sir. Let me also inform you that the first aid kit located under the chair to your right contains glucose tablets.”

“At least that’s something,” Tony mumbles, reaching for the kit. He spies a half-empty bottle of Coke on the ground and reaches for it gratefully.

“Hey, kid. Open up.” He nudges the bottle against Peter’s lips. It takes a few attempts until the boy focuses on Tony with a low moan.

“Don't wanna…don’t feel good,” Peter slurs.

“Yeah, nausea is normal at this point. But that wasn’t a question. Drink.” He lets Peter take a few sips before pushing one of the glucose tabs into his mouth.

Peter swallows, then gulps, his sweaty face contorting in obvious discomfort.“'M gonna be sick,” he manages.

“Okay, hold on,” Tony sighs. He locates a plastic bag in the mess inside the shelter and holds it open under Peter’s chin. The kid takes a few shallow breaths before retching weakly. He brings up a mouthful of foul-smelling liquid.

“Ugh…” Peter moans. He coughs a few more times, spraying watery bile over the bag and both of their suits.

“It's okay. You'll be okay, kid,” Tony reassures. “I know you’re feeling sick, but you need to keep trying to drink something.” He offers the bottle again.

“'M not done yet.” Peter bends over the bag and heaves drily. A trickle of bile runs into the receptacle.

“There's nothing left in you,” Tony assures. “You're just nauseous because your blood sugar is tanking.”

“Hmm. Oww.” Peter wipes his mouth with a shaky hand and slumps back against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Don't you pass out on me,” Tony commands, his tone tinged with worry. He doesn't want to leave Peter, but he knows that he has to look after Steve at some point.

“Hold on, okay?” He picks back up the bottle of Coke and presses it into Peter's hand, making sure the boy is conscious. “Keep sipping, slowly.”

Peter gives a tiny nod, his eyes following Tony’s movements sluggishly. Tony makes sure that his protegè is stable in the corner and won't hit anything in case he does pass out, then goes to rouse the supersoldier.

Steve is out cold, but at least he only fell against a leather chair and didn’t hit his head on anything hard. It’s tempting to just let him lie there and focus on the kid until the med team arrives, but Tony knows that the longer his enhanced metabolism stays without food, the more danger he is in.

When a few attempts of calling his name and lightly shaking his shoulder don’t yield any results, Tony goes for the proverbial cold water approach, splashing handfuls of it onto the supersoldier’s face. Upon the third attempt, Steve rouses with a moan.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Uff,” Steve groans, squinting. “I did something embarrassing, didn’t I?”

“Yup,” Tony confirms, popping the p. “I didn’t even know it was possible for you to pass out. Wish I had it on film.”

He quickly strides over to Bruce’s locker and blows it open it with a small blast from his gauntlet that makes Steve flinch. Not strictly necessary, but Tony’s definitely at the end of his patience for today and blowing things up feels like an appropriate reaction. In the locker, he finds a yoga mat, a yo-yo, and a walkman (seriously, Bruce?), a couple of organic lemonades, and three equally healthy energy bars. Bingo.

Tony helps Steve sit up enough so that he can swallow some of the drink. He pushes it away after the second sip, clearly nauseous.

“Don’t you dare puke on my suit,” Tony warns.

“What, only the kid’s allowed to do that?” Steve chuckles weakly, nodding at the stains of bile on Tony’s armour. He takes a few deep breaths before trying another sip. “How long was I out?”

“Couple of minutes. Medics are on their way.”

“Is Peter okay?” Steve asks, clearly guilty.

“Well…lucky for him, someone was there to look after him instead of making him work harder.” Tony’s anger is slowly ebbing away, but he doesn’t regret when it comes out a little cross.

“Sorry,” Steve offers genuinely. He tries to sit up, but Tony pushes him back down, wincing when he jostles his injured arm in the process.

“You stay put until we get medical assistance. Not gonna wake you up again.”

He drops one of the energy bars into Steve’s lap and then returns to check on Peter. The boy is still pale as a ghost and seems to have sort of melted into his corner, but at least he has finished the soft drink and is looking a bit more alert than he was before.

“Hey, you back with me?” Tony inquires, letting himself fall down on the floor in a not exactly elegant manner.

The kid hums in agreement. “How’s Captain Rogers?” he asks, sounding concerned.

“Still alive, unfortunately.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Steve calls out from the back room. Peter laughs lightly.

Tony opens one of the energy bars and breaks off a piece to offer to the kid. “So, care to explain why you disobeyed my direct order - suggestion - and came here?”

“I was gonna go home, but then I realised that May would be working overtime at the hospital because of the attack, and I lost my key somewhere in the battle, and then I thought I’d be more useful helping with the clean-up than sitting in front of my own door-”

“You’re telling me that Spider-Man needs a key to get into his own apartment?”

“Maybe?” Peter blinks up at him, all innocence and puppy eyes.

“Don’t think for a minute that you’re getting away with that. We’re gonna have a talk, once you stop looking like you’re gonna faint any minute and I am out of danger of dying from a heart attack.” Tony clutches one hand to his chest dramatically. “Friday, when are the medics coming?”

“ETA four minutes and 30 seconds, sir.”

“Okay.” Tony should probably check on Steve, but his muscles vehemently protest any attempt to get up again. Instead, he shifts his position so that he is leaning against the wall next to Peter. The boy lets his head sink onto Tony’s metal-clad shoulder with a yawn.

“Do you know what?” he mumbles. “Today I pulled Captain America out of a rubble pile…Wish I could tell that to my classmates.”

That, finally, makes Tony grin.

Link to all my fics

[melodramaticfanatic-blog]

Alarm Clock - Bucky one shot

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: smut; 18+ warning. I regret nothing but this is very little plot and mostly naughty. Oh, also, I didn’t proof read this at all. I wrote it, pasted it and posted it so...

Summary: Reader always seems to oversleep

A/N: HEY! This is what I did today (among other things). Enjoy it. Also, for upcoming work please let me know who you want to see appear in a multifandom project I’m working on! 

I’m working on a BUNCH of stuff right now but I want to give you all what you want; help me do that! Feel free to drop in my asks if you wanna stay anonymous 

Gif not mine, credit to owner

The knock on the door was quiet to the point of barely being a knock. It was more a slight tap, too shy and hesitant to really be called anything else. Bucky stood in the hallway shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Leave it to Steve to pressure him into waking you up. Sure, you two were friends and he’d spent time in your room before (late night movie sessions or just hanging out and talking privately always happened in your room instead of his because it was so much more homey and comfortable than his practically empty suite) but that didn’t necessarily mean that he was ready to invade your space and drag you out of unconsciousness. He knew how pleasant sleep could be and really didn’t want to be the one that took that happiness away from you. Still, Steve said it was time for training and what the Captain wants, the Captain gets...one way or another.

“Y/N?” Bucky called softly with another unsure knock. “Doll, you awake?”

Still no answer. Not even a rustle of bedding could be detected with his enhanced senses. With a deep sigh, Bucky resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to do this the hard way and he reached out to open the door, slipping his large body inside the moment the gap was wide enough for him.

“Sweet Jesus!” Bucky’s eyes went so wide he was shocked that they didn’t pop right out of his head and roll away. It took every bit of will power in him to drag his gaze away from your form and up to the ceiling. Who in the holy hell sleeps with their legs spread wide open like that?! His breathing was unsteady and he was mouthing a prayer low under his breath as he thought about what his Ma would say if she knew what was going on in his head at this moment. Seemingly of their own volition, his eyes returned to you.

You were soundly asleep, laying atop the soft sheets with limbs spread in every direction, your chest rising and falling slowly in a deep, steady rhythm. Bucky’s gaze traveled over your messy hair, haloed around your head from how you had been rolling your sleep, down the delicate curve of your neck and to the swell of your breast. The sheets that had probably started out covering you were bunched to the side, another byproduct of your overnight tossing, leaving him with a clear view of the tank top and small cotton boy shorts you had worn to bed. He could clearly see the peaks of your nipples through the thin material and he had to shut his eyes for a moment as his body began to tremble slightly.

Alright, so Bucky may have a little thing for you. Just a couple of feelings that ranged beyond the platonic appearance he tried to maintain. It wasn’t really much. Just that he was crazy about you. Infatuated. Deeply and totally in love with you and he wanted to have his way with you in every room of the compound. That was normal, right?

From over on the bed, Bucky heard a low moan and it made his knees weak. Goddamnit if this went any further he was going to embarrass himself.

“Bucky?” Your voice was still slurred slightly with sleep. “‘Sgoing on?”

“Uh, hey, Doll,” he said with a shaky laugh, prying his eyes open again. “Stevie sent me to get you. Looks like you overslept for training again.”

You groaned and threw your arm over your eyes (which may have caused your breasts to bounce in the most appealing way Bucky had ever seen). “That man has no respect for sleeping in.”

“Not even a bit of respect…” Bucky trailed off as his gaze returned to its previous journey down your body. The way that you were shifting as you stretched had caused the tank top to ride up slightly, baring a thin strip of your flesh in between the hem of the shirt and the top of your boy shorts. Bucky desperately wanted to drag his lips over that space, kissing every bit of exposed skin while murmuring how much he loved and wanted you. Even worse (or better? Sooooo much better...god, he was definitely going to hell, sorry Ma) was the fact that the movement had pulled on your shorts in a similar manner, pressing the fabric more tightly against your flesh. With your legs still splayed across the bed and Bucky still standing at the door across from you, he could clearly see every dip and curve of your core through the thin material. He shifted uncomfortably again, trying to rearrange his raging hard on without you noticing.

“Say, uh, Doll-” he cleared his throat as he tried to decide what exactly he wanted to say.

“It’s alright, Buck. I’m up now.” You lowered your arm from your face with a resigned sigh and swung your legs over the side of the bed so that you were in a sitting position. “I’ll get changed and meet you guys in the gym in ten.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆

That day had been a hard one for him. Steve had managed to hit him in the head several times while they sparred because he was too distracted by watching you to keep his guard up. Then you had decided to stretch right in front of the heavy bag while he was in the middle of his sequence. Thanks to the way you bent over and put your ass on display, he now owed Stark another bag to replace the one he had mangled. Both you and Steve had noticed his odd behavior and questioned him several times, trying to make sure that he was alright. Every time someone commented on it, Bucky simply claimed he was tired and hadn’t slept well. A believable lie considering he often didn’t sleep well but a lie all the same. All in all, it was a relief to slip away and hid out in his room, his thoughts a maelstrom of indecision and you.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Bucky got up earlier than normal the next morning. Now he could honestly say that he hadn’t slept well. Thoughts of you had kept him awake most of the night along with the dull ache that those thoughts caused in his groin. Bucky had desperately wanted to close his eyes and picture you (he could remember every detail of what he had seen so perfectly) while getting himself off but the thought also made him feel so wrong. It was a total invasion of your privacy. He was supposed to be a gentleman (and your friend!) and taking advantage of the fact that he had seen you so vulnerable was not how a gentleman behaved (no matter how much said gentleman’s body might want him to). As a result of his restless night, Bucky was in the kitchen already steadily depleting the coffee pot when Steve arrived.

“Hey, Buck! You’re up early,” the blond mused as he walked into the kitchen wearing his navy sweatpants and tight grey shirt. Did Steve even own any shirts that fit him? Bucky had been meaning to ask. “Ready for a run?”

“Sure, Stevie. Just the two of us today?”

“Sam and Y/N are coming too. I asked last night.” Steve filled a mug of his own and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Actually, they should be down here by now. Wonder what’s keeping them?”

A bit too quickly, Bucky set his empty mug into the sink and pushed his body away from the counter where he had been leaning. “Why don’t you see about Sam and I’ll go check in on Y/N?”

Steve raised his eyebrows and shot his friend a confused look but Bucky was already halfway out of the kitchen.

“You know how she loves her sleep,” he continued with an unconvincing laugh. “I’ll bet she’s still in bed.”

“Uh- Ok, pal. Just uh- meet us outside?”

Bucky gave a wave over his shoulder and practically jogged down the hallway towards your room. The entire trip he tried to convince himself that he was just being a good friend. Just making sure that you hadn’t overslept and that you got enough exercise. He was definitely not trying to catch another glimpse of you in bed. So if his knock on the door happened to be even more quiet than it was yesterday, that was only because he didn’t want to scare you. It had absolutely nothing to do with his desire to be in the room once more while you spread out over the mattress like a dream.

After waiting about 30 seconds without an answer or a sound behind the door, Bucky concluded that you must still be asleep. Looks like it was his role (no, his responsibility as your friend!) to come in and wake you up. Just like the day before, Bucky held his breath and slipped inside the room as quietly as possible.

“Nnngrrr-” the sound of the groan that he let out was barely human. It sounded much more akin to an animal in pain but damn it- how were you wearing LESS than you had been yesterday!? This tank top seemed to be made of a thinner material than yesterday’s had been and it looked like you had purposefully bought it a size too small so that it hugged each and every curve obscenely (had you been taking fashion advice from STEVE?!). Even worse (better!! SO MUCH BETTER!!) was the change in panties. Gone were yesterday’s boy shorts. Instead you had donned a pair of lacy underwear that barely covered anything and, wait….was it a thong?! Oh, it was definitely a thong. If Bucky bent his knees just slightly he could easily see the thin strip of material disappearing between your folds because you were, once again, sprawled wantonly across the bed. He felt as though he had been transported into a cartoon and any moment a literal angel and devil were going to appear on his shoulders. He couldn’t decide which part of his brain was louder: the half screaming for him to stare at you and touch you and taste you and never let you go or the half screaming for him to behave, turn around, look at the ceiling and respect your privacy.

For now, the respectful side won. Bucky lifted his gaze to your face and studied it as he called your name. His eyes drifted over the arch of your brow, watching the way it furrowed slightly as he retrieved you from your dream, the high plane of your cheekbone, the sharp line of your nose and the plump curve of your lips. He stopped there and just stared for a few moments, tracing over the contours of your mouth and imagining all the things he wanted to watch them do, all the sounds he wanted to cause to fall from them, all the words he wished they’d form. You smiled slightly as you began to wake and he couldn’t help but mirror your expression, taking a step closer to the bed.

“Doll?”

“Mmm…” you let out a whiny little moan that caused him to chuckle.

“Looks like I’m your alarm clock again, Y/N.”

“Don’t wanna get up,” you said with a mock pout to your voice. “Wanna stay in bed all day and cuddle.”

“Next time don’t tell Steve you’ll go on a run then, silly.”

Your eyes opened slowly and found him still standing between the door and your bed. “But you’re going on the run.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say to that. Is that why you trained with Steve even though you hated getting up early and he was the king of the morning people? You did it to be with him!?

“Alright, alright my own personal rooster. I’m awake.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and sat up again, running a hand through your hair as you gathered in up into an elastic. “But after the run, I’m eating my weight in pancakes.”

Bucky’s low, rumbling chuckles died out the instant you stood up and strolled over towards your bathroom apparently unconcerned that he could see every bit of your ass as you passed by him with a pronounced sway in your step.

“Ma, give me strength,” he gasped as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, willing off the latest in a series of raging erections you had caused.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

“So uh...what’s going on with you and Y/N?”

Bucky nearly fell on his face when Steve asked him that the next morning before breakfast. “What? Nothing. Nothing’s going on, Stevie. Why would you think that something is going on?” Smooth, Barnes. Very smooth. Since when was Steve the one that remained cool under pressure?

The blond gave a nonchalant shrug and continued staring at Bucky over his cup of coffee, steam rising in front of his piercing blue eyes. “Well, for starters there’s the fact that it’s been taking you about a half an hour each morning to wake her up-”

“She’s a heavy sleeper.”

“- and you’ve been exceedingly ready to do just that every morning, by the way.”

“I, uh-I like making fun of her bed head,” Bucky tried to lie smoothly but he sounded more ridiculous by the moment he knew.

“Sure, pal. So I suppose you just tripped over a loose piece of pavement when you fell yesterday, right? Wouldn’t have had anything to do with the fact that your eyes were so glued to her you weren’t paying any attention to where you were going?”

Bucky could feel the flush creeping over his cheeks and knew that he was going to be bright red soon if he wasn't already. He had really taken a spill on the run the previous morning (in fact, he even had bruises from it) and Steve had nailed the reason why. You had just looked so amazing, running in front of him in your tight leggings and sports bra, your hair glimmering in the sun as you laughed at whatever Sam was saying. The stupid bird insisted on running with you and making him and Steve run together, saying that it was only fair since neither of them would be able to keep up with a super soldier. If Bucky could have just been next to you, he never would have fallen. It was only because he was so focused on what you were doing and hearing your laugh that he didn’t pay attention to where he set his feet.

“No clue what you mean, Punk.” Bucky pushed himself away from the counter and stared down at the ground, avoiding Steve’s incredulous expression as he tried to escape the kitchen again.

“Well, I hate to encourage this but Y/N said she wanted to get up early and surprise Tony with breakfast today. Something about a thank you present for him. You want to-?”

The words hadn’t even left his friend’s mouth before Bucky was nodding and waving goodbye to him. “On it!”

This morning trip down the hallway to your room was rapidly becoming one of his favorite moments of the day. It gave him just enough time to think about all the things he loved about you (how soft you were, how kind, how smart, how funny, how you never treated him like he was different or a monster or broken) and built up his anticipation for what might happen today. It was a wonderful thing that feeling of possibility, something that had been missing from his life for longer than he could remember. The open ended what if that suddenly had so many fabulous answers. Bucky barely tapped on the door at all anymore before sliding himself into your room with a gentle sigh. It was like he was coming home. He always took care to close his eyes and delay the moment when he would get to enjoy your beautiful form. Made sure that he was in the room with the door closed and only he could see you before landing his steely gaze on your body. He always thought he was mentally prepared...he never was.

“Grrrrhh!” Did he just fucking growl?!

You were going to be the death of him. Every other morning you had been on your back. Your limbs had been all over the place and you’d given him a show, sure, but always from the same angle. Not today though. Today you had decided to murder him where he stood. You were on the bed on your stomach, arms crossed under the pillow that rested under your head. The sheets were, as always, cast off to the side, revealing every inch of you to his ravenous eyes. And this morning it really was EVERY inch. There was not a stitch of fabric covering your body and Bucky’s eyes traveled the delicate curve of your spine down to the full roundness of your ass. Was he crazy or were your hips pressed slightly into the air? It certainly looked like your back was arched. His knees were trembling as he leaned back against the door and Bucky could feel his pounding heart over every bit of his body, almost as though his entire form was throbbing with the desire for you. The more his knees buckled, the lower he slid against the door. The lower he slid, the better his view got of your core...your glistening core. His head thumped back against the door and another growl left his mouth as his hands wrapped into fists at his side. You were wet. He could so easily just- no. Nope. Not an option. Time to think about some saints and his Ma and things that were definitely not at all sexy.

“Buck?” You said his name with a sleepy slur and stirred slightly.

“Yeah, Doll, it’s me.” Damn, get control Barnes. His voice was low and raspy. If he wasn’t careful you would certainly notice something was up (and it was DEFINITELY up).

“Whas’going on?”

Bucky approached the bed slowly and pulled the sheet over your bare ass, covering as little of your perfect (well, perfect to him) body as possible but still trying to be kind as the two sides of his mind battled over you. “Steve said you wanted to be up early? This oversleeping thing has kinda become a habit, sweetheart. You feeling ok?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, sleepily, turning your head to face him but not moving from your position. “‘M fine.”

“Getting enough sleep at night? Going to bed at a decent hour?”

“It’s so sweet that you look out for me, Buck.” You chuckled softly and flashed him a warm smile that made his heart thump against his ribcage. “Just keep missing my alarm is all.”

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to it then, Doll.”

Just as he went to turn and head out, you let out a low moan and he felt your soft fingers circle around his wrist.

“Actually, Buck, can you help me out?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak, not when his pulse was going haywire at your touch, so he just looked back to you and nodded when he saw that your eyes were open.

“I’ve got this terrible crick in my neck; I think I must have slept wrong. Can you rub it out for me?”

Rub. It. Out. (Don’t growl, don’t moan, don’t cum in your pants). Bucky tried his best to react like a normal human being might. He nodded stiffly and sat down on the bed next to your hip, brushing his fingers over your skin as he pushed your hair out of the way. You let out a soft little sound, almost like a purr, and he had to remind himself again (don’t growl, don’t moan, don’t cum in your pants). He let his fingertips ghost over your soft skin once more, enjoying the way goosebumps seemed to form in his wake (though that was probably just because of the cool touch of his vibranium arm). He was careful to apply only the lightest pressure, his hands resting against your shoulders while his thumbs rubbed soft, soothing circles into your neck. He let the calloused pads travel up towards your hairline and then back down again, shivering slightly as you let out that low purr like sound.

“Mmm...a bit harder, Bucky?”

It took everything in him to remember his mantra that time and his hands gripped onto you more tightly as he fought for control over himself. Luckily, this forceful grip met your approval and you let out a soft gasp.

“Yeah, just like that.”

Bucky began praying under his breath as he squeezed and rolled your shoulders, trailing both his metal and flesh hands over your skin. You felt so perfect to him, so soft and supple and smooth. Each movement was as fluid as the ocean, each touch as delicate as velvet. He let the rest of the world slip away and put all of his attention on your delicate back, worshipping you as best he could.

“Did you both die or- whoops!”

Bucky turned to see Sam standing in the doorway with Steve just behind him, both men wearing identical expressions of shock and embarrassment.

“They’re fine, you’re fine, we’re leaving!” Steve was pulling at Sam’s arm in an effort to get him out of the room while your head poked around Bucky’s body and you began to laugh.

“Relax, weirdos. I had a pulled muscle or something in my neck. Bucky was just giving me a hand. Nothing inappropriate going on.”

“Of course not!” Bucky agreed, pulling slightly on his sweatpants. (It was absolutely true as long as him having thoughts that would make a porn star blush and pitching a huge tent didn’t qualify as inappropriate.)

“Alright, well, whatever y’all were up to is none of my business,” Sam said with a knowing wink. “Just wanted to let you know that Tony is up and about.”

“Awesome! If you boys wouldn’t mind making yourself scarce, I gotta put some clothes on so I can get to cooking.”

Bucky stood up quickly and began shepherding Sam and Steve out immediately.

“Well, wait a damn minute! Hold on now- she wasn’t wearing any-”

“OUT BIRD BRAIN!!”

☆☆☆☆☆☆

He needed an excuse. Any excuse to go to your room and wake you up. Only for the first time, he didn’t have one. Steve hadn’t mentioned any training. Breakfast was already made. Sam was busy doing whatever the hell he did when he wasn’t annoying Bucky and you...well, you just were missing. Was that a good enough excuse? He tried to play the scenario out in his mind (oh, hi, Doll, just wanted to stop by and make sure you’re awake for no specific reason and also, hey what’d you wear to bed last night?). Nope, he needed a reason.

“Hey, Steve?”

“I haven’t seen her.”

Bucky froze and looked over at his friend with wide eyes.

“That was what you were gonna ask, right?” The blond man asked, glancing up from the newspaper he was reading. “If I’d seen Y/N? Or maybe more accurately, if I needed to see her and give you a reason to head to her room?”

He could feel his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as if he had turned into a giant fucking goldfish.

“Buck,” Steve said with a low chuckle and a shake of his head. “Just go pound on the door and tell the woman you love her. Then buy her a damn alarm clock.”

That seemed like advice worth taking. Bucky was on his feet and moving down the hall only a heartbeat later. This time when he came to your door he didn’t bother knocking at all, he just slipped it open and slid his body inside, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Hey, Doll, I-UUuuuuggghh!”

The. Fucking. Death. Of. Him. That’s what you were going to be.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

You were waiting for him. Of course he was going to come to your room, it was practically routine at this point. Since you knew that, you decided to have a little fun with him. There were probably easier ways to get what you wanted but he had been so cute and flustered that first day when he saw you in bed. That time had been a complete accident but after seeing his reaction...well, maybe you just wanted to see how he’d respond to a little more. Teasing was over now though, which is why you were sitting completely naked on your bed, one leg draped off the side of the mattress, the other bent at the knee and propped up so that the door, and the gorgeous man in front of it, had a perfect view of your glistening sex as you swirled your finger in languid circles over your clit.

“Gonna just stand there, Sarge, or are you willing to lend a hand?”

Bucky was leaning against the door where he had sagged upon seeing you. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as his eyes darkened, the irises overtaking the arctic blue that surrounded them and his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His dark hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck but rogue strands had come loose and framed his angular face perfectly. As his jaw clenched under his dark beard, you couldn’t help but think how much you wanted him between your legs, which resulted in your hand moving with a little more force and a small whimper leaving your lips.

It was the sound that seemed to bring Bucky back. His eyes left your core to connect with your face and then he was striding over to the bed, the picture of confidence and determination as he reached one hand behind his head and pulled his shirt off effortlessly baring his glorious torso to you.

“Hand, mouth, cock...you ask for it and it’s yours, Doll,” he said in a low growl. “I’m yours.”

Your finger slipped over your slit as you whimpered again and Bucky watched in fascination as one slender digit pressed inside your folds.

“So beautiful...you like teasing me, don’t you, Doll? You like giving me a show?”

You nodded as your body shook slightly. The sound of his voice was pushing you closer and closer to release and you started to buck your hips into your hand slightly as a result.

“I want to watch you. I want to see you make yourself come while you think about me.” His blue eyes were burning into you and your head fell back to the bed on a long moan. “Will you do that for me, beautiful?”

“Yes...fuck, yes Bucky!”

He repositioned himself so that he was near the end of the bed, between your legs and looking up the length of your body. “Let me see you come, Doll.”

How could you refuse when he asked so nicely? You twitched your finger up and pressed against your g-spot just as Bucky reached out with his metal hand to caress your leg. The sensation of the cold digits along with the pressure inside you brought you over the edge and your body shook as pleasure released over you in waves, your back arching and eyes closing as you moaned.

Bucky began kissing slowly up your leg, taking his time and enjoying the slight salty taste that came from the thin sheen of sweat over you. “That,” he planted a kiss between each word, “was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Doll.” He reached your knee and kissed the back of it gently, his teeth nipping lightly and making you moan unexpectedly. No one had ever paid attention to the soft flesh there before but Bucky could already play you like a master. Then his hands were spreading your legs even wider, making room to accommodate his broad shoulders. “I want to see it again.”

Those six words immediately put you back on edge as Bucky grinned up at you wickedly, his azure eyes sparkling before he lowered his mouth to the apex of your thighs and licked a long stripe up your still sensitive folds. He practically growled at the taste as you moaned and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Sweeter than candy, Doll,” he murmured against you before sucking your bundle of nerves between his lips and giving it a sharp flick with his tongue. Bucky began eating you out like a man possessed. He licked and nipped and lapped against you with such fervor you were instantly a writhing mess under him. Moving quickly, the gorgeous man between your legs lifted each thigh and placed them over his shoulders to give himself more access to you, one arm snaking around your hip to hold you down and his other hand went to your core. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you when you felt a cold vibranium finger circling around your entrance teasingly. Bucky smiled against you before beginning to suck on your clit as he eased his digit inside of you. You arched off the bed and mewled helplessly, clutching onto his long locks and pulling slightly which only spurred him on.

“I wanna see it again,” he repeated on a low growl before gently grazing his teeth over your nub as his finger worked in and out steadily, each time brushing over your most sensitive place.

His voice, his actions and that dangerous look in his eye were enough to push you into another orgasm and you came hard, clenching tightly around his finger while yanking on his hair. Bucky didn’t stop his ministrations until you stilled, working you through your pleasure before withdrawing from you. He smiled slightly as you hissed when he pulled his hand away from you. Adjusting himself carefully in his pants, Bucky climbed up the bed and placed his body next to yours, kissing your temple softly. You glanced over at him in confusion.

“Why aren’t you fucking me right now?”

He let out a low chuckle and kissed you again. “I can wait. You look a little tired...and sore.”

“James Buchanan Barnes, I have been waiting for you to fuck me since the day that we met. I am not too tired or sore. I am crazy in love with you! Please, please, please!” You knew that you were begging but for the love of god! You needed him to fuck you this minute.

“You-you love me?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that. “Yes, Bucky. I love you. I’m in love with you. I thought that-” Suddenly, you felt a little uncomfortable. You thought for sure that Bucky felt the same way about you as you did about him. Were you wrong? “Was this-is this just about sex for you?”

“Wha-NO!” Bucky shot up in bed next to you, his face alarmed. “Of course not, Doll! I was coming in here to tell you that I’m in love with you and beg you to be my girl when I found you all laid out and looking delectable. You’re everything I want in this life.”

A small giggle left you and you cuddle up against him. “Is that so?”

“Sure as hell is, Doll.” He twisted a piece of your hair around his finger and kissed your forehead lightly. “So will you? Be my girl?”

“I’ve been your girl for months, Buck, but we can make if official,” you replied with a smirk.

Bucky leaned down and brought his lips to yours kissing you with all the passion and love that was threatening to burst from his overflowing chest, his hand cupping your jaw and moving you into the perfect angle that allowed him to deepen the kiss. “Just think, Doll, now you never need to set an alarm again.”

You gave a small scoff. “Bucky, I told FRIDAY to cancel every alarm I had the day you came in here to wake me up. Who needs them when I have my very own rooster?” Your hands began to trail over his muscular chest. “Say, ya know what another word for a rooster is?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smirked at you as your hand descended to his belt buckle.

“Cock!”

Permanent tags:  @shadyskit @lokislittlewarrior​  @secretoktober   @member-of-the-marvel-army   @michelehansel   @jcalpha1  

Marvel tags: @ifyousayyouloveme

If you want to be added or removed, let me know!

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (28)

Be cool

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: 4,350 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up basically where we left off, during the last night in the cabin, starting with Amara’s POV. This chapter is a little slow, but it sets up several things that will be important for what will happen next!

*****

Amara had gone back to the kitchen for the umpteenth time to make more margaritas. And to think she’d made fun of Drake for buying so much booze.

Dinner had been amazing, Drake truly hadn’t lied about his grilling skills. Even Hana, who was always poised and polite, had asked for thirds, and downed one burger and two hot dogs. Olivia had begrudgingly agreed that the mushrooms and leeks on top of the burgers were a nice touch.

Armed with two pitchers of margarita and her pineapple and coconut cake on a tray, Amara made her triumphant entrance in the backyard. As everyone cheered for her to fill up their glasses, she caught herself worrying for their livers, but promptly remembered that, if everything goes to shit tomorrow at Penelope’s estate, this may be their last fun night, so cirrhosis be damned.

‘Amara! This cake is heavenly,’ Hana gasps.

‘Oh, honey, you don’t have to say that,’ Amara responds. ‘I’m not the best cook--’

‘Shut up, Suarez, and give me another slice,’ Olivia cut her off.

‘Guys,’ Max says, his mouth full of cake, ‘let’s continue, it was Liv’s turn to dig into the bowl.’

They had started a game of Truth or Truth, for which they had written deep questions for one another on little pieces of paper, and mixed them in a bowl. Olivia rolls her eyes but picks up a paper.

‘When was the last time you were in love,’ she reads.

‘Oh, that’s my question!’ Hana beams.

‘Kid, you know we all have to answer, right?’ Olivia says. ‘You included.’

Hana blushes. ‘Oh, I didn’t realize that.’

‘I’ll go!’ Max says enthusiastically. ‘Drake, you remember Gianni, right?’

Drake nods, ‘I fucking loved that guy. He was hilarious.’

‘Yeah,’ Max says wistfully. ‘I thought we were more serious than he did. He ended up going back to Italy and breaking my heart.’

‘Max, I’m sorry, that sucks,’ Amara says as she reaches to hug him.

‘Your turn, Suarez,’ Olivia interrupts.

Amara blushes. She feels like a schoolgirl playing Spin the bottle. Are they really gonna make her say it in front of everyone? ‘Guys… you know.’

‘Ooooooh,’ Max teases, ‘no we don’t!’

Amara throws her hands up. ‘Well, obviously it’s Drake. Last time I was in love is now, with Drake. Happy?’

Drake reaches for her cheek and brings her face to his. Their mouths crash together in a sweet, yet urgent kiss.

‘Same answer for me, bitches,’ Drake slurs. ‘My last time is also now, with Amara.’

She knows he’s drunk. When else has he called anyone ‘bitches’ as a term of endearment? But then again, she’s drunk too, and so blissfully happy that she couldn’t care any less.

‘Alright, you guys are fucking gross,’ Liv says, waving her hands at them as if to shoo them. ‘Lee, your turn.’

Hana blushes again, and takes a big sip of her margarita. ‘Damn, Amara, these drinks are good. Thank you for making them strong. Well, you guys remember the infamous photo, right?’ Everyone nods, and she continues. ‘I told some of you that this woman, Caroline, was kinda...the one who got away. We were together at Oxford. After graduating, I had to go back to China, or, to be more exact, I didn’t have the guts to stay in the UK and defy my parents. So, I broke up with her, said I wasn’t ready, right before our third anniversary. She had booked us a trip to New York as a surprise, which I found out after, through a mutual friend. In any case, I didn’t break up with her for lack of love. More like...for lack of courage.’

Max holds out his arms and Hana pulls him into a hug. ‘Hana, babe, there’s nothing harder than coming out to tough parents. You didn’t lack courage, it was simply not the right time!’

‘Exactly,’ Amara chimes in, ‘look at how brave you were in front of the whole court the other day. A fucking champ! Because now is your time.’

‘You think?’ Hana sniffles. ‘I mean, I basically didn’t have a choice…’

‘Yes you did,’ Amara continues. ‘You could have denied it, said that it was a fake picture, or said it was a joke among friends. But you took the high road, and we’re so proud of you.’

‘Ok, this game took a turn,’ Liv sighs. ‘I didn’t think it would end in a group hug.’

‘Well then,’ Max replies, ‘you go ahead, Liv, answer the question.’

Olivia quickly glances at Amara, who gives her an encouraging smile. For a split second, Amara thinks she’s gonna be truthful and open up about her feelings. But, after a brief pause, she says ‘Nope. No heart, remember? Icy Nevrakis bitch here. Nothing to see. Next!’

*****

‘Babe, we’ll clean up in the morning,’ Drake whispers in her ears, his arms draped around her waist as she does some dishes.

‘I want to help,’ she says, leaning into his embrace, ‘I know you have to get up early, to go to the grocery store and get ready for Liam and Bertrand coming over.’

He kisses her neck. ‘I don’t mind. I like it. Besides, you made all of the drinks all night long, which was by far the biggest job of all, given this crowd.’

She chuckles. The sound of her laugh makes his heart full. He hates to admit it, but the glowing heart imagery from Jane the Virgin is spot on.

She says, ‘I know you like entertaining, but I don’t mind doing a few dishes. It’s not even that late. Please, let me help.’

He takes a kitchen rag. ‘Alright, then I’m gonna do the drying. Team work, right?’

*****

Olivia turned on her phone for the first time for a few hours. After what happened with it, the mere thought of sending a text filled her with dread, but she had to check her email at least, in case something was needed from her at Lythikos.

She plops down on the bed, and unzips her dress while her phone turns on. It’s strange to be here, at the Walker cabin, but especially in Savannah’s room. Maxwell and Hana had called the Master bedroom, which had a king bed. They had rightfully assumed that Liv would rather cut off her own arm than share her bed with either of them. But still, in here, she feels like she is sharing it with Little Savannah Walker, whose spirit is all around.

She wonders if she had contributed, even minimally, to sending her away. She’d never been very nice to her, never welcoming. But then again, it’s not her job to hang out with the Kingsguard’s offspring. She had enough on her hands as a child, after all.

Her phone buzzes, pulling her out of her daydream.

I had a good time yesterday. I decided to come to Portavira after all, so I’ll see you tomorrow?

Rashad. Damn, she hates how her heart jumped like an idiot as she read his name on the screen. Why? It’s stupid. He’s just being nice.

She takes off her dress and gets into a tank top and shorts, before heading to the bathroom.

She’s not answering that text.

*****

‘Wow, you look hot,’ Drake whispers as he sees Amara come out of the bathroom in her new, emerald green nightie.

‘Oh, this old thing?’ she smirks. ‘Just kidding, it’s brand new. I got it at the lingerie store the other day with Hana.’

Drake pulls her into bed with him, and kisses her urgently. ‘How come I’ve never seen it?’

‘Well, Walker, as I recall, you didn’t exactly give me time to wear anything last night.’

He chuckles as he plants a trail of kisses from her lips down to her collarbone. ‘Heh. I guess you’re right. What can I say, I can’t resist you, Suarez.’

‘Mmmm, ditto. Don’t stop.’

He has no intention to stop. His mouth runs all over her chest, until he’s kissed every inch. He pays special attention to her nipples, which get harder and harder under his tongue. Soon enough, off comes the sexy nightie, to make more space for Drake to kiss her all over. On his way down, he kisses her stomach, until he reaches between her legs, where he’s been aching to go, all night long. Amara moans in anticipation as Drake pauses before putting his lips on her core. He teases her with his tongue, softly at first, then more deeply.

Her moans get louder and louder until she catches herself and remembers they are no longer alone in the house. Somehow, her muffled grunts turn him on even more. His only mission tonight is to make her come, and judging from her increasingly intense breathing, it becomes obvious that he’s on the right track.

As Amara orgasms, she lets out a barely muffled low groan, which Drake is pretty sure everyone in the house heard. But he doesn’t give a shit. Amara catches her breath, and whispers, ‘Wow, Walker...you got game.’

He smirks, ‘I fucking love taking care of you.’

She pulls him into a kiss, and he shivers as his hard cock touches her naked body. She reaches down and starts stroking it slowly, drawing groans from Drake. ‘Fuck me, Walker,’ she whispers in his ear.

*****

Amara opens her eyes, awakened by Drake’s soft kisses on her forehead. ‘H--hey,’ she mumbles.

‘Oh baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

She smiles and kisses him. ‘It’s ok. I need to take a shower and move my stuff anyways.’

Drake nods, stroking her hair. ‘Wanna join me in the shower?’

She acquiesces enthusiastically.

After showering, she stands in a towel in front of the mirror, brushing her rebellious curls and spraying rose water on her face. Drake gets into his jeans as quickly as he can and kisses her lips. ‘I’m gonna run to the supermarket to buy lunch before everyone else wakes up. I’ll see you later? I’ll bring croissants back for you guys, so don’t make anything, ok?’

‘You’re the best, thank you!’

He really is. Amara hopes that things don’t change too much from the bliss that she’s been feeling for the past two days, but she doubts her wish will come true. She already feels stressed out about Liam’s upcoming visit, and it’s not even an official courtly one. She’s already scanning the cabin in her head, to make sure nothing incriminating lies anywhere.

Once dressed in a casual outfit --light-wash skinny jeans and a yellow blouse--, Amara goes downstairs and puts the coffee pot on. Hana is already in the backyard, reading a novel.

‘Hi Amara!’ she waves.

‘Hey hun, I’m making coffee. Want some?’

‘Sure,’ Hana replies enthusiastically. ‘I saw Drake leave a while ago, he’ll be back with breakfast.’

Amara waits until the coffee has brewed and pours two cups, with a dash of milk.

‘Thanks,’ Hana says. ‘Did you pack? You should put your stuff in the master, we’ll say you slept with me, and Max on the couch.’

Amara nods. She loves that Hana has thought of everything. ‘Thank you. I was gonna ask if you mind lying a little…’

‘Of course not. We don’t want to raise suspicions, not now.’

Amara takes a big sip, pauses a bit, and says, ‘Hana, do you think we’re fooling ourselves? Liv is right, Liam will be furious however we announce it.’

Hana gives her a reassuring smile, and somehow, Amara already feels soothed. ‘Liv is hurting right now, she’s lost and she sees everything in a negative light. I think you and Drake are doing what you can. If the timing is right, if you wait until Liam has proposed to someone, and has moved on, you could always fudge the details and say you guys fell in love after the Decision Ball.’

‘You’re right. But...what if we don’t pull it off? What if someone rats us out before that?’

‘I understand the fear, believe me. Given everything that’s happened, it’s legitimate. But you can’t live in fear, honey. You’ve already lived the past two years punishing yourself for something you didn’t cause. You need to let yourself be happy.’

Amara swallows hard. She and Hana had many heart-to-hearts in the past few weeks, ever since she’d told her all about Sergio. Hana had been an excellent listener, and an even better hugger, but had never expressed any judgment or given her opinion on Amara’s past. This was the first time she had said something like that. ‘Funny,’ Amara smiles, ‘you’re not the only one who’s been telling me this, lately. My dad, Drake, Max, even Liv…’

Hana smirks, ‘Well maybe we’re all onto something. Obviously, you can’t announce your relationship to everyone right now. Liam and Drake’s friendship would not survive. But even in secret, for now, maybe you could find a way to stop feeling guilty. To stop fearing.’

‘Good Lord, woman,’ Amara whispers, ‘you’re so wise. It’s exhausting, really.’

Hana laughs heartily. ‘Oh well, I try, but I can only apply my wisdom to other people’s problems.’

Amara grabs her friend’s hand. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday, about Caroline. You should reach out to her. Explain to her what you said to us, about timing, about being ready. Maybe she’ll understand. It’s worth a shot, right?’

Hana smiles wistfully. ‘It definitely is.’

‘Morning my little blossoms!’ Maxwell kisses Hana’s and Amara’s cheeks. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘Great,’ Amara says. ‘Help yourself to coffee, Max, there’s plenty. Has anyone seen Olivia?’

Max shakes his head, all the while pouring himself a cup, to which he adds about four spoonfuls of sugar. ‘No, not yet. Hope she’s alright.’

As if on cue, Olivia comes down the stairs, looking more relaxed than the day before. ‘Morning guys,’ she says softly.

‘Hey Liv, how did you sleep?’ Max asks.

‘I um…’ she scratches her head and grabs a cup of coffee. ‘I actually slept really well. I’m sure it was Suarez’s margaritas.’

‘Or it could be the peace and quiet,’ Amara chimes in.

‘Yeah yeah, nature is fucking adorable,’ Liv replies.

*****

All five of them are still sitting outside, enjoying their coffee and croissants, in the sun. Drake bought something easy for lunch, he will just have to assemble the salad, and grill the steaks at the last minute. They will have ice cream for dessert.

The croissants he brought back were a hit, although he wishes he had had more time to make them himself. On second thought, he is glad he spent that time in bed and in the shower with Amara instead.

There is a knock on the door, and when Drake looks at his watch, he sees that it’s only eleven. Could it be Liam already? ‘I’ll get it,’ he says before getting up.

‘Good morning, Drake,’ Bertrand says, an awkward smile on his face.

‘Hi Bertrand, welcome!’ Drake responds, opening his arms for a hug.

Bertrand, visibly taken aback by the gesture, hesitates before walking into Drake’s hug. ‘Thank you for having me. I hope I’m not too early, I just, um…’

‘No, not at all, come have a coffee with us, we’re outside.’

He walks in, and Drake notices that he is wearing a black shirt, and a vest with little embroidered horses on it. Drake has to fight a smile. Bertrand probably thought that coming to the countryside warranted a horse-themed outfit. Thankfully, he didn’t break out the riding boots, just some boat shoes.

‘Hello everyone,’ Bertrand says awkwardly. It occurs to Drake that he had never really been included in any of their private get-togethers, besides the Beaumont Bashes. Drake feels bad. Although he doesn’t know it yet, this man is the father of his nephew, they should be closer.

‘Hi Bertrand, good to see you!’ Amara says, as she gets up and gives him a hug.

‘Oh, um, hello, yes, um, good to see you too, Amara,’ he mumbles, patting her back like he’s trying to burp her.

‘Do you take milk or sugar?’ Hana asks.

‘Um, no, I take it black, thank you, Hana, you’re very kind.’ He takes the cup. ‘Before we sit down, I wanted to make sure that everything is in order. I mean um, Amara, did you think of removing all evidence that um… that you were staying…’ He rubs his neck, obviously unsure of how to say what he wants to say in an appropriate manner.

Amara sees his struggle and interrupts. ‘Yes, thank you for thinking of this, Bertrand. I removed my belongings from Drake’s room and transferred them to Hana’s. Also, I wanted to apologize. For keeping you in the dark.’

He waves her off. ‘Please. There was a clear conflict of interest. You couldn’t possibly tell me, when I was so eager to push you on Prince Liam. But um… for what it’s worth, I am happy for you both. Love is precious and should not be apologized for.’

Drake’s eyes widen. Did Bertrand just say something adorable? Well fuck. ‘Thanks, man, we appreciate it. We heard you had our backs yesterday, thank you for that too.’

‘Oh,’ Bertrand mumbles again, ‘it was nothing.’

*****

Liam looks at his watch. He’ll be right on time for lunch at Drake’s. He decided to drive himself, to clear his head. Bastien had begged him not to, but he needed to be alone on this drive. He needed to feel normal.

Nothing feels normal. His best friend is acting weird and distant --although he hopes that today’s lunch will reinstate things. Olivia is banging her bodyguard and refusing to talk to him. Amara, the woman he’d been dreaming of, has made it clear she does not want him. Madeleine keeps pushing and pushing.

He thinks back of their encounter, just this morning, in the gardens. He was taking a stroll, coffee in hand, before leaving for Portavira, and she was obviously looking for him. After they exchanged pleasantries, she squeezed his arm, and lingered for a little too long. Then, like clockwork, his father called him into his study and asked him to give Madeleine a chance. He can bet that Madeleine went crying to her aunt Regina as soon as Liam was dismissive of her. According to Constantine, she is the best contender and Liam has not even considered her.  

His eyes on the road, his hands firmly on the steering wheel, Liam tries to clear his head. It feels good to drive himself. But really, he can’t relax, not properly anyways. All he can think of is how weak his father looked, this morning, in his study. So small in his chair. Liam wonders how much weight he’s lost. How much time he has left.

He can’t stop thinking about what his father told him. Consider the good of Cordonia. Don’t give the kingdom to a stranger, or to a hotheaded woman who fornicates with the help. The kingdom needs stability, and Madeleine is stable.

Is she, though? What she pulled the other night in his study was definitely a little crazy. Leo has warned him that she is way more harmful than she looks.

What are his options? Olivia is shutting him out and banging other people. Amara says she doesn’t love him, but maybe she could learn to? Or, maybe she could just be his companion, and… No, she won’t accept. He’s pretty sure she wouldn’t accept.

But then what, at the end of the week he chooses someone, and he never sees Amara again? That’s no good either. There has to be a solution.

‘Shit,’ he swerves, almost hitting a hedgehog trying to cross the road. Damn, he thinks. He really is distracted.

There’s still Kiara and Penelope. Are they contenders? Not sure if Penelope has it in her to be queen. Kiara, he sees her as more of a noblewoman doubled as a diplomat. He would definitely get her to be a part of his council, but marry her? No. His father is not a fan either, he doesn’t think she’s a leader.

‘This is a clusterfuck,’ he mumbles to himself. In five days, the Decision Ball will be upon him, and he is very far from having made a decision.

He turns onto the small road leading up to the cabin. He hasn’t been here in a while. Last time was months ago, when he needed to unplug after his brother abdicated. Drake had offered to have a weekend at the cabin together, just them guys. Max had joined for one evening. That was probably Liam’s last memory of normalcy.

Here he is, pulling up to the cabin. He parks near Bertrand’s car and lets himself out of his own. From the backseat, he grabs the apple pie and white wine bottle that he brought despite Drake’s request not to bring anything.

He knocks, weirdly anxious.

‘Hey,’ Drake says, opening the door. ‘I told you not to bring anything.’

He wraps him in a bear hug, and Liam lets out an imperceptible sigh of relief. ‘You knew I would.’

‘Heh, I did. Come on in. Everyone’s here already.’

And here they are. The Beaumonts, Hana, Liv, and Amara, all out in the backyard, joking around and having coffee.

‘Liam!’ Hana notices him. ‘So good to see you!’

She approaches him and gives him a warm hug. Liam is grateful for the enthusiasm. Everyone else greets him, Bertrand with a handshake, Max with a huge hug, and Amara with a quick one. Upon touching her skin, Liam’s heart flutters. He’ll have to shut it down really quickly if he doesn’t want to make everything awkward.

Only Liv has not gotten up from her chair outside. ‘Liv, hi, how are you?’ Liam risks.

‘Liam. I’m good, how are you?’

Her tone is cold as ice. Still no improvement from their last interaction. She’s not even meeting his eye. Is she embarrassed about the bodyguard? Is she angry with him for not standing up for her more? He has no idea. What he sees is resentment, and he has never seen that from her before.

‘Alright,’ Drake says, ‘let’s have some food!’

*****

Amara is pleasantly surprised with the free-flowing conversation. She thought Liam’s arrival would put a damper on things, and it has, to some extent, but his company is pleasant today, he’s not being weird, except for when she hugged him hello and he lingered. But if that’s her only problem, she’ll be fine.

She has to watch herself, though. Be cool, Suarez, she thinks. She made a point to sit farther from Drake than she usually does. She is between Hana and Maxwell, which feels natural, but also prevents her from reflexively taking Drake’s hand for everyone to see.

They try not to interact too much, but still let themselves joke around with each other in reaction to Max’s antics, or Liv’s badassery. It feels restrained, but natural nonetheless. Liam knows they’re ‘friends,’ he probably even thinks they’re close, especially since Drake defended her against Tariq and stood up for her when Liam was inappropriate.

‘Oh, so you were all here last night?’ Liam asks, when Drake makes a reference to last night’s dinner.

‘Yeah,’ Max quickly responds, ‘except for Bertrand who had business to conduct. But I took Hana, Amara and Liv here. It seemed like a good opportunity to blow off steam and hang out!’

Amara holds her breath. She can see on Liam’s face that he has FOMO. Before he arrived, they agreed that they wouldn’t hide that they’d all spent the night, especially since they’d have to take their luggage back and bring it to Penelope’s estate. But still, his reaction was somewhat worrying.

Drake’s eyes meet hers, and he chimes in. ‘It was a spur of the moment kinda thing. I know you had meetings. But next time--’

Liam waves him off. ‘Of course! I wish I could have been there, but I could barely free up these few hours this morning, can you imagine the uproar if I’d left court last night?’

He plasters on the fake smile that Amara hates so much. She knows she has to change the subject. ‘So how are things at court? Is everyone behaving without us?’

Liam drops the façade and takes a deep breath. Shit, Amara thinks. Maybe it wasn’t the right way to divert the conversation. ‘Well,’ Liam begins, ‘it’s definitely been quiet. Kiara and Penelope spend most of their time together, although I had a very pleasant one-on-one with Kiara. But um…’ He pauses and scans everyone’s faces. ‘Madeleine is acting a bit...suspicious. Can I be blunt?’

Drake nods. ‘Go ahead. We’re steel traps.’

‘She showed up in my study the other night, clearly trying to seduce me, and when I rejected her, I could tell that she was really pissed off. I’m convinced that she’s involved in the...pictures.’ Liv looks away, and Liam continues. ‘I’m waiting on some more reports from security. Bastien is on the case, looking for clues.’

Amara turns to Drake, and they make brief eye contact. They both know that putting Bastien on the case will do nothing. And yet, they both have zero interest in speaking up about him, because he’s the only reason why no one has found out about their relationship yet.

Hana senses the tension and chimes in. ‘I think there’s nothing more you can do, Liam. Amara has tried to investigate. The phone used to send out my picture was a burner, linked to no one. The envelopes are untraceable for now. There’s just not enough to go off of. All you can do now is keep being a reassuring presence.’

Liam nods. ‘You’re right. I just want this madness to stop. If Madeleine is involved…’ he interrupts himself and glances at Amara. She knows what he wants to say. But he stops in his tracks, probably not wanting to offend her or freak her out.

So, Amara says what they’re all thinking. ‘If she’s involved, I’ll be the next target.’

*****

Taglist:

​ @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @andy-loves-corgis @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @alesana45 @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love @drakewalkerwhipped @drakxwalker @drakewalkerrosenberg @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Sixty-Four: Cold Day ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, pregnancy ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

Like most mornings, he’s the first awake.

Dressed lightly in a tank top and sweats, Sasuke stares quietly out a window of the bedroom. Outside, snowflakes fall softly, lightly blanketing the mostly-empty compound. After a long night, the hearths are cool, and the floor chills the bottom of his bare feet.

Another cold day...not that he’s surprised. Hi no Kuni’s Winters are fairly temperate, but it still gets cold enough to be noticed for a few months. And they’re not out of the thick of it yet.

Behind him, soft noises can barely be heard from the bed. Hinata stirs, not quite waking. Shifting to her side to curl around her growing middle, still little more than a bump, the curtain of her hair spills over her neck to either side.

Before he can stop it, a soft smile gives a hint of a lift to Sasuke’s lips. Few things give him more peace than just...watching her. Realizing that she’s here, with him...especially now that they know she’s with child. At last...his part of the family is growing. A new little cousin for Itachi’s twins.

He’s both ecstatic...and terrified.

But Sasuke pushes those thoughts away for now. At the moment, he has a house to warm against the dropping temperatures outside.

First thing’s first: leaving the bedroom, he moves to the irori in the heart of the house, stoking the charcoal with a careful breath of katon. Once that’s going, he preemptively begins heating the kotatsu in the kitchen before starting breakfast.

He’s about halfway through the meal before he hears soft footsteps. Another smile is born as he feels arms sneak around his waist, and a cheek at his back. The subtle protrusion of her middle only makes the smile grow.

“Good morning,” he rumbles, tending to their meal.

“G’morning,” is Hinata’s slurred response. “You didn’t wake me up…”

“I wanted you to rest.”

There’s a small sound of disbelief behind him. “I’m not that tired.”

“You said you were groggy yesterday.”

Sasuke can practically feel her eyes roll. “Yes. I was. Briefly. You’re exaggerating…”

“I’m being cautious.”

His wife heaves a sigh, already knowing there’s no convincing him otherwise. Instead, she asks, “Can I help?”

“I’m almost done now. Best thing you can do is sit and get warm.”

Hinata’s lips pout before withdrawing. She is, admittedly, a little chilly. Already clothed in a padded yukata, she snuggles down under the thick material of the kotatsu, leaning forward and resting her chin atop it sleepily.

It’s not until Sasuke brings the dishes over that she sits up and offers the small pre-meal prayer. The meal passes mostly in a comfortable silence, neither of them ever feeling a need to fill the air for the sake of noise. Not until meaningful conversation starts.

“So, should we take the day to run errands? At least the village shouldn’t be too crowded due to the snow,” Hinata notes, pausing between bites.

“I suppose. You want to go out in the cold?”

“The cold doesn’t bother me much. I was born in the middle of Winter,” she teases with a smile.

“And I in the belly of Summer. Doesn’t mean I like the heat.”

“No, but you’re an Uchiha: you have fire within you all the time, hm?”

Sasuke just scoffs, still smiling just a hair. “A common assumption.”

“But is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“Well, I didn’t get cold in the night...so I’ll say it is.”

Finishing another bite, he thinks for a moment. “...I suppose it won’t hurt to get a few things done in town.”

“We should see if anyone else needs to make the trip.”

“Shisui’s out with the Hokage detail this week. Itachi and the missus were just out yesterday. Pretty sure it’s just us.”

They finish their meal and do up the dishes before bundling up for the walk. By now, the ground’s generously coated with a layer of snow. Letting Hinata take his arm, Sasuke leads their meandering pace out of the compound and into the village proper.

Free from the Academy, kids are everywhere, running amok in the white powder and clearly revelling in it. Breath plumes in the chilled air, but that doesn’t stop the shouting and squealing of little ones. Watching Hinata from the corner of his eyes, Sasuke doesn’t miss the longing smile on her face.

“Won’t be long.”

She startles a bit, looking confused.

“August, right?”

A blink, and then understanding lights her face. “...yes! Mid August. Or...thereabouts.” A pretty blush dusts her cheeks, ducking her chin down into her scarf. “...I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I.”

“I’ll admit, it’s been n-nice to help with the twins. I think I have half an idea of how to handle all of...that.”

“Hn...true.”

Taking their time, the pair mosey around various shops, picking up essentials and going off spoken lists. A small break is taken in a cafe to refuel on hot tea and a light lunch. By now it’s stopped snowing, and trails are already worn into the white. Hands clinging to her mug to warm them, Hinata watches passersby through the window. “...you know...I think I like Konoha best in the Winter.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm...things seem to just...slow down. There’s not as much hurry. Business as usual, of course. Things don’t stop. But...it’s like the whole village gets a little sleepy.”

“...I suppose I see what you mean.” While Sasuke can enjoy the slower pace, part of him feels a little...antsy about it. The part that still can’t help but feel a bit of unease when things are too quiet for too long. It’s like he’s just...waiting for something to go wrong.

...and things have gone wrong.

But before he can linger on that, they finish up and go to run their last errands. The shorter Winter day is already starting to dim, so they hurry along before making their way back home. All in all...a rather uneventful day. He’s working on learning to enjoy those.

As they release their burdens in the house, Hinata gives a soft sigh, hands at the small of her back.

“Are you all right?”

An amused sigh leaves her, form wilting. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little tired. And no, I’m not going to bed,” she teases, glancing to him.

“...didn’t say you had to.”

“But you were thinking it.”

They end the day with organizing before just...spending a little time lounging and enjoying each other’s company. Snuggled on a couch, they take to hobbies: Hinata knits while Sasuke reads over a few reports from the last month at the precinct.

Just another quiet day.

Later they have dinner, the house warm and cozy and full of delicious smells. Hinata even gets him to indulge in a bit of dessert, but happily accepts what he doesn’t finish. A little more time spent winding down, and then they ready for bed.

“...today was kinda boring, wasn’t it?”

“Was it?” Sasuke asks, finishing washing his face.

“I don’t know...it just seemed slow.”

“You were just talking today about liking the slow.”

“I do! But maybe I’m also eager for Spring.”

“Hn...you and me both. I can’t wait to see the trees leaf out and the grass gain back a little color.”

Settling into bed, Hinata sighs, nestling down into her pillow. “I’m eager to get the garden looking nice again…”

“I bet you will. You’ve got that green thumb, after all.”

“Hm…” Eyes closed, she smiles, expression growing as Sasuke latches onto her with a contented sigh. “Well, for now...a little while longer in the cold…”

“It’s not cold with you around.”

“You, too.”

     A little bit of mostly-plotless fluff to make up for two days in a row of angst x3      There's...really not much to say about this one. Rather tired and a little museless today, so...this is a more meandering, pathless drabble compared to the usual scenes I try to do. Just a little day in the life of the happy couple. Well...mostly happy. ALAS has its share of problems in the post-699 arc, but...while hinted at in this, that's not the point for today. A little break for them both!      For now :3c      Anyway, I'm...very tired, so time to call it a night~ Thanks so much for reading!

[youngcheesecaketale]

Clonetober #5 Drunken Confessions

JUST TO LET YOU GUYS KNOW THAT IN THIS STORY YOU WILL HEAR THE WORDS KISS AND SEX. Sorry about that. It is clean. After a long day from fighting a war or doing paper work (That would be Cody and Fox) it’s good to have a nice time to go to the 79 Club to get drunk or to party with girls. Fives, Echo, Hardcase, Jesse and Kix were at the Club. Each of them had a favorite drink that they would get when they were their. Jesse was a Coke Cola with cherries flavor with a shot of whiskey mixed in. Kix was Coke Cola. He would drink that when ever his with FIVES, HARDCASE, and JESSE because he would be one to make sure they didn’t drink too much or get in trouble. When he’s not with those 3, he would get a Coke Cola with cherries flavor with a shot of whiskey mixed in but would have 2 straws so he can share with Jesse. Fives and Hardcase was Tequila with a DROP of Coke Cola. It’s basically just straight Tequila. Finally Echo. His favorite drink is water. Yep. Just water. He’s afraid that Fives, Hardcase, and Jessie would put something in his drink or those 3 would get so drunk that he and Kix would have to carry them to ship. When his not with them, he gets Lemonade. Sometimes he will get a lemon for his Lemonade. Echo doesn’t like to drink. Anyway, now that you guys know what everyone likes, we can now get to the main story. You won’t believe what Fives says.

Fives, Hardcase, and Jesse got drunk after drinking about 3 REALLY TALE GLASSES of their drinks. Echo and Kix love see what crazy things that those 3 say when they get drunk. Fives was slurring when he was speaking. He said “I Saw A Cute Girl And She Kiss Me. I Wanted To Kiss Her Back But I Knew I Couldn’t.” Kix was asking him “Why did you stop from kissing her back?” Fives respond saying “I Couldn’t Kiss Her Because I’m Married to Echo.” Kix and the others started laughing except Echo. He started to blush knowing that Fives told everyone that they were married.(Again, I will tell you about that later.) Luckily it was dark enough that they couldn’t really see him blushing. Echo was able to feel better because he loved him and plus those 3 would forget what they said. Hardcase was next. He also was slurring when he was speaking. He said, “Oh Yeah! I Got Something Better Then That! I saw Cody And Obi Wan Holding Hands Yesterday!” Everyone laughed not noticing that Cody was also in the Club and heard everything. He was about to go up and talk to them but he knew that they needed a break. They and CODY both deserved a break from the battle they just finished. Besides. Cody was to tired to talk to them and left the Club to get some rest. They knew that they will forget about it when they get a hangover. Finally it was Jesse’s turn. Jesse was also slurring his words too. He said, “ I Got Something Better Then That!”. Hardcase still drunk saying “Oh Yeah! What Do You Got That’s Better Then Mine!”. Jesse said, “Mine Is Better Then Yours Is Because...Me And Kix Have Sex Every Night!”. After hearing that, Jesse was the only ONE laughing. That’s when Kix said, “Well...Umm...I think you had enough drinks for tonight” as he took the drink out of Jesse’s hand. After Kix took his drink, Echo and Kix got those 3 and heading back to...actually. Kix called their Brother Fox to help them get those 3 out of the Club. Fox helped Echo and Kix take them back to the base but to decided to put them in the Coruscant Jail’s Drunk Tank(actually a room with padding on the floors and the walls so no one who is in there can’t hurt themselves) to have them sleep it off.

Thank you for reading my story. Hope you guys liked it.

[jamespottervevo]

The One With The Party

St. Albus’s Series / Modern Muggle AU

This is the fourth installment of the St. Albus’s series. The series is made up of snippets and may not be posted in chronological order because I am garbage. Eventually I’ll get around to numbering them as I post more. (events directly predate “the one with the phone call,” and follow those of “the one with the new school” and “the one with the crushing.” also tagging @snapslikethis because linds once talked to me about this verse and I am desperate for attention)

tw for homophobic slur and canon compliant racism

3.4k | ffnet | ao3 | installments 1, 2, 3 |

Lily presses a cold rag against Sev’s swollen eye, brows furrowed. He won’t tell her why he was in a fight, only that it was Potter and his gang. She doesn’t know them too well, only Remus, who she can’t possibly imagine doing this, and Peter, who is too mousy to even raise his hand in class.

He’s got a nasty scratch on his cheek and his sallow, olive skin is mottled purple around his already dark eye and so she just tries to get some of the swelling to go down, apologizing each time she presses the rag too hard and feels him flinch.

She wants to believe Sev, in nearly the year they’ve been friends, he’s not lied to her, not that she knows of, at least. But she’s still having trouble wrapping her head around his flimsy story. At least until she sees the four boys the next day.

Potter’s sporting a black eye to mirror Sev’s, and his nose is swollen as if it were punched, hard. Remus’s lower lip looks swollen and she sees a bruise peeking out from under his collar. Pettigrew seems to have escaped with the least amount of injuries, only a small bruise on his temple, but Black is another story. A black eye, a cut lip, and marks ringing his neck that look all too much like fingers. Sev couldn’t have possibly done all that…

And maybe she could have let herself believe his story, but she sees a few boys from Stevens, Sev’s house, all a year older, bearing similar marks of a scuffle. And when all nine boys are called down to McGonagall’s office, she tries to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.

As soon as Lily sinks down at the table, setting down her tray, Mary’s off like a shot. Elbows on the table, head tipped forward, hair tucked behind her ears. The gossip pose. “So, have you heard about what happened?” She asks, conspiratorial. Dorcas slides in next to Lily and quirks a brow.

“Gossip? This early in the afternoon?”

Mary flicks a pea at her from across the table. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t know what happened. A bunch of blokes from Stevens got into it with James’s lot out behind the building yesterday.” Dorcas’s eyes widen and Mary nods and Lily scowls, stabbing violently at her chicken breast.

“Sev told me about it yesterday,” she begins, though as soon as his name passes her lips her mates faces’ darken, “said that Potter’s groupies ganged up on him.” She knows, of course she knows, that it sounds like a lie. And maybe it is. But Sev isn’t a bad person. He wouldn’t lie to her, would he? After all, she’s seen the way Potter acts.

Dorcas frowns, leaning back. “Lils, sweetheart.” She reaches out to pat her arm, as if offering her condolences. But they don’t know Sev. He’s not a bad person.

Mary’s already steamrolling forward, eyes lit up. “I heard it was about the convocation. Black’s got a brother, you know. He goes to Riddle, least he did. Maybe he’ll get pulled out and sent here after what happened.”

Dorcas shifts on the bench, cocking her head to the side, her hand still on Lily’s arm. “Black’s got a brother? Wonder why they went to separate schools. Sirius and I aren’t, like, friends, but friendly enough to know he’s got a brother,” she says, her lips pursing as Mary continues to nod, bobble headed and eager.

The conversation grates at Lily, all but in one ear and out the other. She loves her girls, really, she does, but sitting there, listening to them go on and on about the fight and Sirius’s brother- Reggie or something awful- it’s a reminder of Sev and the fact that he… well, she isn’t quite sure what he had done, but he had done something. Lied, maybe. Gotten into a fight, definitely.

She doesn’t want to dwell on it much at all.

“I’ve got to go. Slughorn asked if I’d grade a few papers for him and I-” Lily falters, just for a moment, Dorcas and Mary looking up at her, matching frowns working onto their faces.

“Lils, don’t go. We believe you believe that Snape isn’t lying-” Mary begins.

"No, it’s cool, really it’s cool, I just have to go,’ she says, fumbling over her words as she quickly stands, sliding her bag back up onto her shoulder, hands gripping the plastic of the lunch tray. Hard. “I’ll see you guys later. I’m fine, really. Everything’s fine.”

It would be great, Lily thinks, if I believed what I said. But recently, Sev’s been so distant. It isn’t like they were ever chatty. That’s not the type of friends they were. The type of friends they are. She isn’t really sure, anymore.

He’s been spending so much time with Mulciber’s crew, ditching their afterschool study sessions to work on assignments with Avery and Rosier. Or at least, that’s what he’s been telling her. Lily isn’t sure what she should be bothered to believe anymore.

She tucks her hair back behind her ear as she walks, the missing eight inches still a shock. But, a good shock, Lily’s decided. A good sort of change. Her flats clack against the ground as she makes her way towards Stevens. She really does have papers to grade for Slughorn. (She’d just been hoping to put them off until he delegated them off to another member of the Slug Club.)

She’s halfway across the courtyard when she hears the it, the shuffling and scuffling and huffy breathing before the shout of her name. “Evans!” She doesn’t have to turn to know its Potter.

Lily doesn’t quite stop walking, but, she’ll admit that she slows down, just a bit, as a rather sweaty looking Potter appears at her side. His tie is undone, his shirt partway unbuttoned, and there are what look like grass stains on his elbows. All of this comes in second to the massive bruise blooming just under his eye, his glasses bent around his very angry looking nose.

“Potter,” is all she says.

He pushes a hand up through his hair, takes a gulping breath. “Look, I know that you probably think that I went out of my way to attack Sni- Snape. That I went out of my way to attack Snape, but I promise I-” Lily holds up her hand.

“I don’t care, Potter. Please, just leave me alone.” It’s a lie, a dirty, blatant, lie. And she knows it, and maybe she isn’t exactly fond of the way that Potter looks like a kicked puppy as she speaks, but she’s seen him tearing down Severus enough to know a lie when she hears one.

“Right, yeah. Uh, sorry, then,” Potter mumbles, eyes falling down to the ground as he falls out of step with her until he’s just standing there in the courtyard. She pretends not to feel his eyes on her until she disappears into Stevens.

             -

           If she was a worse friend, she would have just said “no” when Mary showed up on her doorstep, waggling her eyebrows and announcing that they would be going out. But, Lily flinches as Mary plucks out an apparently stubborn hair from between her eyebrows, she’s not a bad enough friend.

“I know what you’re thinking already, Lils, but this will be fun, I promise,” Mary murmurs, her brow knit in concentration as she continued to pluck at her brows, all but sitting in her lap to do so. It would be much easier to believe her, Lily decides, if she wasn’t currently yanking out her hair. “Cardoc throws, like, the best parties. And I know you’ve been all messed up about what went on with Snape lately and this has to help.”

Mary isn’t really the sort of girl anyone says “no” to, and so, Lily rolls her eyes and gently pushes her off her lap. “I’m fine, Mary. But,” she pauses and offers a slight smile, moving over to her closet, “a party does sound like fun.” She tugs open her closet and fights back the unwelcome thought of Petunia. She would have loved to help her get ready, back then. Before. And it still stings to think about.

So, Lily tugs down a tank top and holds it up appraisingly, looking over at Mary with a quirked brow. Mary- who has sprawled out across her bed in a far too easy manner- nods, her fingers steepled in front of her face. “Yeah, definitely. Show off those sexy shoulders is what I always say.” Which, Lily knows for a fact, Mary has never once said. “Pair it with those cute flats, the ones with the laces.”

The next two hours pass like this, with Lily holding up tops or jeans or skirts or jewelry or shoes, and Mary trying to mix and match for the cutest possible outfit for Cardoc’s party. It’s fun, having Mary there. It’s been… too long, Lily thinks, since she’s had this sort of fun. She can’t even remember the last time she’d been to a party.

But as Mary pulls into an empty bit of space around the curb in a glaringly posh neighborhood, Lily’s painfully aware that she’s never been to a party like this.

She doesn’t recognize half the people stumbling up the sloped lawn, can’t name half the models of cars that are wrapping around the street, but at least she can halfway hum along to the song pouring from the open windows of the house.

This.

This is what being a teenager is supposed to be.

“Dorcas said she’d be here, but god only knows where. I haven’t been here in ages, I forgot how fucking massive Cardoc’s place is.” Mary is yelling over the thumping of the bass while their shoes slip against the damp grass of the Dearborns’ overly manicured lawn. The door to the bloody mansion is wide open and inside, Lily can see her classmates dancing. Or grinding rather. Like the queen that she is, Mary pushes inside, her hand slipping into Lily’s, her long legs clearing a path.

“Oi, Mac wasn’t sure if you’d make it!” “Mary! I fucking love that top, where did you get it?”  “Lily, ohmygosh, I’ve, like, never seen you at a party before, you look so cute-”

She can’t hear anything really, not over all the voices, or the music, or the sounds of bottles clinking. Lily is certain that someone had been trying to talk to her, but by the time she’d managed to glance around, Mary’s already dragging her through the crowded foyer.

It’s not the first time she’s been in a nice house before. Mary’s house is nice, with its high ceilings and white tile, and vaguely geometric looking furniture. But Cardoc’s house is some strange combination of old money, midlife crisis, and way too much mahogany. She should feel small and out of place and poor, but- Lily steps quickly to the side to avoid being tripped over by Benjy something-or-other- it’s rather hard to feel out of place when everyone is on such an equal playing field.

The lights in the living room are dimmed and she can just barely see all the furniture pushed up against the walls under the shoddily hung blacklight and strobes. Lily can see a bit of light pouring out from a room just off all the madness- a kitchen or dining room, she’s guessing, where it looks like a group are playing some sort of drinking game.

The entire house reeks of expensive cologne, expensive alcohol, expensive weed. Mary leans in close to her, lips almost brushing against her ear as she all but shouts. “Would’ya mind if I went to find Becks? I’ve been meaning to talk to her for like, the past month, about what she saw going down in Hufton the other day,” she yells. Though, at least she has the decency to look rather apologetic. “I can wait though, until we find Dorcas, I don’t want to leave you alone or anything-”

“It’s cool, Mar. I want to look around anyway,” Lily says, well, shouts, waving her hand. Mary bites her lip and watches her for a moment, before Lily rolls her eyes and gives her a gentle shove so she can go find someone named Becks, apparently. Whoever the hell that is.

“You’re a peach,” Mary pauses as she smacks a lipgloss sticky kiss to her cheek, “keep your phone on you, I’ll text every half hour,” she adds, before quickly disappearing into the mess of people, looking right at home in the throng of writhing hormones.

And then, she’s alone, standing just at the edge of the dancing. She takes a breath before slipping into the crowd herself, rolling her hips along with the music. She isn’t sure when she starts singing along, shouting the lyrics as a very pretty girl she doesn’t quite recognize starts to dance with her.

It’s fun, and exhilarating, and freeing, and Lily’s laughing, and jumping and waving her arms to music she’s blasted on the radio. This is what she’s missed. For the time, it’s easy to forget about Sev and Petunia and the way Potter looked when she’d walked away and her dad and who her mum was becoming and grades and everything bad.

It’s every terrible teen movie wrapped up into an indistinguishable amount of time. When she finally breaks free from the crowd, squeezing her way toward the kitchen to try and find something to drink, her phone vibrates in her back pocket. A text from Mary. Rather, a lot of texts from Mary.

lil my car got fucking towed holy shit what do i do

come find me i gotta go like, bail my car out of car jail

did u see the fuckin hydrant bc i didnt see a hydrant

lily lily lily lily where tf are u

Shit. Lily pushes past a couple making out and slips into an empty hallway, pressing the “dial” button by Mary’s name.

“Lily, where are you? I am so sorry, I feel like we just got here and now I have to bail and I feel, like, so terrible-” Mary is rambling, her words coming out almost too quickly to comprehend.

“Mary, it’s okay, really. Just go get your car-”

“Are you sure? Like, I cannot leave you alone here. I am not a terrible friend-”

“You aren’t a terrible friend. I can catch a ride with Dorcas, okay? Really-”

“You gotta text me when you get home, okay? I am so, so sorry but-” Wherever Mary is, Lily can’t hear what she’s saying anymore, and so after a bit more warbled yelling, she hangs up, slips her phone back into her pocket.

She leans up against the wall of the hallway, just off from the kitchen, she thinks. The music is still thumping through the walls, but there aren’t any strobe lights or any people, and so Lily takes a moment to catch her breath, pushing a hand through her hair, shaking it off the back of her sweat slick neck. A part of her wishes she’d put on a headband before she’d left the house, but according to Mary, it hadn’t fit the “aesthetic.”

Lily pushes herself off the wall, rolls her shoulders, and sets herself to go and find Dorcas- she doubts she’d be able to hear her phone in that mess out there- but-

“Lily?” Her stomach drops. Because why would he be here? He doesn’t even know Cardoc- well, not that she really knows Cardoc much either, just, the idea of Sev, there, at a party thrown by the type of person he said he hates. She turns, just slightly, hoping that she imagined it, imagined his voice. She hadn’t.

Because Sev is standing there in the hallway, a glassy sort of look to him in a pair of ill-fitting jeans and a worn-out t-shirt with a stain near the hem. It’s strange, to see him out of his uniform. She hadn’t even thought he owned anything casual. She can still see his black eye, even in the dark.

“What are you doing here?” He takes a few steps closer to her, and as mad as she is at him, it’s stupidly comforting to have someone else there with her, someone she knows.

“I came with Mary. I’m allowed to have fun, Severus,” she says, a bit pointedly. His eyes aren’t quite focused and it’s apparent he’s been doing something. She can smell whatever it is he’s been drinking on his breath.

“You don’t like parties,” he says. It annoys her, for some reason, that he says that, that he says it like that. She folds her arms over her chest, frowns, just slightly.

“I do, actually. You don’t like parties. I never went to anything because you never wanted to go.” He’d always found some way to get out of everything like this, out of everything that reeked of money and their richer classmates.

“Came with Avery and Mulciber. I’m having fun, too. This is fun.” His words are strung together in a way that doesn’t come naturally. He’s close enough that Lily can see how glossed over his eyes are. Of course he’s here with them, his new friends.

“Why are you hanging out with them? They aren’t good people, Sev, you know that. I know you know that. They're racists, you know.” She doesn’t know why she says it, especially why she says it there, in Cardoc’s hallway during a rager, but.

He laughs at her and it sounds sick. It’s wet and heavy and drunk, his palm hitting the wall too close to her head as he tries to support himself and she hates that she flinches. He should have hated that, that he’d made her flinch. It doesn’t look like he notices.

“What do you know? You don’t know them, Lil, they're fun. They like me. They don’t take any shit from dirty fuckers like Potter. We don’t need his kind here. Not him, or… or fucking fags like Black or all those fuckin’ immigrants,” he slurs, gesturing with one hand. Lily hardens.

“No, don’t you say anything like that. You’re not like this. You’re just…you’re drunk and saying what they’ve been telling you and-”

“He likes you, fucking Potter, always fucking staring at you. Thinks he’s so much better than everybody else ‘spite being one of those.”

“Severus,” Lily snaps, her palms damp with sweat, shaking. No, no, no. She thinks about what Potter had said to her- tried to say to her, earlier in the courtyard. “I’ve defended you to him. You aren’t like this. This isn’t you. I’ve stood up for you.” Even she knows how desperate she sounds. How pathetic she sounds.

“I don’t fucking need that, not from some immigrant cunt-”

And it’s like shattering glass. “Goodbye, Sev- Snivellus.” She uses the name like a slap, hoping it hides the quiver in her lip because he is supposed to be her best friend. He’s had lunch with her, with her Polish mum, in their house. He’s supposed to have been her best friend.

“Lily, no, wait, I didn’t-” Snape stumbles toward her and over his words as she pushes him away, his hand on his shoulder, tugging and tearing at the strap of her top. It snaps as she pushes him again.

“Leave me alone. I never want to fucking speak to you again.” And she’s pushing him again and moving faster than she thought she could down the hall. Someone presses a full, sloshing, cup into her hand and she drinks it, quick and thoughtless and stupid. She can hear him behind her still, trying to catch up, yelling her name.

not from some immigrant cunt-

not from some immigrant cunt-

not from some immigrant cunt-

There’s another cup in her hand and she doesn’t know who put it there. Most of it spills down the front of her ruined blouse.

She isn’t sure exactly when she started crying, but her head is swimming and she can’t breathe, and it feels like the world is getting too close too quickly by the time she breaks out into the open night air.

Lily doesn’t look, not as she clumsily unlocks her phone, not as she scrolls, not as she hits call.

“Potter,” she hiccups, “ca-can you come get me?”

[take-pitioss-on-me]

Starscourge (Prompto)

Hey guys, I don't have much to say today other than I’m back with some more starscourge angst with a Prompto one shot! If you have any asks to submit my ask box is open, and I would absolutely love to bring your prompts to life!! Anyways I hope y’all enjoy the story! (Another warning this one also gets pretty dark at the end) 

Part 1 (”Prologue” + Noctis)

“Y/N, you’re bleeding!” The familiar voice was dripping with concern as a gloved hand reached for your face. 

You intertwine your fingers with his in an effort to prevent him from making direct contact with your feverish skin. The boy’s hand reluctantly gave into yours, but not without you seeing the worried look within his purple eyes. Guilty flooded your body, and caused you turned your gaze towards the floor of the car. 

“Really? it must be this cold...” You’d never been a good liar, especially in front of him.

Quickly you lift your free hand to wipe the cold liquid that was beginning to gush out of your nose. The back of your hand was covered in a deep red that’s been growing darker by the day. You couldn’t bare to tell the blond haired boy what had happened to you. The fear that the darkness buried deep within the wound that a daemon gouged into your shoulder would extinguish the last ray of sunshine that you were clinging onto. Not when you were this close to beating this illness. 

“We’re here.” The relieved voice of the prince filled the air as the Regalia crawled to a stop. 

The scene before your eyes was absolutely breath taking. Green grass sprawled across the top of the cliff which held a magnificent lighthouse, and a getaway home that belonged to the royal family. The salty air of the ocean filled your lungs while the waves beating against the rocks far below was music to your ears. Although the sight of a young woman wearing a bright yellow jacket was exactly what you were hoping to see.

“Howdy! It sure took y’all long enough to get here!” Her shrill chuckle cut through the calming sounds of the sea.

“Hey Cindy, how’s the boat lookin’?” The prince’s calm inquiry was the information that your life hinged upon. 

This boat is what kept you going since you developed the scourge. This boat is your desperate attempt to prevent your transformation into a daemon. This boat is your one way ticket to Luna, the only known person who could heal the starscourge that’s taken root inside your body. This boat is the last shred of hope that you’ll get to spend your future with Prompto.

“Paw-paw’s tinkerin’ away. Reckon he’ll be tinkerin’ for some time. Seen her share, by the looks of her. Some parts we can fix, others need replacin’.” Cindy’s words hammered the final nails into your coffin.

You were already running on borrowed time. Each day you selfishly spend alongside the guys was another day that you risked their lives. Another day that you risked his life. Panic began to set in as you pictured the veins beneath Prompto’s skin turn as black as night. The vision on your ray of sunshine dissolving into a mass of darkness was haunting enough, but watching his purple eyes become engulfed in red sent you over the edge. No longer will you threaten the ones you care about. 

As the sun hung low on the horizon it covered the land in a haze of orange.The sound of muffled laughter could be heard inside of the manor where everyone was eating dinner. You closed your eyes while inhaling one more large breath before marching off the porch. Nothing filled your mind other than your desire to  keep those you love safe. It’s always lingered in the back of your mind, but ever since the fall of Insomnia it’s been impossible for you to forget. It’s the only thing that has crossed your mind since you met Prompto. Images flood your vision from that day, and you remember how you were a goner from the moment you laid eyes on him.

It started out like any other day in Duscae. The smell of chocobos filled the dewey morning air, and erased any trace of sleep left within your system. Wiz called you over to his side so that the two of you could begin the morning routine for each chocobo. Your hands mechanically went to work checking the harnesses, saddle, and lanterns ensuring that each rests securely upon the bird. Although you knew that there were no issues with the gear because it was fine yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and so on. The chocobo business had become stagnant due to the presence of the behemoth locals nicknamed Deadeye. Everything changed as a group of boys in a fancy car came along. You were too busy to look twice as their car pulled into the outpost, but you could hear every word they exchanged with Wiz. It was clear they weren’t hunters by trade, and this was painfully obvious due to their lack of knowledge of the area let alone their cluelessness about Deadeye. This only fueled the shock that filled your system once you heard Wiz assign the behemoth’s contract to the strangers. As you immediately turned on your heels to give Wiz a piece of you mind, you were stopped dead in your tracks. Purple eyes were instantly locked with Y/E/C for what felt like an eternity. The air between you seemed alive with an intensity that only the two of you could sense. From that moment on the two of you were inseparable, and the rest is history.

The crunching of rocks snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes traveled to the ground to find that it wasn't there. You were standing at the edge of the cliff gazing at the dark water far below, but you could still hear the sound of footsteps against the rocks.

“Y/N? What are you doing all the way out here?” Prompto’s voice was saturated in worry, and it shattered your heat to pieces.

“Prom, I’ve got something that I really need to show you...” The brave voice that you tried to put on failed miserably as you choked on your own words.

Slowly you let the leather jacket fall from your body which left your torso covered in nothing more than Prompto’s favorite red tank top, and an arm full of black veins. You could feel the light from the sunset burning the scourge that festered within your body. The tough facade that you’ve worn for so long finally cracked as you let out a heart shattering sob.

“it’s o- oka- okay. We’re g- gon- gonna fix this. We’re gonna get youtoLuna. Lunawilltakeitaway. Everythingwillbeoka-” Prompto’s world tumbled out of his mouth faster than his mind could process them, and then his brain processed words faster than his mouth could slur them together.

“No, Prompto, it’s not gonna be okay. The boat isn’t ready to travel, and I’m a ticking time bomb...” You finally turned around to face him, and you saw that your sunshine disappear along with the evening light. 

Prompto was clutching his stomach as if he received a blow to his gut. His breaths were shallow, and ragged. The electricity that normally lit his eyes was completely drained. In his place was a broken boy who looked akin to that of a lost dog.

“Prom...” Your tortured voice called out his name as you took a step towards him.

If only you had heard the rocks begin to crumble under your feet a split second sooner, but maybe it was better this way. Time slowed down as you began fall. You watched a light spark behind Prompto’s eyes one last time as he shot out a hand for you to grab. Instinctively you body reached out for his, but he was too late. The tips of his fingers brushed against yours, and then there was nothing but air around you. After falling for what felt like an eternity your breath was knocked from your lungs as you crashed into the black water. The darkness slowly engulfed you as you sank deeper, and deeper. 

Maybe it really is better this way...

Thank you for reading! I really really hope that you enjoyed it, and please feel free to send me some prompts!!

Part 2

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Helping Hands

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five| Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve: Showing One’s Hand

It was utterly and completely unfair of Lewis to send him this perfect picture of masculine beauty, dressed in the colors of early morning light and looking like a hipster angel. 

Tony sighed, shoved Loki’s butt out of his face, and got a mouthful of angry cat tail for his trouble. It was damned hard to look dignified with an over-enthusiastic cat on his desk. “Is it time for the awkward conversation, then?” 

Bucky scrubbed at the back of his neck, looking at Tony from under his thick lashes, and that was just fighting dirty, that’s what that was. “Hey,” Bucky said, “next time you’re plannin’ on pitchin’ me out of an airplane, a parachute might be nice. Not sayin’ I couldn’t’ve handled it better, but…” 

“Told Happy it was a word,” Tony muttered, then gestured to Bucky. “Nothing, don’t mind me, talking to myself. Go on.” 

“I suck at apologies, Tony,” Bucky said. “Every time I say sorry these days, and believe me, I say it a lot, what I feel like I’m doin’ is sayin’ ‘excuse me that I exist and that I’m inconvenient that way.’ I begrudge and hate every single one of ‘em. Sorry comes out of my mouth coated with bile. I hate the taste of it.” 

Tony shrugged like he didn’t care. “You don’t have to apologize for existing.” 

“I… um,” and Bucky was blushing, hot, red and furious, spreading from under the scarf and staining his cheeks. “Shit. I… it wasn’t nothing. It was… um. I ain’t never been with a man before.”

Tony blinked. That wasn’t anything he was expecting. “You’re a virgin? How is that even possible?” 

“Christ’s cup,” Bucky swore, ducking his head. “No. I was married for twelve years. I mean… I… bisexual. It’s a thing. It’s the box I check at the doctor’s office, but it was… sort of theoretical until--” 

“Until this afternoon,” Tony said. Wow. He hadn’t seen that one coming. Tony remembered his first time with Sunset Bain, who’d been the first girl he’d slept with, and remembering how weird and strange that had seemed to him. He’d been used to a man’s body and shape, and it had taken him a while to figure out how it all worked, all over again. Suddenly everything seemed a little bit clearer. Bucky hadn’t nudged him on the bed as a one-and-done, an experienced bathroom-quickie sort of guy. 

So much more of everything made sense. Tony couldn’t quite put himself in Bucky’s shoes; he’d been outed at twelve, so he had no real context for that, but he understood better now Bucky’s sheer rage at the photographs and the reactions of co-workers and neighbors. 

Tony had decades of experience and it still made his heart race when someone started flinging homophobic slurs around. It had to be especially hard for a man who’d had his first homosexual encounter at nearly forty and then was immediately outed on a national scale. Sweet Tesla, it was a wonder Bucky was even here, talking to Tony now. 

��It meant something to me, I promise,” Bucky said. “But then your…” 

“Yeah, Lewis is a bit much sometimes. Taser-queen, too, so don’t ever get on her bad side, you wouldn’t like that.” 

Bucky ignored that and ploughed onward, as if he’d worked out his whole speech and was determined to get through it. Maybe he had. “I… I dunno, felt like what we’d just done was… tawdry, somehow. Dirty. I… it’s fuckin’ hard to admit things are, you know, what they are. And here’s this woman commenting on… I thought I was going to die, right there on the spot.” 

Tony smiled, a bit rueful. “You have to understand. Darcy’s been, as the phrase goes, all up in my business, for several years now. I don’t think it ever occurred to her that you might be shy.” 

Bucky made a growling sound deep in his chest. Loki gave the man a completely pissed expression and fled from the room, his tail bristling. 

“I got a lot from Big Jim about bein’ a man,” Bucky said. “What that meant and what was expected of me, and when your publicist started talkin’ to us about pretending to be in a relationship, like I was your whore or something. I felt like I’d finally gone and dropped the one thing that kept me part of my dad’s life, the one thing he was proud of. That I was a man. I know, I know, it’s stupid but... I ain’t gonna say sorry, Tony. I can’t. The words, they stick in me, an’ you deserve better--” 

“Ug, no,” Tony said. “No, and no, and no. Definitely not. I have been on the other side of some pretty terrible relationships, and people using me to get to my money. I would… believe me, I never want to be on the other side of that stick. I don’t even think I could, and my opinion of myself couldn’t possibly get much worse.”

Bucky blushed even redder, and Tony started to worry that he might get a nosebleed, like one of those hyperactive anime characters that Bruce was so fond of. “So, um…. Maybe we could try it out?” 

Tony replayed the conversation in his head a few times -- he had a gift for memory that was more of a curse in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep for constantly replaying the less pleasant conversations in his life -- and it still wasn’t making sense. Like, they’d cut to commercial and left something out to make the time-slot. 

“Try what?” 

“Darcy’s idea. We could…” 

“Pretend to be in love?” Tony sighed. 

“No, idiot,” Bucky snapped and Tony had to swallow a laugh, because he sounded so damn frustrated and it was actually sort of cute. “The relationship. Look at it as... on-the-job training, or something. Sounds like, whatever my pride wants to believe, I don’t have much choice but to let your people fix this mess. I don’t want anything to happen to Stevie, or the twins for that matter. So. We have three to six months of living in each other’s back pocket anyway. It’s a little more hard-core, reality show sort of dating than most people have, but…” 

“You want to go trial-by-fire on being boyfriends?” Tony said. Under his desk, he pinched his own arm, trying to see if he was, actually, asleep and dreaming. Ow. No, still here. 

Bucky shrugged and nodded and Tony tried to marshal all the reasons why this would be a terrible, awful idea, except there was one thought that stood out among all the rest: he wanted this. And maybe in some other life, Tony had been cautious or prudent, but it hadn’t yet happened in this life. In this life, Tony had never walked away from something he wanted just because it was a bad idea. 

“Okay. Sure. You got it,” Tony said. 

He was pretty sure this was going to star in his next unofficial biography as the all-time worst plan ever, but Bucky was leaning in his doorway looking like a Roman god, and Tony just… gave up. 

Tony had met dozens, perhaps hundreds, of lawyers in his lifetime and he had to say that Clint Barton didn’t look anything like any lawyer Tony had ever met. For one thing, he was wearing a purple and black tank top and had arms like a Mr. Universe contestant. Clint also wore a pair of discreet hearing aids and watched carefully whenever anyone was talking. He had blue eyes and a killer stare, with buzzed sandy blond hair and while Steve didn’t look very much like his father (though he acted a lot like his dad, down to mimicking Bucky’s expressions and gestures with adorable accuracy), it was easy to see the Barton bloodline when comparing the boy to his uncle. 

“Hey, kid,” Clint said, ruffling Bucky’s hair so hard that it fell out of the bun, scattering it all over his face. 

“My brother-in-law, Clint,” Bucky said, slapping Clint’s hand away. “Clint, Tony.” 

“Pleasure,” Clint said, pumping Tony’s hand twice with professional smoothness. 

“How’s Nat?” Bucky asked, as they moved into Tony’s enormous front parlor. 

“Wants me to smack you in the head about eight times for worrying the shit out of us, firecracker,” Clint said. He turned a conspiratorial look on Tony. “Can you believe this asshole? I’ve known him since he was all of thirteen years old, went on doubles with him all through high school while he was dating my sister, and then he’s in the hospital for a week and doesn’t call, doesn’t text, I get nothing from him until yesterday when he asks me to represent him in a legal agreement? Seriously, you’d think I never dumped a bucket of ice-water on him and Sarah while they were playin’ doctor just under my window.” 

Bucky shuddered, rubbing his arms. “And he says I’m the asshole,” Bucky protested. “And you only doubled with us because of Barney.” 

“My older brother,” Clint explained. “He… was a little over-protective.” 

“That’s one way to put it,” Bucky muttered. 

“This sounds like a story,” Tony admitted. “Get you a drink? Tea, soda, water? Whiskey?” 

Clint made a show of checking his watch, then gave Tony a wide grin. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” 

“Whiskey it is, how do you take it?” 

“What label?” 

Tony rattled off a quick list, and Clint jumped at the Bowmore. “Just in a glass, my man,” Clint said. “A religious experience shouldn’t be diluted.” Clint knocked back the whiskey, took half of it in one swallow and then inhaled, flailed around a little like a muppet and grinned. “Oh, this is fine. Thank you.” 

“My pleasure,” Tony said, shaking his head. Still a little too early for him (he was trying so hard to be good, especially since he had guests) so he poured himself an iced tea and dumped about eight spoonfuls of sugar into it. 

Clint finished off his drink and set the glass aside, digging into his briefcase for a pack of papers. “I have to say, Mr. Stark, these are some very generous terms.” 

“Well, technically, Bucky’s on a 24/7 work schedule for the next three months, at least, which is a lot of overtime. The newspapers don’t sleep, and anyone with a telephoto lens could be watching at any moment, so we have to be prepared. There’s a bonus in there for situational hardship, but it’s standard SAG wages,” Tony explained, stirring his glass and watching the swirl of sugar in the bottom. “He’s not a guild member, of course, but it’s just easier to calculate everyone in the same manner.” 

“A what?” Bucky asked. Tony had watched him painfully read through the contract, but apparently not much of it had stuck. Well, that was why he’d called the lawyer brother-in-law, Tony supposed. Not everyone was weaned on contract legalese. 

“Screen Actor’s Guild,” Tony said. “Preserving my reputation is an exercise in lying, and the best professional liars are actors.” 

Clint snorted. “No, they’re not.” 

“Lawyers, guns, and money,” Bucky quipped and Clint followed up with a surprisingly melodious singing voice, “won’t get me out of this.” 

Clint pulled out a pair of glasses and slid them onto his nose; Tony noticed that it made a great deal of difference to his air of competence. A suit jacket would make him downright formidable. “My suggestion, here, Buck,” he said, tracing down the document, “is this clause, Section VII, line 4 through 12. Rather than re-locating Steve after the contract is ended, I think you should push to keep him in the new school for the duration of the school year. It’s hard on kids, relocating. It’s a privately-run school, so where you end up living after the contract ends won’t be a hardship as far as attendance goes. But we might also want some wording in there for continual transport to and from, at least for this academic year.” 

Tony hadn’t even thought about that; he’d been kicked out of so many different boarding schools and academies, he wasn’t sure he’d finished a single school year in the same building as he’d started it, but he was also a genius and the classwork had been only of minimal importance, anyway. He did most of his learning on his own, through trial and error. Professor Xavier was a personal friend of Tony’s, and there were aid packages, but the tuition was still pretty high. Tony wasn’t going to push back on that change, though -- the tuition was the same whether Steve was there for three months or the full years, so the only real change was the additional transportation. 

“And here,” Clint said, “we can’t direct deposit, at least not right now.” 

“That’s the fastest, most secure --” 

“I don’t have a bank account, Tony,” Bucky admitted, scratching at his chin. 

Tony blinked. “Wha--?” Tony had dozens of personal accounts, not to mention expense accounts and investment accounts and credit cards. How did someone even function in the world without a bank account? 

“Look, banks charge all sorts of monthly fees, especially if you actually don’t have enough money to pay the damn fees,” Bucky muttered, defensively. “And there’s all sorts of overdraft fees and… it ain’t worth the bother. An’ I don’t even get paid at work with a paycheck, I have a… a company debit card. They add funds to it. ‘Course there’s fees for that, too, whenever I use it, especially if I need cash.” 

“How do you… I don’t know, pay your bills without a checking account?” Tony asked. Not that Tony had ever written a check in his life that wasn’t a publicity stunt for some charity or other. 

“Money orders,” Bucky said. 

“Don’t they charge fees for that, too?” 

“Look at you, got almost as much sense as a real person,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. 

Tony nodded, staring at the floor. He’d never been poor; not even faux poor like some of his trust-account friends back at school, whose parents had threatened to (and on a few occasions had done so) cut them off from time to time. He’d never done those food-stamp challenges or poverty tourism events. First off, most of the celebs who tried them failed miserably and publically, and secondly, it seemed beyond rude. 

Empathy wasn’t putting yourself in someone else’s shoes; it was about recognizing that their pain was real and legitimate. You didn’t have to understand, you didn’t have to feel it, or be able to relate. You just had to recognize pain when you saw it. Tony scoffed at himself. Like a poor marksman, he kept missing the target. 

“Anything else?” Tony asked, once Clint had worked through the rest of the document with Bucky, explaining and clarifying. “If not, I’ll get Hill on it, and she can have a fresh copy sent over.” 

“Oh, Maria?” Clint said, looking up. “I thought she was still at S.H.I.E.L.D..” 

“My benefits package is better than a government contractor,” Tony said, buffing his nails on his shirt. Tony noticed Clint’s glass was empty. “You want a refill on this?” 

“I’m a full partner, Stark; don’t think you can get me to jump ship,” Clint said, wagging his finger, “not with that kind of bribe. But yes, please.” 

Tony moved over to the bar, but still caught Bucky’s low, worried voice. “Do you think I should sign?” 

“Ah, firecracker, I know. It tastes like shit in your mouth,” Clint said. Tony peeked at them in the reflection over the bar. “But, yes. Yes, you should. It’s an opportunity, the kind most people don’t see in a lifetime. Even one year in Xavier’s school can mean a huge opportunity for Steve. And we’re talking about enough salary here for you to go back to school and finish your bachelor’s, Buck. You really should do this.” 

They weren’t exactly being subtle, but Tony got the feeling that it would be better to pretend he wasn’t listening, and so he poured himself a drink as well, squelching a nasty spurt of guilt. Fuck it. 

“Okay,” Bucky said, his jaw tightening like he was steeling himself to put his hand in a fire. “Okay.” 

“Nat and I have your back,” Clint said, “whatever happens. You know that, right?” 

Bucky leaned against his brother-in-law and Clint wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I know.” 

Tony brought back drinks and handed one off to Clint, knocking his back and feeling the burn. “Tell me, why do you call Bucky ‘firecracker’?” 

Bucky blushed, brilliant red, hiding a sudden and sly smile behind his hand that lit up his whole face. “That was years ago,” he protested. “Not my fault, totally not.” 

Clint flicked a hand in Bucky’s direction. “He burned my grandmother’s gazebo down.” 

Over Bucky’s protests, shoves, and eventual clocking Clint over the head with one of the couch cushions, Clint told the story, which was long and involved and ended with a much younger Bucky, Clint, and Sarah diving behind the picnic table for cover as a stray spark ended up in their bag of illegal fireworks that eventually burned the backyard garden structure to the ground. 

“Honestly,” Clint said, “I’m surprised he ended up a sniper. I would have thought the army could have made use of his demolitions expertise.” 

“Asshole,” Bucky said, shoving his brother-in-law again. 

Author Note: I have some poverty feelz again. Some of this stuff is directly from my personal experience. Also, BANKS SUCK.  Secondary Note: the Lawyers, Guns, and Money is a line from a Warren Zevon song of the same title. Check it out, it’s cute. @tisfan - feel free to follow me and come chat...

[ars-simia-animus]

What I Can Afford is Yours

Chapter 7: “Some Shun the Sunshine”

Summary:

"Mr. Jameson was given his chance to meet Mrs. Virginia Stark on the Sunday evening before Christmas, after he had returned from taking Peter to the jailhouse."

Pepper and Tony learn that Peter has been detained at the jailhouse, convicted by Jameson of theft. In the jail, Peter is defenseless, and must draw on his own inner strength to protect himself.

Trigger warnings for this chapter: sexual harassment of a minor, racism and racial slurs, mild violence and mention of blood

Mr. Jameson was given his chance to meet Mrs. Virginia Stark on the Sunday evening before Christmas, after he had returned from taking Peter to the jailhouse.

He was placing the newly priced, finished ceramics on tall display stands when he heard a light but purposeful knock on the shop door. Annoyed, he tried to gesture that the shop was closed. However, the figure tapped again and he saw that it was a lady, though she was as tall as he, and very well-dressed, so he hurried over. “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but my humble shop is closed on the Lord’s day.”

“Yes, I’m sorry to interrupt your day off, Mr. Jameson, but I would not be able to discuss business with you tomorrow.” Pepper said, stepping into the doorway, forcing Mr. Jameson to make room for her to enter. “You see, we have rather momentous plans for tomorrow. I hope this will not be an awful inconvenience.”

Mr. Jameson stared at the woman, taken completely off his guard. He stammered as he tried to think of what to say. “No inconvenience,” he finally muttered.

“Good.” Pepper said, fully directing the conversation. She held a leather portfolio in the crook of her arm. Her manner was one of professional flair. Jameson was visibly intimidated by her presence and sudden proclamation. “I am Virginia Stark. I’ve come to discuss Peter Parker’s apprenticeship with you.”

Peter was in a time-deprived state of shock. He knew he’d been locked up with the other pre-trial criminals around three o’clock that afternoon; but, no distinction could be made between day and night. The basement jail had no access to natural light and the guards didn’t comment on the hour. Added to this was a persistent haze; he felt suspended somehow as though he might fall into an enchanted sleep. Peter was completely disoriented by the time a guard brought a loaf of bread that resembled fruitcake, dense and apparently choked full of ingredients.

The men crowded the bars and took a slice of it for supper— all except Peter, who couldn’t feel his hunger, buried as it was under his distress, and Westcott, who stood when the guard brought the tray to the bars, but stayed where he was. Davis had given him a very pointed look when he moved away from the back wall to get his own slice.

“Aren’t ya gonna eat?” Rocky prodded Peter through the bars. He warned: “You’re not dead yet, boyo. Ya need food.”

Peter complied blearily; he was the last besides Westcott to walk over. The slice of loaf was dry and Peter saw the starchy strings of former vegetables in it. It smelled like beef pot roast, but there was a sickeningly sweet aroma of some sort of fruit to it as well. It seemed that an entire meal had been ground up and baked into a brick.

Nevertheless, he politely said to the guard, “Thank you, sir,” and the guard stared at him before sneering. “Don’t be a wisenheimer, kid.” He moved on to Rocky’s cell with the tray. Peter put the piece of loaf in his pocket without another coherent thought. His ears were aching again.

Tony strode through the alley to the workshop door as gaily as he would during the daytime. He went to turn the knob but it did not give. “Hmm.” He clucked. After all, it was nighttime, and the kid probably had settled in for the evening. There was the glow of a light somewhere within, so Tony rapped on the door. Admittedly, he was disappointed he couldn’t burst in, lackadaisical as usual, but so it goes.

Peter didn’t answer, however. Tony bobbed up and down on his heels then knocked again. But, no one answered. No throwing open of the door, no excited greeting of “Mr. Stark!”, no rambling apology while the door was unbarred and unlocked. Slightly peeved and a little concerned, Tony headed for the shop entrance. Change of plans.

An hour after the “nutraloaf” was served, Peter heard the tumblers of the cell door’s lock. “Davis!” The guard called. “Come on, then!”

No change passed over Aaron Davis’s face as he walked, slightly swaying, from the back cell wall. He did pause, however, as he passed Peter and gazed at him for a moment. Peter might have interpreted a look of apology.

Westcott watched him go with great interest. Peter saw him look at the other criminals in the cell as if measuring something in them. But, he stayed where Davis had put him.

The guard commented to Davis as he escorted him up the stairs. “You must have friends in high places.” Then they were both gone and door to the basement jail closed.

“Regrettably, the boy’s not here tonight.” Mr. Jameson said. He removed a partially smoked cigar from his vest pocket and bit it. Seeing her nose curl, he decided against lighting it.

“Where is Peter?” Pepper asked, voice tight.

“Well, ma’am,” Jameson said gruffly. “I was actually on my way to fetch him… in the morning, that is.”

“From where?” Pepper asked with more emphasis.

Jameson chewed on his cigar, using it as a tool to ground himself. “Well, I’m pained to be the one to have to tell you this, but, you see, the boy, uh, Peter, stole an item from the shop yesterday.”

Pepper straightened. “ Where is Peter, Mr. Jameson. This is the third time I am asking you.”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that he confessed to the crime and I had to arrange for him to spend the night in the precinct jailhouse— to deter, eh, further, you know, transgressions .” Mr. Jameson crossed his arms firmly.

Pepper’s eyebrows bounced though her face remained resolutely drawn.

“So,” he continued, invoking his sense of self-righteousness, the base stone of his confidence, “you understand that as the boy’s master and the injured party, I had to address the situation .”

Inhaling through her nose, Pepper readjusted her shoulders. “Yes, I understand your position on things very well, Mr. Jameson.”

Tony entered the shop door then and crossed behind Pepper to the little hallway door. “Back door was locked,” he explained offhandedly. Pepper remained still and hardly took notice.

Jameson sputtered as Tony disappeared, “Now hold on—!”

Pepper interrupted. “Excuse my husband,” she said with no trace of true apology. “You said you arranged that he stay the night. Has he spoken to a judge?”

“Not as of yet, ma’am. The holiday—”

“What did he confess to take?”

“Well, his contract clearly outlines—”

“I’m familiar with his contract,” Pepper said. Jameson gaped, wondering where she could have obtained a copy. He eyed the portfolio in her arms, having more of an idea of its contents. “I’ve read it thoroughly. So it was an item meant to be sold? How did you discover it was not in its right place?”

Tony returned from the hallway door and stormed toward Jameson. The latter actually took a step back at the sight of the charge. Tony was ready to boom out a question, but Pepper intercepted him with an answer. “He’s not here, Tony. Mr. Jameson was just offering his explanation as to why.”

“Love to hear it.” Tony seethed.

Westcott began moving around the cell. One moment he was standing next to a group of men on the opposite wall. The next he was in the center of the cell, only his ashen shock of hair visible in a different huddle of criminals. Every time he moved, Peter’s breath trembled in his rib cage.

“I see you, vermin.” Rocky snarled at him. Peter wished that Rocky was in the cell with him or that they were both in a separate cell from Westcott. The guard had returned, but he had already shown that he would not prevent whatever assault Westcott had in mind.

Peter kept a vigil on the man. His best hope was to be strategic about their distance and to put as many obstacles between them as possible. He felt just like a feeder cricket in a lizard’s tank.

Another man from Rocky’s cell had joined them at the wall. He was laidback and maybe also hungover. He murmured close to Peter’s ear. “Looks like you might need a magic trick.”

Peter dared to take his eyes off Westcott and looked questioningly at the man. Then he noticed the laidback man had removed a deck of cards from his pocket. “Alakazam,” he whispered and slid off the top quarter of loose playing cards to reveal that the bottom three quarters had been glued together. Not only that, but the center of the cards had been cut out of the bottom three quarters and the entire deck converted into a makeshift box. Inside was a short sodbuster knife.

“Where is the kid?” Tony pressed.

“Somewhere I don’t believe he wants you to see him.” Pepper said and her brow gave a compassionate lift.

“What did you do to him?” Tony demanded, eyes trained on Jameson dangerously. He appeared fully in the grip of anxious rage now. “His things are all thrown across the floor. If you hurt him, I--”

“Save yourself the embarrassment, Stark,” Jameson retorted. “The little sheeny stole from me !”

Pepper glared at him. “That answers how you discovered the missing item then?”

Jameson bristled. “He confessed! Do I have to spell it out for you? He confessed— and only after company property was discovered in his possession. I had a right to search, by the way, in my own home. If I didn’t, who knows how many belongings of mine he could be hiding?”

“It never left the property, then?” Pepper asked. Her poise was nearly poetically in conjunction with Jameson’s raving. “I’m very unclear, Mr. Jameson, why you felt the need to take a child to jail over such a petty offense as 'intent to steal.'”

Tony fumed. The constricting of his chest caused him to go a little weak. “I’m going to get him.” He declared as he stalked toward the door.

Pepper called to him softly. “Wait, Tony. I believe Mr. Jameson still has a role to play in the matter. He brought the charges; but, he will go, now, to the courthouse to drop them.”

“Now wait just a minute.” Jameson demanded. “Parker is my apprentice. He confessed to stealing and I am in my rights to discipline him for his actions.”

At this Tony whirled on him. He took two fistfuls of Jameson’s vest. “And would he feel the need if you treated him well?”

“I upheld my end; that ungrateful—!”

“It will be difficult to complete that sentence with a broken jaw!”

Pepper calmly walked to them and swept back her husband’s hands, saying, “I already need to speak to the police. It’ll go over better if I don't also need to defend you .” Then, she went to the door and called, “Friday, I need you a moment.”

Tony’s respect for Pepper was the only buffer between him and Jameson. The men stared each other down, nostrils flared. Friday was standing with them in moment and Jameson started at her silent appearance. “What is this? Am I being overrun?” He shrieked.

Ignoring him, Pepper gave her instructions to Friday. “Try to find a messenger and send word to May Parker that Peter will be home tonight instead of tomorrow as planned. If you can’t find one so late, we’ll just have to surprise her, I suppose. Also ask Harley to begin preparing Peter’s belongings to be moved.”

Friday left and Jameson complained loudly. “You barge in here, ready to make a villain of me, but what’s your game? You think I haven’t noticed Stark Industries buying up stocks of my own company? Now you steal my employee from under my nose?”

“You have a strange concept of ownership,” Tony said with derision. “Peter can’t be stolen. He’s not a pot. As for his employment,” Tony said and stretched, “well, it seems the little fool’s gotten himself out of that on his own. Am I understanding the terms of the contract correctly, my love?”

Pepper nodded, watching Jameson’s stricken face. “According to the contract, Peter did not follow the requirements of his apprenticeship and it is null and void.”

“So, he’s not your employee anymore.” Tony said. “It’s too bad that you’ve driven him away; he’s not likely to ever work for you again.”

“All the more a shame, I had a much more agreeable proposal prepared to discuss with you tonight, Mr. Jameson. But, considering these developments, I will have to rethink my offer.”

Tony turned up his chin with a humor that made Jameson’s stomach turn cold. “I don’t know, Pepper, my dear, I’m liking this angle of the deal better every minute.”

“Kid, don’t take that.” Rocky said with exasperation. Then he slapped the other prisoner’s arm. “Lang, are you nuts ?”

The other man, Lang, shrugged innocently. “I’m trying to help.”

“Does the kid look like he’s ever been in a knife fight?”

“How were you going to protect him? Hope that ape comes within a foot of the bars so you can grab him with your tiny arms?”

“Ya want to repeat that?”

“I’m just saying, he’s going to have to protect himself and a knife never hurt…”

“You idiot .”

Peter scanned the cell for Westcott. He hissed at the two men on the other side of the bars. They were becoming too loud. “Sirs…”

“If you don’t know how to use a knife, it only ends up being used on you.” Rocky spoke in an exaggerated, professorly tone. “Criminey.”

“I don’t want it,” Peter said. He glanced at them and back into the dim cell with its groups of milling prisoners. He’d lost track of his predator. “My uncle… I, I don’t want to… stab anybody.”

Then he glimpsed Westcott, nearer than ever since Davis left, but not advancing.

Lang mumbled: “Has the moral high ground done you any favors recently, kid?”

Peter didn’t answer. He could see himself trembling and tried to quit. Westcott looked at him disdainfully, then, as if a shadow passed over him, the expression morphed and he seemed penitent.

“Look here, bubchen,” he said, “I’ve always been ratty at making friends. Can’t we start over?”

“Don’t buy into that, kid.” Rocky muttered grimly.

Westcott persisted, advancing a step. “I’m so very sorry for upsetting you.”

Peter shuddered. He just wanted this to end. “I accept your apology; now, leave me alone and go back where you were.”

“You heard him, Skippy.” Rocky growled and reared up, but Westcott wasn’t deterred.

He cocked his head at Peter. “ You know, you weren’t very nice to me, either.” Another step. “Don’t you think you should offer to make it up to me?”

“Westcott.” The guard’s voice came threateningly. “Leave the Jewboy alone.” But then he added to Peter, locking an eye on him: “See what trouble you could have saved yourself,” he drawled, “if you had kept your dirty hands where they belonged?”

Westcott was almost close enough now for his large waist to bump against Peter. Peter felt suffocated. Rocky was snarling at Westcott, even batting his arms through the bars, but he couldn’t reach. Lang had gone to their cell entrance and was appealing to the guard.

A strike of fear finally woke Peter from the place in his mind where he’d been hiding. The place he’d gone to wait until it was over. He stuffed his hand into his pocket and crumbled the dry nutraloaf into a fine powder. Westcott leaned over him.

“I didn’t get any supper because of you—“

Peter sprung and rubbed the crumbs in Westcott’s eyes. When the large man doubled, he cracked the bridge of his nose one hard shot with his elbow. Westcott jolted away with a howl of pain. Peter heard the cell door rattling; deliriously, he thought it was Westcott’s nose, jangling on his face.

A cold sweat broke over Peter. The guard was crying for everyone to get back, though the prisoners only crowded more crazily, pushing toward Westcott’s lumped form. The billy club banged on the door.

Peter reeled and fell against the iron bars. He heard Rocky and Lang talking behind him, but he couldn’t make sense of what they said. Finally the prisoners cleared and the guard entered. However, he didn’t approach Westcott but clamped a hand on Peter’s shoulder and pulled him out of the cell.

Before another word was spoken, the door at the top of the stairs opened. “I need Parker brought up.” A voice called down. “Someone’s come to collect him.” Peter heard the words through swimming ears. Faces began to appear in his mind as the guard huffed and hauled him up the stairs two steps at a time.

“Good riddance,” the guard grumbled.

The adrenaline hammering inside him died when Peter saw who was there to collect him. He didn’t understand until he saw Mr. Jameson standing in the foyer of the jailhouse that he’d been wishing Tony was there. There to take him home. Peter felt overwhelmed by sorrow; the sickness of fear returned.

Mr. Jameson sniffed almost grandly and proclaimed. “Well, Parker, I can see that the law has taught you your lesson and I doubt you’ll soon scorn my generosity again.” He took Peter’s shoulders and steered him from the foyer, calling thanks to the officers. As he left, Peter thought he could hear yelling somewhere behind them— it sounded like Pepper, but his head was too clouded and he scoffed at himself for such a wild hope.

Peter had no words for Mr. Jameson, who prattled in front of him, taking large strides in the snow. “Oh, Parker... I’m partly to blame for how things turned out,” he said. “I should have been stricter with you.” The snow crunched under his boots. “You’re a good boy at heart and I want to know that I forgive you.” Crunch, crunch.

Peter’s breath raced. Was the adrenaline resurrecting or the sickness worsening? He heard a great crack of ice under toe— his brain shot the sensation of Westcott’s nose breaking against his elbow back into his arm. He fell, retching, to the ground.

“Good Lord, boy! Pull yourself together.” Jameson jerked away, repulsed.

“You…” He panted. He spit bile from his mouth and continued. “You only... came back for me because I’m valuable to you.”

“What was that?” Jameson asked. He was stunned.

Peter turned up his face toward his master. “I work the kiln. I create the pieces that sell. I make you money." His nose prickled and he gathered a breath. "I’m sorry for what I did; but, I’m less sorry to you than I am to myself-- or my Aunt May-- or my good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Stark-- for not keeping true to my integrity.”

Jameson replied in a tight tone. “That so?”

Peter stood. “You say I scorned your generosity, but that’s not true. I betrayed your trust, I broke your rules, but you never gave me any generosity to scorn!” He was yelling now and could already feel the sucking, empty pain of sobs deep in his gut. “You haven’t been generous. You haven’t even been fair!”

For a split second he wondered why Jameson didn’t rebuke him or argue or even strike him. Then he felt a hand on lay comfortingly on his back. Instead of flinching at the sudden touch, Peter melted into it. He knew immediately who was there. Peace moved through his body like warm water into cold, and he heard, “Couldn’t have said it better, Pete. I’ll take it from here, J.J.”

Peter looked up at Tony.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony said softly, “I thought I might see you home, if that suits you.”

He let himself fall against Tony’s coat like a sigh and nodded. Peter didn’t remember Jameson anymore, almost as though he’d been dispelled by the relief that washed away any of his other cares. Tony walked him to the carriage.

“How are you doing, Hap?” Tony asked his valet as Peter climbed onto the running board.

“Cold, sir.” Happy grouched. “If you’re asking.”

“One more stop,” Tony said. “Then, all the hot butter rum you can drink. How’s that?”

Tony lifted himself into the carriage and sat securely next to Peter. The carriage pitched forward as Happy urged the horses to take them to May's little house in Queens, to Peter's home. Peter felt Tony’s weight against his side and he stifled a whimper. He felt the jolt as Tony chafed his hands together. The sensation of shaking didn’t cease after Tony lowered his hands and Peter realized it was himself who was quavering, but he couldn’t stop it.

Noticing Peter trembling, Tony put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him tenderly closer. Peter lost himself and cast across Tony’s chest, weeping suddenly and with unrestrained, ugly sobs. Tony drew him still more snugly and murmured, “I’m here. I’m here, Peter. I’m here.”

With enormous effort, Peter lobbed out fragments of words amid incoherent cries. Their meaning tripped on hiccups and even he couldn’t discern them. Even knowing Tony couldn’t understand them, Peter abandoned all control; he wanted so desperately to say I was scared! I was so scared and there was a man who scared me and I can’t explain why and I feel so ruined and filthy and I had to fight him off on my own and he was so much larger than I and the guard said I deserved it— he said it was my own fault and I still feel the slimy wetness of blood on my elbow and he kept saying he would hurt me and I wanted you so much— I wanted you to come and you’re here and I’m so happy but I can’t feel happy. I’m still so scared and it won’t go away.

Tony listened and several times softly asked, “What was that, Pete? What did you say?”

But Peter could only cling to him, so broken and small, and weeping and coughing, but drawing comfort from Tony’s strong arms and the quiet timber of his voice, and finally, after a long, harrowing trial, feeling safe. Safe at last!

Tony’s embrace guarded Peter long after he’d quieted. Peter had fallen asleep against him in the carriage, completely collapsed physically and emotionally. Tony couldn’t imagine how exhausted he must be. Tony also had seen, dimly in the lamplight of the jailhouse, a nasty scrape on the bottom of Peter’s chin. The kid’s clothes were smeared with grime. His stomach rumbled in his sleep. Also, Tony couldn't be sure whether Peter had vomited outside the jailhouse from being sick or from the undeniable stress he must feel. “This is a hell of a state I’m returning you to your aunt in…” Tony muttered in the dark. "Hope Friday got word to her at least."

Acute pain at the sight of this kid he loved so much, this bright and passionate boy, churned through Tony, and once Peter had fallen asleep, it was joined by a protective anger. He couldn’t understand what Peter had been trying to tell him as he convulsed with sobs, but Tony made out enough to know that he was terrified and threatened and no one had helped him. None of the adults, the ones who should have stepped in, had defended him. With shame, Tony considered himself one of those who had failed Peter.

They had waited too long, Pepper and he, to challenge the apprenticeship contract. He knew that Jameson was unkind and mistrustful; he had not expected the man would actually expose Peter to danger, though. He should have known; he shouldn’t have waited -- and for the flimsy excuse of giving a gift. "He doesn't even celebrate Christmas," Tony chided himself.

Pepper was back at the jailhouse giving the police hell. He wished they could trade places. He knew how to raise a riot, to condemn and debate, and assert; but here, with Peter curled against him, Tony felt ill-equipped and fairly stupid. He was being called to do something completely different. It was his job to comfort a child . Absolute terror seized him.

“Well, this is what I wanted, right? A child.” He shifted and Peter juddered, burying his face into Tony’s shoulder. His hands gripped Tony’s coat. “Oh God.” Tony thought then relaxed, trying to encourage himself (not something he was used to doing.) “Ready or not… He’s depending on me now,” he thought.